The first time I saw Cam, she was supervising the self-service checkouts in the supermarket. I’d just come out of a long term relationship with my childhood sweetheart, Ray, a man who I still loved but no longer loved passionately enough to follow him where he was going. I waved him off at the train station and he passed out of my life, gone forever.
Cam was something completely different.
The way she stood, the way she moved, could only be described as lithe. She was slim and tall, but petite, with jet black hair cut short and swept to the side. I caught her eyes, watching me, and felt my interest prick. It was the first time I’d ever admitted to myself that I found women attractive.
I saw her a few times after that, always in the supermarket. I started to find myself taking note of her shift patterns, going in without any idea what I would buy just so that I could see her. Eventually I plucked up the courage to say a few words, then we had a conversation, then I invited her out to dinner. She said yes.
The first time I shared my bed with her, I half wondered what I was doing. Cam was beautiful but I considered myself plain. A bit of belly fat, a bit short, plump fingers. Ray always said he loved to look at me, but I saw the women he worked with and had to wonder.
Cam ran her fingers along my skin and kissed the flesh at my thighs. She said that all bodies were beautiful, that people only invented concepts of beauty and perfection to oppress women. I didn’t know what she meant, but I admired the passion behind her words, enjoyed the way she watched me move as I undressed, as I ground against her, as I lay back while she inserted dexterous fingers inside me.
She told me that she dreamed of travelling the world, that she was saving what she could so that she could afford to just leave and see everything there was to see. She said that she would write about it and take photographs, publish articles and books and give the money to animal and children’s charities.
I loved her.
The look in her eyes as she told me her plans was like that of a child talking about a new discovery. She lived passionately, not caring what others thought, who might put her down or laugh and tell her that it was a stupid fantasy. I encouraged her and encouraged her until one day she left me.
Cam asked if I would go with her, but I couldn’t. I loved her, but as with Ray I didn’t love her enough to follow her. She cried and I told her to go, to live her life, to enjoy every moment of every day.
Last week, I saw her name. It was on the spine of a travel book. I bought a copy, read it in a single afternoon. Some of the places she’s been, oh my word, they are so exotic. She’s met people, seen things, done things that the rest of us dream about.
I’ve met someone else. A man. He’s good to me, he treats me well, he’s gentle and loving in bed and tells me I make him happy. I feel safe with him. Not excited, but safe. I know that he won’t leave and ask me to follow.
Written for Masturbation Monday Week 145. If you’re not already a fan then head over to the main site for lots more sexy stories!