Max Power: 3

You know who I am? I’m a girl who wears lightning bolt earrings on a date with an electrician. I’m also a girl who listens well, and remembered that Max likes black lingerie.

She picked a gorgeous boutique hotel with a charming 120 year old elevator. The only time I’ve ever been on one like it was in Havana, I had no idea we had one like this in my city.

I didn’t waste any time, I was brave and I kissed her as soon as we were in her room. She had the TV on, an old Simpson’s episode blared in the background, I don’t think I’ve made out to a Simpson’s episode since high school. It was the episode where Homer changes his name to Max Power. I bit my tongue and giggled on the inside as I made a mental note to use this for her nickname. It was perfect.

She unzipped my sundress so delicately. She fawned over me as she undressed me, piece by piece. I haven’t been intimate with someone new in a long time. She made it easy. “You look so fucking good naked,” she said as she squeezed my thighs. She was all soft kisses and hard abs, tattoos trailing across her hips.

I still get shivers when I think of how she pulled me on top of her before I could get her pants off and made me grind against her. Her hands firm on my hips guiding me, my hair wild and sticking to our sweat and our wet mouths, her breath catching, my little whimpers. I blushed when I saw the slippery wet spot I left on her zipper fly.

We fucked for hours. It was so fucking good. And then we got dressed, went downstairs for a smoke, and went back up to the hotel room so she could undress me all over again.

I’d secretly been a bit anxious that she just wanted to hook up and would fade away after we did (and I was totally prepared for that to happen) so imagine my delight when we were still naked and glowing and she said “when can I see you again?”

She is thoughtful and kind, she listens, she thinks ahead, she texts me first. Sometimes I date people with none of these qualities, I have them in spades so it feels like I have plenty to make up for their deficit, but it feels really good to be with someone whose love language is affirmation and care.

It was so late when I finally left, she had to be up for a flight in just a few hours. I savoured the quiet cab ride, smiling when I realized I could still smell her cologne.

I was too giddy to sleep when I got home, even though it was the middle of the night. I pulled a joint from my little zippered purse and something fell to the floor.

It was a bay leaf we used in a witchy ritual at the last Slumber Party. Bee brought them and asked us all to write down something we needed in our life, something we were calling for. I’d been treated poorly that day by a partner I cared for, I wrote down “kindness” in a plea to the universe. I tucked it away in my little weed pouch and forgot about it.

Holding it gently with my fingertips now felt destined. It came true.

I tip-toed onto the porch, careful not to wake anyone, and smoked in silence with a smile on my face while the sky filled with lighting.

(I couldn’t believe there was an electrical storm the first night I fucked an electrician! Sometimes it feels like the universe is truly on my side.)

(This is Part 3 of 4 - read Part 4 here.)