SixSex: A six part series on successful seduction [MF], Part 1

**Part 1: Sleeping Arrangements**

“Ok, so sleeping arrangements – there’s the king-size pull-out sofa in the living room, or I could get an air mattress and bring it into my room. Or…you could sleep in my bed. I’ll leave it up to you.”

I blinked and tried to act normal. “You’re giving me the choice?”

“Yup.”

“Okay then, I’ll sleep in your bed.”

—-

It had been 5 years since we slept in the same bed. Ryan was my boyfriend from college; we had dated my senior year and a little bit into post-college life. We had a hot and heavy relationship, with an intense and passionate sexual attraction that often led to us having intercourse anywhere and everywhere. We had fucked in the university library, at night and onstage in an 8,500-seat outdoor amphitheater, in multiple forests, in his car, you get the idea…

But that seemed like a lifetime ago. After a rough patch of much-needed space and distance, we had maintained a platonic friendship. He had dated other people, and so had I. Now, I was in San Francisco for a work trip, and Ryan had offered his apartment for the two weekends sandwiching the work week. We both happened to be single.

—-

I awkwardly retrieved my PJs from my suitcase and hesitantly started undressing to get changed. I wasn’t sure if he was looking at my back, but my whole body felt hot as if his eyes were on fire and glued to my skin. I carefully slipped off my pants, trying to be graceful (not fall over) and sexy (but not too sexy) at the same time.

As we both went to brush our teeth and get ready for bed, my heart was already racing and my mind was spacey. I had come here without expectations, but I definitely had vivid fantasies. I crawled into bed, and we started watching a show on Ryan’s laptop. I honestly can’t remember what show he picked. We were lying close, but not touching. I slowly inched my body closer to his, and I could feel the heat of his legs, core, and chest radiating underneath the blanket. I was drawn to him like a shy magnet too nervous to give into the full attraction, but well aware that I wouldn’t be able to fight the pull if I gave in and succumbed to my temptations. I tilted my head an inch closer to his shoulder, lightly grazing the side of his arm with my cheek before freezing in an awkward position so as to not to seem too obvious or too forward. He made no reciprocative moves. When it was time to sleep, Ryan went to turn off the lights and then came back into bed. In that fleeting transitory moment of newfound darkness, the uncertainty of the situation hung in the air. Ryan quelled any doubt by stiffening and saying, “I don’t want to have sex. I don’t think we should.”

I was nothing short of shocked. The abruptness of the comment caught me off guard, and once the surprise dissipated, confusion set in. All I could mutter was a measley, “Okay,” followed by a sincerely curious yet also yearningly desperate, “Why not?”

He told me our situation was complicated due to our romantic past. Of course I knew this, and I couldn’t deny it. But my passion and lust in the moment were clouding my sensible mind, which usually is not so easily disarmed. Ryan proceeded to explain how bad he felt for hurting me so gravely when he ended our relationship years ago, and how the breakup had been hard for him despite it being his decision. His references to the past temporarily transported me back to a sad place; I felt a wave of the heartbreak that had once been so piercing and painful but that I had overcome through time and distance. But then I snapped back to the present, recognizing the feeling as nostalgic but one of the past, and acknowledging that we had both lived five years of separate experiences between then and now.

“You can’t feel guilty forever,” I said earnestly. While I appreciated his delicateness around our situation, I was a bit surprised by how much he seemed to be conflicted. I was pretty sure I could sense his attraction to me – there was this weird essence of deja vu in the air despite the fact nothing had happened except the smallest displays of sexual tension. We chatted for a bit about the realities of the situation: we had indeed been in a serious relationship years ago and the breakup was rough, devastating, and sobering in a variety of ways. I couldn’t argue with that, and I had to respect his wishes. But I was also extremely confused about why he had offered me his bed. The proposal seemed to be the definition of a mixed signal.

I laid awake for minutes, then hours, drifting off only to wake up and remember where I was and who I was next to. His pheromones were working a number on me. He smelled so good – not like cologne or detergent, but he possessed a natural aroma that was like catnip for me – and I started to picture his body underneath his clothes. In my mind’s eye, I could see the shapes, curves, and edges that I once knew so well. I could sense Ryan was awake, too. I think I deliriously blurted out at one point “This is torture,” and he murmured an agreement. At one point, our pinky toes touched. It was literally the least amount of surface area in which our bodies could make contact, but it felt like two electric eels accidentally colliding in the night waters of a deep blue ocean beneath the covers. We exhaustively made it to the morning, lying two inches apart from each other, barely sleeping, and both resisting the urge to rekindle an old flame.

That was day one.

—

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/intig1/sixsex_a_six_part_series_on_successful_seduction