Chapter 3: Dating Mr. Grey
I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling; lost in thought. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I thought about the spark I felt in my gut when he looked me in my eyes. I thought about the excitement I felt when he said “I have something I want to show you”. I thought about the feeling of freedom and wildness he brought out of me. I felt alive. Truly, magically alive. But as soon as the euphoria of my daydream wore off, worry set in. Mr. Grey had been gone for five days and I was seeing him tonight. What if it wasn’t the same as it was before he left? What if that spark was gone; somehow faded away? What if I looked at him and said, “yuck”; the feeling that ended all of my relationships? The time I had spent with him had been steady yet volatile, two emotions that never feel quite right when paired together. The volatility came from the framework of his dating philosophy that I was currently subscribed to; date without commitment. I was taking six months to just date without becoming exclusive with anyone. I didn’t know exactly what that meant. The only rules that I had made for myself were:
Only date people who I have physical and emotional chemistry
Date multiple people so you didn’t become attached to one
Only date men who are honest and do not misrepresent themselves
These were solid boundaries to keep during my journey, but were they going to be enough? Did I need more to protect my fragile heart throughout this process? I didn’t have the answer. But I knew that I wasn’t following all of them. After my two disaster dates with the Lifeguard and The Producer, I didn’t have any others lined up. All I had was Mr. Grey, meanwhile, Mr. Grey was returning to a harem of women that were eager to take another bite out of him.
I felt important and special because I was the first one he wanted to see upon his return. He liked to call me his “number 1” because out of all the women he was seeing, I was his top pick. It felt good to be number 1 but also scary and concerning knowing that there were others waiting in line to take my place. I felt like I was on a risqué version of “The Bachelor “. But the truth of the matter was that I wanted to see him too. We had gotten closer since he left; talking into the wee hours of the night about everything and nothing. There was something between us that kept us coming back for more.
Our plan was to meet at his place for dinner and drinks. I was in charge of bringing wine but I wanted to bring something more than that.
I started to rummage through my lingerie drawer, looking for something to wear under the fitted black dress I had chosen for tonight’s date.
I found a lacy black bra that had bondage like straps around my breasts. The panties were nearly nonexistent.
The straps of the bra peeked out of the top of the dress, making it seem like the straps belonged to the dress instead of the neglige.
As I secured myself into my sexy surprise, I felt nervous. Usually, the more expectation I put on a date or relationship, the more disappointment I felt as the reality unveiled. I took my 127th deep breath, grabbed the bottle of wine and headed to my car.
As I drove down the deserted highway, I blasted all of my favorite songs. I needed to remind myself of who I was. I wasn’t a small woman whose value was based on a man’s perception of me. I was a smart, beautiful, sexy, ambitious woman who allowed this man to be in my life. I was in control of what would happen tonight and if at any point, I felt uncomfortable; I could simply leave. I had nothing to fear and everything to gain. One more deep breath and I arrived at his door.
As I slowly entered his rainforest-like porch, I could see the door was slightly opened and music was blasting from inside. His dog, Benny, approached me with his human-like eyes and begged me for my attention, which I willingly gave.
I wasn’t much of a dog person, but Benny was a good dog.
I liked him.
I think a dog says a lot about their owner and Benny was a lot like Mr. Grey. He was calm, cool and collected.
He was a good listener but could get wild when provoked.
As I smiled and whispered sweet nothings to Benny, I saw a figure approaching the door. I took a few steps forward as Mr. Grey became visible through the doorway. We said one word, “hi” and without hesitation, his lips met mine. It started as a slow and passionate kiss. HIs tongue gently darting in my mouth while he teased my lips and mouth. I pressed my body towards his and he pulled me inside and shut the door, leaving Benny outside to fend for himself. Passion was pouring out of us as our kissing intensified. Just when I was becoming breathless, he pulled away, smacked my ass and said, “are you ready to eat?”, with a smirk that only he possessed.
There are many surprising things about Mr. Grey that I found fascinating. The first one was the fact that he was vegan. HIs tough guy exterior radiates meat and potatoes but he was more of a tempeh and veggies kind of guy. During our dinner, I asked him why he decided to become vegan.
“My father died of a heart attack when he was 41. Three years ago, when I was 33, I decided that if I wanted to live longer than he did, I needed to change the way I eat. A vegan diet basically eliminates the risk of heart disease, which is what killed my dad. So I am vegan so I can live.”
