*There are two photos hidden here which are the most I can s..

*There are two photos hidden here which are the most I can show you from this encounter without it becoming honest-to-goodness pornography... and I'm not ready for that! However, sharing these two pictures despite them not being overly explicit is still very BOLD in that they are REAL and my sexy friend “D” has kindly given me his permission.* And now without further ado, here is the third installment of the story of “D” the dishwasher repairman... After I stepped out of “D”'s shower, I immediately started hunting for the strewn articles of my clothing, from the backdoor all the way to the bedroom. Everything in my movement must have indicated I was hurrying to leave. We started speaking philosophically again as I caught the last hook of my bra, arms stretched behind me, fumbling a little. He stopped me as I reached for my crumpled shirt, and put his palm on the crease between my hip and lower ribcage. “Leaving already? Don't you want to cuddle?” I laughed, nervously, then apologized, surprised and a little embarassed. It was very late, we were at his place, and we were in Austin, Texas, a city known for Peter Pan-like menfolk with a tendency toward ghosting. (Don't believe me? https://www.austin360.com/entertainment/20180203/study-austin-men-arethe-worst-behaved-singles-in-america) I have grown such a thick skin to survive being single in 2021, I've forgotten how people ought to treat each other and have become almost as guilty as the rest of them. Isn't it funny how we become the thing we're trying to avoid? I am so used to not expecting respect or tenderness, I'm no longer projecting them either. This is bad behavior and something I want to remedy, and when “D” invited me to sit next to him on his couch for some sweet talk and after care, my cold exterior melted just a little bit. We said goodnight, I Ubered home, and the next morning I felt radiant and abuzz. It felt like I had swallowed a potent dose of vitamins. I felt y0ung, alive, and satisfied and for the rest of the day I saw the world through rose-colored glasses. (Side note: I'm very curious about these women who study tantric sex and drink the sperm of y0unger men to increase their vitality. If you would like me to give a book review and read some excerpts, I'd be happy to! Hint: it's on my Amazon wishlist! https://www.amazon.com/Sexual-Teachings-White-Tigress-Secrets/dp/0892818689) Some weeks passed. We both had out-of-town trips and couldn't seem to line our schedules up. Part of me was prepared for the usual Austin, Texas dating experience, and assumed I would never see him again. Then one day, with a little irritating yet fortunate stroke of bad/good luck , the dishwasher quit working again. I sent “D” a text and we made a plan for him to come by the next morning he had available. I made coffee, as was becoming our custom, and he did some clever work with his hands over a partially dismantled machine. For a moment, he seemed pleased, closed it up again and hit the start button. “I need to run it for a while, to make sure it's working. I don't want to leave until I'm sure. We have some time...” As I crossed the kitchen to pour myself another cup, he reached out and pulled me close to kiss him. His presence, his brightness, his delicious body, mind and spirit had again invoked a fiery lust inside of me that was a totally a new flavor. It's something only he so far brings out in me – which could be said for every person we feel a connection with – there is a brand new facet of myself that is created when learning how to relate to *him* specifically. It occurred to me in at that moment, despite being careful not to romanticize or overthink the perfectly casual fun were were having, that he was one of the most physically beautiful people I'd ever been with. I don't usually obsess over how my lovers look, since I'm pansexual, hyper curious about all sorts of types, and good conversation is the hottest thing in the world to me... This guy appeared to have it all, which was intimidating. Fortunately, before the critical voice in my head had a chance to betray me, his love-making style was once again so full-bodied and passionate, it left me in no doubt of his desire! I was swept up into a mutual frenzy as he lifted the soft pink tank top over my head and let it drop. I like to learn new people like I'm learning a language or contouring a piece of wood to fit and join against another piece of wood. I find joy in the call and response, the action and reaction. Sometimes it's a push and pull between who is leading, who is following, or sometimes it's the awkward crash of two forces, or... when it works, an earth-shattering explosion. We find out when we jump in and take a little taste of each other. The excitement and mystery of the discovery made me snap to that present moment, riding his enthusiasm like a surfer riding a wave, connecting to him as fluently as I could. He pulled back from kissing me and spun me around, his hands on my hips, pulling me backwards to press against him. Facing forward, I could feel his hand get between us to undo button of his blue gray slacks, which soon fell to the floor. Almost simultaneously he slid my denim shorts and black cotton panties off and I kicked them to the side, where they landed in a heap next to the humming dishwasher. I heard the sound of the condom wrapper, and he rolled the condom on deftly, wasting no time. The dishes had been piling up for a couple of days since the appliance was broken, and as he penetrated me, the force of his body pushed me forward, and I went head first into the sink of dirty dishes, my hair falling into the dishwater, soaking up the soap and grease. I could hardly care at all as he gripped my hips and we found our rhythm. All of the blinds were open, and I could see my neighbors across the street going about their business. Wondering if they could see me, I came twice, ending in unison with him just as “D” likes and strives for. He likes a job well-done, and that applies to more than just his work. I could hardly even believe it once the moment was over. What an incredible journey I'm on that such a cliché porn scenario with my dishwasher repairman would happen off-the-cuff in my real life! My whole body was ringing with gratitude for that life experience as we said our goodbyes, with waves of lingering thrills for a long while every time I thought about it after. Post-coital shower thought: Maybe this is where the term “dishwater blonde” comes from. What do you think?