Sex and Spice and everything nice

I had only tried Indian food one time before I met Catalyst.  I went with one of my friends who is a vegetarian figuring she would know all about I but it turned out that it was her first time too, so we ate some mighty tasty spicy food that we had no idea how to pronounce or interprets!  Even before “meeting” Catalyst in person, he talked about curry coma’s and naan bread so much that I found myself going to the Indian restaurant just so I could have a point of reference.  I would get stuff off the buffet, text him a picture and he would tell me about it with great flourish and detail.   I even got invited to a birthday dinner to a upscale Indian restaurant…he was so kind to look online at the menu and help me place my order.  That was quite a day, now that I recall…not only furthering my Indian food education, but the beginning of so much more for us. 

We texted about everything and yes, we started texting loads about sex too.  We talked about our past experiences, both good and bad.  His ex-wife had been a lot more adventurous than my ex, so he would share about things I’d never heard anyone talk about and sadly, how he had only received one blow job that ended terribly and never had another.  We talked about what we liked and didn’t like or would like to experience.  We talked about safe sex and getting tested for STD’s, birth control and more. 

Eventually, we even sexted…in fact, the first time we did was the very day of that birthday dinner.  It all started when I mentioned that I was going to read a book that everyone was talking about called “50 Shades of Grey.”  He said he had just gone to lunch with folks from work and they were talking about it.  At this point, I genuinely had no idea what the book was about, but he had learned on his lunch break and there, started our natural flow of conversation that led to my first experiences in sexting.  I was noticeably hot and bothered during that birthday dinner because we just couldn’t stop the naughty talk.  If only those gals knew why I was so attached to my phone that day, even I would have been blushing!  Although it was all new to actually type some of THOSE words, it felt exhilarating, freeing and honestly, natural somehow.

  There seems to be a lot of misconceptions about what sexting is and is not, and I supposed it can be different for each person.  For me, it is talking about what you wish you were doing to your guy and him in turn, talking about what he wishes he was doing to you.  Sometimes it ends with mutual satisfaction, sometimes not.  For some reason, sexting is just a little,well, a lot more exciting when you know at least one of you is in a crowded place or meeting, etc.  We’ve heard a lot about “sexting” recently because of Anthony Weiner.  However, they’ve only mentioned sending pictures and being that women aren’t visually stimulated for the most part (no, guys, pictures of your finer parts do not make us want to instantly jump you), I find this to be a very incomplete definition.    Regardless of the definition, everyone should give it a try with your significant other…”try it Mikie, you might like it!”

Finally the day came where Catalyst and I were both ready to make all those fantasies a reality, or something to that effect!  The good point of sexting before actually being with someone new is, you get a fairly good idea of what they really like and what might be a turn off to them.   For instance, I knew what had went wrong with that BJ (too much teeth) and wanted nothing more than to change his negative experience into a positive one. 

Both of us took off from work to have our first time together.   As soon as my kids were on the bus, I drove about an hour to his apartment.  I was so excited, so nervous, but yeah, more excited than anything else.  Okay that’s not totally it, after weeks of sexting  I was also horny, really horny. 

From our sexting, I knew Catalyst liked bra and panties but not necessarily lingerie, so I had bought a very sexy lacy pair of panties and a lacy bra.  It’s funny when you know you are PLANNING to have sex…especially when it will always go down in your history book.  Remember this was my first time post-divorce and second person ever, so there was some pressure building!  

Well, we did a quick little introduction, we were still standing just inside the doorway.  Catalyst gently grabbed my face started kissing me and I believe that it was maybe 4 minutes before he was approving of my lacy undergarments!  Remember it was just 9am…and being a bachelor, he had blinds but not curtains, so it was complete daylight!  There was no way to hide my lumps and bulges, the signs of gravity, all of the imperfection…yikes!   Lucky for us ladies, men have a tell-tale physical sign of their approval, so there’s no second guessing there…whew.  I did have to learn that when a Brit says “Nice” it’s not the same as an American one.  Nice is the kiss-of-death from an American man, but for a reserved Englishman, it means “wOwZer!”  But they would never say that. 

I won’t go through all the explicit details, but it was way better than my honeymoon…way better than even my best experience with my ex-husband…way better than any of that sexting and so much better than I had imagined.   Yes we did a lot of things we had talked about…he introduced me to new physical experiences guaranteed to be added to my repertoire…so again in another way, ever earning the moniker “Catalyst!”

Can we say SEVENTEEN ORGASMS?  Well I probably couldn’t when he got finished with me.  It was like something hidden away for so many years, broke inside of me.  Now, my ex-husband was good to me…I always got one, maybe two orgasms on occasions.  But let me just say, he could never find the g-spot, although I’m pretty sure if I had put a field goal pole there he might have tried harder but nope, he was never patient enough to really try.  However, Catalyst knew just where to find me, he knew just where to touch me, he knew just where to put his hands, use his mouth, make me feel every bit as sexual as I always knew I was and he made orgasms roll out of me over and over again.  I had no idea my body could even respond that way!   

After three hours of intense pleasure, we had to do what any reasonable, curry-loving, post-orgasmic people would do.  We took a break and went to the Indian restaurant.   I sat across from him, enjoying our food, listening to him tell me more about what I was eating, all the while wondering if the other people in the restaurant could see any signs of what had just happened to me.   Could anyone else see that I had just had this life-changing sexual experience?  Did anyone look at my messed up makeup and semi-mussed hair and then give Catalyst a knowing glance or thumbs up?  Wait…what did Catalyst just say about Dahl?   My mind was mush.

Catalyst had coined a term “curry coma” for that endorphine release you feel after eating very spicy food.  We got back to his apartment and lay on the bed…content.   But before we left our happy little bubble where he would return to work and I would go back to suburbia and mommy world, we just had to have more of each other.   There was more kissing, more touching, more all-things-oral, more completion of pleasure and more contentment for both of us. 

I drove home in a blissful daze, giggling and smiling all along the way.  I sat on my own couch with my mind and body completely exhausted in the best way possible.  I don’t remember a lot more about the rest of the day, but I do know this…now every time I have sex, I have this overwhelming and certain craving for Indian food. 

 I’ll admit I’m addicted…to curry, that is, okay and maybe earth-shattering orgasms too!  If only those were as easy to acquire as good Tikka Masala!