He said this so matter of factly, I almost missed the vulnerability he displayed. As I watched him take a bite of the vegan BLTs he had made us, I was a bit taken back.
“My dad died when I was really young. He had a heart attack too. He was only 29 years old” I blurted out.
Almost instantly, I felt completely exposed. I nervously bit into my sandwich, hoping he would change the subject so I didn’t have to feel so open and raw.
I looked at him from the side of my eye and he acted like he didn’t even hear me. Whew, thank goodness.
“Really? I’m sorry”, he said as looked me dead in the eyes.
I don’t know why but instead of closing myself off to him, I opened up more.
“My sister almost died of the same thing. She had to have open heart surgery in 2016 to repair her heart. It wasn’t until then that we learned that heart defects are hereditary in our family.
“And my mom died too. She had a heart attack after fighting cancer for three years.”
I wish I could catch the words in the air and put them back in my mouth. I didn’t want him to see me like this.
I wanted him to see the sexy, confident, ambitious woman that I am.
I didn’t want him to see me on the verge of tears while I talked about some of my greatest heartbreaks.
“Get it together, Carrie” I told myself. My sandwich was my only distraction so I started inhaling it like I was a competitive vegan sandwich eater.
As I sat in my own self-imposed discomfort, I desperately wanted to learn more about him so I could stop exposing parts of me.
“I would like to know more about you”, I blurted out, as if I had no filter from my mind to my mouth.
“It is all about asking the right questions”, he replied as he picked up our plates and started to head inside.
If anyone was a professional at asking questions, it was me. After all, I had a resume full of interviewing skills. So if questions were the key to knowing what kind of man he was, I was sure as hell going to find out. But before I could even ask a single one, he grabbed a bag and said, “Let’s go watch the sunset”.
I put on a wide brimmed hat that made me look like I was on my way to a Kentucky Derby and I followed him outside.
He led me down a familiar path that steadily climbed up the side of a mountain. Shortly after we started, we arrived at the picnic bench from our second date.
We sat and he brought out a bottle of wine he had hidden in his backpack and poured us each a glass.
As we sat and sipped, he suddenly surprised me by saying, “go stand in front of the sunset and let me take a picture of you.”.
It was a simple gesture but one that meant something to me.
I spend a lot of time in front of the camera but I am always alone in the endeavor. I never have had a supportive partner that even offered to take a piece of this burden off my shoulders.
I walked over in front of the sunset and I started to pose as he clicked the camera. I felt awkward at first, naked without the control of the camera in my own hand. He started giving me direction; turn this way, head down. I took in his coaching and followed his cues; and as I did, I became more comfortable.
“Alright, I think we got some good ones.” He said as I walked over to take a look. As he scanned through the photos, I was shocked. The light of the sunset looked like cotton candy behind me. The hat shielded my eyes and a sensual smirk covered my lips. You could see the bondage like straps at the top of the dress but they were balanced by the classiness of my sundress. I looked at him with graciousness in my eyes and said, “thank you. I love them” and just like that, our lips touched while the sun disappeared once again behind the mountains.
Although it was reminiscent of our last date, he was not the kind of guy to have the same experience twice. As we kissed, his hands roamed my body and made their way under my dress. As his fingers exposed the lace of my panties, he started to kiss my neck as I sighed in ecstasy. He would quickly stop as he heard footprints of an innocent hiker trekking up the trail while we would pretend to be actively watching the sunset as they passed and then return to our R rated rendezvous. I could have stayed in that moment for hours, but that is not how Mr. Grey operates. He is a man who likes to keep you on your toes, so as soon as he felt me settling into his touch and leaning into his kiss, he quickly scooped up our stuff and began hiking down the mountain. As I trailed behind, I could feel him making sure that I was following, his head would turn so he could catch a glance with his side eye. I wondered if this is how our relationship would be, him always leading and me always chasing. The art of the chase was something he was calculated about and I rarely chased men. But if I wanted to be with Mr. Grey, I was going to start doing things that I don’t typically do; chasing is definitely one of them.
“Do you have anything you are insecure about?”, I blurted out randomly in a typical Carrie Pyle style fashion. He looked back at me with a knowing look of surprise,
“Of course”.“What are they?”, I asked with a slight tinge of embarrassment.
