Journey Today

November 6. Sunday Night.

Hi Journey.

OK, Saturday was actually not a bad date, really. Sometimes I totally twist-tie my mind worrying over how things might turn out.

Mattie used to tell me I always wrote the review before I sat through the flick.

She was spot-on, as usual.

I'm trying my best not to do that with Jim Hanson. No pre-scripting, Crystal; that's the new rule.

Still, I could tell by the brief hug he gave me when he met me outside my apartment that he is both courteous and strong—two essential ingredients in a good lover. He didn't rasp his chest across mine as if he was judging my bra size. Instead he bent slightly toward me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders and touched his chin to the base of my neck as he gently squeezed me. I reached around to either side of his spine and squeezed back. His muscles felt firm and toned, as if he'd spent hours in the gym on a rowing machine.

And we went to a movie. The new Zorro flick with Antonio Banderas and Catherine Zeta-Jones. It was a compromise. After we walked over to Horsefeathers for a few beers and a post-show Siskel-session.

Jim has entered the waste-cleanup field five years ago, straightaway out of college. He's part of the initial site survey crew that goes to a toxic facility and evaluates the problem and sets about investigating into a solution. Mostly it's a lot of coring of soil samples and water samples and lab work.

Of course, they're in HazMat suits much of the time when they are on site. Not much chance of getting a tan; and even less opportunity to develop any real relationships with people. Mostly movies and novels and workouts in the hotel. Found out he's a swimmer, which explains the muscle tone.

 
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He did a great Antonio Banderas imitation. I laughed so hard beer nearly squirted out my left nostril. I reflexively sniffed double-quick, or it would have been a mess. Lordy, but it's been ages since any guy has had me rolling that hard. My abs are still sore a day later.

He dropped me off back at Whitby . Just a little kiss, at the door. Part of me seriously wanted him to rush right up but that's not my style. At least not on just two beers, Journey. His kiss was firm but moist. I felt his lips part just a little, as if he was opening up himself to me to explore him more. But when I chose not to there was no resistance, and he didn't linger. He just pulled back and gave me one more of his strong hugs.

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