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Driving up to see him there is a certain apprehension. Our time together is anything but predictable. Even as I think this, I laugh out loud. This instability is the biggest turn on of them all. How will he look at me? Will he reach out and touch my bare skin, or be uninterested, more focused on the television or his revered music collection? Is he thinking of me as I make the long drive? I honestly could not tell you. I'm a sucker for a challenge and he presents an undeniable one. The best part of the puzzle is that it isn't merely a question of sexual chemistry. When I'm with him I watch the wheels turning in his well oiled mind as I search for the blueprint. What in god's name is going on up there? And do I really want to know, or is it simply the mystery that keeps me coming back for more...

The sight of the Appalachians rising in front of me sends shivers down my spine. I know now there is only about an hour before I walk up to the old hotel and knock on his door, with the all the nervousness of a little girl. But to be clear, it isn't him that makes me nervous. It is in fact my own eagerness that leaves me with butterflies. I will approach his door after a four and a half hour drive, looking my best, and obviously expecting something. What does this say? Am I that desperate for him? For the sex? Or just for the newness of the situation? I justify it as being a combination of the three. I have a hard time getting excited about sex with a person that I'm not excited about. Similarly, I am generally not enticed by a person if they don't bring a certain novelty and refreshment to my present state. Regardless ...

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