I wanted to know him and he told me to ask questions, but I didn’t know how far he would let my inquisition go. “I have overcome my two biggest ones. I used to be really insecure about how much I sweat. I was in meetings and I would have to wear jackets to cover up the sweat marks on my shirt. It wasn’t the look that I wanted to have in front of my employees and especially in a new job. But once I discovered medical grade deodorant, then I didn’t have to wear jackets anymore. It changed everything.”
He was so open, so honest. He shared without hesitation or embarrassment. He was grounded in who he was and what he wanted. It was extremely rare to see that in a man and I found it so attractive.
“What is the second insecurity?”, I said as I pushed for more answers.
“Growing up in Florida, everyone wants to be so tan. But I have always been a ginger and I would go to the beach and I would be almost translucent, my skin was so pale. I was super insecure about it but then I found this self tanner and I put that on every week. I walk around my house naked and clean while I do it and now I am not translucent anymore”
A moment of silence crept over the conversation while I digested everything he shared. While I saw him as a strong, powerful man; it was these moments that really stood out to me. He allowed himself to be vulnerable, but not in a weak way; in an honest way.
When he allowed me to see him, I saw something beautiful inside him. But he only gives me small nuggets. These vulnerable pieces are buried within him and my questions allow me to dig for his emotional gold. When I get a piece, I savor it and hold onto it because you never know when the next nugget will surface. Even if the nuggets are deodorant and self tanner, they are still pieces of his hidden persona picture.
I couldn’t stop my questioning after he let me see his vulnerability. I wanted to know more, and I wanted him to show me.
“Do you think you would ever get married? Because I don’t think I would get married again.” I said, looking at him and waiting for him to put the kibosh on my questioning.
“I want a partner, I want to build a partnership with someone. I don’t want a relationship that is based around taking. I think it is healthy for both people to have friends, their own passions, and be happy within themselves. I think that when people get married, they stop trying. I don’t want a relationship where we stop trying.” He said matter of factly.
My insides felt like they were going to take flight. I wanted that too. I didn’t want to be with someone because I HAVE to be. I want to be with someone because I WANT to be. I spent a lot of years in a stale, lifeless, relationship. I told myself that I should be happy. I convinced myself that I was. But I was a shell of myself. All of my more beautiful qualities were buried under a burden of expectation. It wasn’t until I lost everything that I found myself again. I don’t want to lose myself in a man ever again. And Mr Grey wasn’t asking me to risk myself. He didn’t want to steal me. He wants a fair fight with other competitors. He wants me to choose him because I want him, not because I need him. And I want to be chosen in the same way. I don’t want to be a consolation prize. I want to be sought after, wanted and adored. I don’t want to take much from him; just the intangible things that are priceless. I don’t want anything from him yet I want all of him.
My brain swirled while I tried to process all of the things he was sharing with me and before I knew it, we were walking into his apartment for the second time that day. As we both settled into the room, putting our things down, I saw him sit on the couch while I was still across the room. It was that moment when I looked down at my outfit and noticed my bondage like straps poking out of my dress. A surge of confidence surrounded me as I looked at him on the couch.
I gracefully stood in front of him, locking eyes without abandonment.
He wasn’t afraid of my gaze. My eyes didn’t move as my hand searched for my zipper.
A gentle tug began to reveal the shortcomings of my dress and reveal the surprise of my skin.
The straps of my dress fell past my shoulders as the bodice loosened.
I saw his eyes shift from my gaze to my body. Taking me in as I continued my unveiling.
My breasts were the center of a bonding triangle. The cups of my lacy bra barely cover my nipples but create a table for the heaviness of my chest. My stomach was taught and toned, a visual representation of my athleticism. I pushed the dress past my hips and watched it as it dropped to the floor as my hands began moving around my skin like they were searching for something.
At the moment, I don’t think about anything. I stay present, in the space of complete absorption of each other. I am not even conscious of my movement or overthinking my performance. My mind shuts off while my body tells me what to do, where to touch. Without thinking, I begin moving closer towards him; like a magnet who can’t resist being pulled. His hands extended out as I became within arms reach. HIs mouth, fingers and tongue search for satisfaction all over my body.
