Taking Our Time: Why I Love Long Dates

When I sit down to write something, I never know exactly what it will become. I might have an idea I’ve been mulling over, a phrase looping in my head, or some subtle sense of what I’m trying to say. But the journey to a completed piece (and consequently, that sense of satisfaction, that lower-spine tingle that says “yes, this is *exactly* right”) is always a surprising one. It seems, strangely, to have less to do with skill than with how much time I'm willing to devote. When I slow down, give my full attention, and allow myself to be present, the entire process transforms.

Good things take time. Like warm, handmade pasta or the release of a full-body massage, certain things can't be achieved by rushing. With enough time, many things that might seem impossible fall within reach; time is the first ingredient in all magic.

I find that intimacy is no exception.

Lingering over dessert, hours tangled up in the sheets, the deep shared relaxation that follows; the most intense moments of pleasure in my life may have been ephemeral, but they were never rushed. Noticing this has defined how I approach attraction, dating, and companionship: the type of connection I enjoy needs space to breathe.

With that in mind, what follows is a small peek into what I love about extended dates, the kind that unfold over the course of hours, afternoons, evenings, and longer. Whether you’re interested in spending some time together, or simply curious about my approach, take a moment to slow down with me and learn what I love about taking my time.

Let's Not Be Strangers

As much as I melt for being touched, I melt for learning about the person who’s touching me. I love having the chance to know a little (or a lot) about the person I’m spending time with.

If you've found me and decided to reach out, I'm already curious about you. Something about me caught your attention, and I can't help but be curious about what it was. Knowing about the person beside me gives me somewhere to place my affection, makes the pleasure we share richer, and always leaves me more satisfied. I’ve realized that I’m simply not fond of feeling like strangers.

For those who are interested, I like to share a bit of myself as well. I’m cuddly, warm, and I love to trade shoulder rubs, but I also love trading stories and history. If you ask, you might hear about the years I spent living on the road, the science career I accidentally wandered away from, a book that's been living in my head lately, or a dream I'm working toward.

Of course, conversation isn’t the only way to know each other. With time, we notice things: carnal preferences that are almost impossible to verbalize, comfortable rhythms that emerge. We begin to understand one another in unspoken ways.

With enough time, who knows what we might discover.

Road Trips, Not Cruises

After traveling nearly full-time for the past several years, I've realized I'm much more of a road trip than a cruise.

I like detours. I like pulling over because something catches my eye. I like having enough time to follow my curiosity instead of sticking to an itinerary. When everything is predetermined, I find myself going through the motions.

I don't enjoy following a script. Not in my life, and not in my connections. The interesting part isn't the itinerary. It's who I'm traveling with.

When we take the time to settle into each other's company, our unique chemistry begins to reveal itself; curiosity and comfort shape what comes next.

Every person brings something different out of me. Some people make me want to tease them. Others make me deeply curious and reflective. Some bring out my submissive side, and others make me want to take the lead. Occasionally, the conversation becomes the most exciting part of the evening. At other times, words become unimportant altogether.

I like leaving enough room to discover what only this particular combination of two people can create.

Before the Water Boils

Few things are more delicious than fresh handmade pasta cooked right in your own kitchen.

It's not just the texture, or even the taste. It’s because of the time you've spent looking forward to it. Before you've even lit the stove, you can picture the first bite.

You work the dough gently with your hands until it becomes impossibly soft, warm, inviting. You breathe in its aroma. You dust it with flour and let it rest, stealing little glances at it while the water comes to a boil, admiring it glistening on the countertop. By the time you finally sit down to eat, you've already been savoring the meal for hours.

Anticipation isn't separate from pleasure. It is the pleasure.

And when you've found the right pasta, sometimes she savors you right back.

Warm Sand, Rising Tide

Something changes in me when I'm relaxed. My body is capable of extraordinary pleasure when it feels safe, unhurried, and at ease. I’ve learned that my own pleasure always begins with these ingredients.

When I'm relaxed, I notice everything more. Every touch feels richer. My body becomes more responsive, more playful, more aware. Pleasure has room to bloom instead of being hurried along.

The gentleness or intensity of our chemistry matters surprisingly little to me; I enjoy both. What matters is that wherever we arrive together, my body has had the chance to settle there eagerly.

When I'm relaxed, I feel like warm sand receiving the tide. The waves can arrive gently or with surprising force, quickly or achingly slow. What makes it all breathtaking is that the shore is eager to receive them.

The Credits Roll

I always watch the credits.

I like that quiet moment while the soundtrack plays and the smell of popcorn is still lingering in the cold movie theater as the names scroll across the screen. I wait while everyone else climbs out of their seats and files toward the exit. I'm often the last person left in the room.

I don't mind. I'm not done enjoying myself.

For me, the space afterward is part of the experience.

In the moments that follow the arc of our time together – the anticipation, the discovery, the laughter, the pleasure – I don't feel any urgency to put the time behind us. I like taking a breath. Sharing a sip of water. Looking over at each other with that quiet, satisfied expression that says, Well... we certainly made good use of our time. So let's not rush to put ourselves back together just yet.

We earned the chance to enjoy it.