The Art of Getting Lit Laid

I'd like to plant a question in the conversation, but first I have to admit I haven't read all 50 pages. If it's been asked and answered my apologies.

While I understand the whole "build slowly and create something meaningful" approach, but I have to say that in my non-Lit online experience, some of the hottest encounters have been relatively spontaneous resulting from a chance meeting of two people who just really, really, really need to get laid. Isn't that a thing anymore?
Well if you really, really, really need to, then thanks ok
*Winks*
But seriously, there's no right or wrong way. If that's how it starts for you, then great, and I agree that's really hot!
I hope that the connection goes beyond that awesome start.
 
I certainly did not mean to imply moving THAT quickly. Rather, I'm talking more about a kind of connection that reveals itself early on. That kind of thing where you find yourself saying, "yeah, that's what I'm talking about" or "wow, she seems to get me and I definitely get her." It's usually not a single conversation, or if it is, it's not a short one. My point simply is that sometimes lightning strikes and strikes quickly.
Oh ... Okay. Yea. I was moving way faster than that, in what I thought you were saying....

Yes, THATS the holy Grail
 
Surprises in Lit take many forms. What begins as something hot in the moment can grow into a steady flame - one that roars brighter every time you come together. And sometimes it’s the quiet flicker of friendship over time that suddenly blossoms into a blaze you never saw coming.

What I truly hope is that the connection stays - that it doesn’t fizzle after just one encounter, but keeps burning in ways that matter.
 
The Danger of Wanting

It begins so quietly.
A username on a screen,
just letters in the endless stream.
You don’t notice at first.

Then one day,
their words slip under your skin.
A sentence grazes you like fingertips.
A reply lingers, warm as breath on your neck.
A whisper of recognition brushes your ribs,
and you shiver though no one is there.

And suddenly, you’re searching for them.
Waiting for the glow of their name.
Measuring the silence between their replies
like heartbeats.

That’s how it happens -
how curiosity sharpens into ache,
how words turn into touches,
how distance becomes unbearable nearness.

That’s when the danger begins -
when the ordinary becomes personal,
when the distant becomes intimate.

Because a username is safe,
until it isn’t.
Until it becomes the one you ache for,
the one whose hello feels like touch,
whose absence feels like hunger.

And with the wanting comes the fear:
Will they want me too?
Or am I just a ghost,
pressing my longing against glass,
watching them shine for someone else?

The danger of wanting is this:
a name on a screen
suddenly holds the powder
to ruin me -
or ignite me.
 
The hangglider sounds diceier than the time a woman gave me a reach around hand job through my jeans on a motorcycle
I had one of those and almost ran off the road. Something about the combinationf of the hand, the nails and the vibration. I was going too fast and came up on a curve and the brakes not working as weill with a double load!
 
I had one of those and almost ran off the road. Something about the combinationf of the hand, the nails and the vibration. I was going too fast and came up on a curve and the brakes not working as weill with a double load!
Huh
I did know that was a real thing y'all thought about, I have a story posted here about reach around handjobs....
At least very similarly
 
The Danger of Wanting

It begins so quietly.
A username on a screen,
just letters in the endless stream.
You don’t notice at first.

Then one day,
their words slip under your skin.
A sentence grazes you like fingertips.
A reply lingers, warm as breath on your neck.
A whisper of recognition brushes your ribs,
and you shiver though no one is there.

And suddenly, you’re searching for them.
Waiting for the glow of their name.
Measuring the silence between their replies
like heartbeats.

That’s how it happens -
how curiosity sharpens into ache,
how words turn into touches,
how distance becomes unbearable nearness.

That’s when the danger begins -
when the ordinary becomes personal,
when the distant becomes intimate.

Because a username is safe,
until it isn’t.
Until it becomes the one you ache for,
the one whose hello feels like touch,
whose absence feels like hunger.

And with the wanting comes the fear:
Will they want me too?
Or am I just a ghost,
pressing my longing against glass,
watching them shine for someone else?

The danger of wanting is this:
a name on a screen
suddenly holds the powder
to ruin me -
or ignite me.
Ignition please.
Where's my bic that I wanna flick?
 
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