It is in these moments, I go dark; lost in the passion and chemistry. WHile his hands roam, I push my most sensitive parts in his direction. Our chemistry is so entwined that it becomes a dance. My movements match his; as if we are performing sexual choreography. We are completely fluid and moving with each other so that it feels like we are one. What makes my experience with him unique is the time he takes to consume me. He isn’t in a rush. He wants to experience me, to make his exploration last as long as possible; knowing that the destination will provide a means to an end. Just like he is in life, he isn’t afraid to explore outside of assumed boundaries. He would rather ask for forgiveness than for permission; so he goes after what he wants and I go after what I want. For me, the experience is what movies are made out of; the passion, the spontaneity, the uncontrollable lust.
Unlike other relationships I have had, sex with him is not lifeless.
It doesn’t feel like a series of predetermined movements that end with a moan and a collapse.
He has a procedure but it doesn’t start in the bedroom.
Instead, it starts with conversation. He knows that connection is important in any sexual experience and he secretly creates the connection through chatter or as he refers to it “a brain boner”. It is important for women to feel valued and he does this without being overwhelming or overly sappy. It is just enough to connect but keep you wanting more. Just when I think our relationship is headed into a solely sexual direction, he makes a romantic gesture, creates a surprise. Sometimes I wonder if he does this specifically for me because he knows that I will take flight at the first sign of boredom, or if this is what he does for everyone; just a part of his overall seduction. I want to think I am special but I only have small nuggets of proof. And since I am a “play it safe” kind of girl, I wait patiently for his feelings to become so obvious that they smack me in the face. But we aren’t there yet.
As I stop my mind from fantasizing about the future, I am snapped back to reality where I am on his couch, caught in his embrace and his breath. There is no piece of furniture that is off limits, no position that is too risqué, being with him is the ultimate freedom and I relish in it with wild abandonment. Minutes seem like seconds and hours pass by without notice. He talks to me while he explores me; telling me what he wants and what he likes. Asking me how his tongue feels on my sensitive parts and how hard I like his hands. So many men never take the time to communicate during sex. So many assumptions are made and at the end; it feels like a performance for someone else. But with Mr. Grey, there was no performance. The bigger the sexual risk, the greater the reward. He was comfortable; not just with me but with himself. HIs sexuality was a place that he knew and loved. He wasn’t shy about who he was and what he liked. He taught me things that I thought were circus tricks only found on YouPorn but were actual moments of complete ecstasy. I was learning from him; in an area that I thought I had mastered. Nothing is ever the same with him. He is the ultimate adventure; in more ways than one. I had never met anyone like him and I felt myself falling for him. I was falling for a man that I dismissed because I thought he wanted to tie me down, take away my freedom and limit my life.
How wrong I was about him. There were many ways I could have disposed of him. I could have ghosted him or simply sent a “it’s not you, it’s me” cop out message. But I didn’t. I was honest about my feelings; telling him that I didn’t want a relationship but I still wanted something with him. That honest communication was what we started with and what kept us going. As time went on, our communication allowed us to navigate uncharted territory. It is what helped quiet my insecurities and provoke my deepest desires. It was the basis of everything.
Rule of Engagement #4
Communicate, even when it is hard.
My sexual experience with Mr. Grey never ends; they simply pause. Sometimes they pause for days and sometimes they pause for mere minutes. As I lay next to him, covered in sweat with only the sound of a fan and our heaving breath, I look at him but say nothing. I know he sees me by the slight pulse in his lips although his eyes remain fixed at the ceiling. He begins to move and I think he is getting up, but instead; he puts his arm around me. He hugs me tight and holds me there for as long as I will stay. It is the never ending contradiction of his persona; the push pull of his personality. In that moment, I was happy, satisfied and felt like the luckiest girl in the world. But then his phone beeps and he reluctantly reaches for it. I want to know who it is so I ask and he tells me.
“It’s Rocker Chick”, he says calmly, “I invited her to join me in the hot tub tomorrow”.
A cloud of jealousy shadows my entire being and I try not to pull away from him. I don’t have reason to be upset since this is the nature of our relationship; something I wanted and subscribed to. But in this moment, it was like my heart was being squeezed in a vice. I wanted to scream to relieve the internal tension but instead plastered a smile on my face and played it cool.
“Don’t freak out Carrie”, I told myself.
But as Mr. Grey’s relationship with Rocker Chick progressed, I knew that I was a ticking time bomb…..
Next:
Chapter 4: Rocker Chick