Try to understand - he's a Magic(ian) Man!

Last Saturday, I hung out with the Magician. The plan was to hang out in the afternoon - watch a movie, probably, then I'd go home for dinner with Apollo (who had to work that day), then back out to see the Magician sing in a choral concert. I invited Apollo, who declined on the basis of Tired and Worn Out.
I got to his place sometime around three, and after enthusiastically greeting his cats and meeting his roommate, we decided on Batman Begins, since I'd yet to see it, and simply must see the one coming out in July (oh, Heath Ledger. Another teen crush in the Dead Guys pile, along with Jim Morrison and George Harrison). I really enjoyed the movie. Which means that I paid attention. There was minimal cuddling - some back rubbing and head-scratching, but that was it.
Left, picked up food for Apollo and myself on the way home, and had a lovely dinner (and a quickie! Whee!) before going back out to hear my first ever Requiem (Verdi's, for those interested). I thoroughly enjoyed it...though I had to restrain my laughter when I saw "Pie Jesu Domine/Dona eis requiem" in the lyrics/libretto? and realized that it's what the monks in The Quest for the Holy Grail are chanting.
Afterwards, the Magician mentioned that some folks were going to the Mellow Mushroom, and asked when I needed to be home. I called Apollo to find out where he was on the Going To Bed process - and found him very nearly there; thus, he didn't care if I stayed out later - he'd be sleeping either way. So, I decided to stay out. But upon further reflection, we decided that The Mellow Mushroom was very likely to be very, very crowded at 9:30 on a Saturday night. So we went back to his place and watched Spaceballs with his roommate - another first viewing for me! There was substantially more cuddling. There was also a mid-movie pause for the getting of ice-cream, then more cuddling. There was more cuddling after the movie ended.
And by cuddling, I mean deliberate, exquisite skritches - nails on the stomach, legs, arms, back and neck. Thorough backrubs. Fingers in my hair. And he was so careful, so conscientious, skirting the boundaries of being explicitly "sexual" - running his fingers right below my bra and right above my breasts, along, but not under, the edge of my skirt. Oh, shivers. Asking, low and compelling, "Do you want more?" My answer of an enthusiastic nod and a few incoherent syllables led to his hand suddenly on my breast, over my clothes, but still electric. Edging, patiently, under shirt, under bra to run those nails over my nipples as I clutched at him, writhing. His hands in my hair, pulling just right - large sections of hair, with steady, intense force. Acquiescing with no visible annoyance or distress to my need to keep it above the waist. And he held me, grounding and gentling me down, before I left that night.

As the song says,
"Mm, he's a magic man.
Ahh, he's got magic hands."

What an abundance I have at this time in my life. What plenitude of uniqueness. Even with all the work, the balancing, the scheduling, the schoolwork....even with all that, I can't imagine preferring monogamy. There's too much out there. Too many amazing people with too many exquisite talents/selves/bodies. There's too great a range of sexual/sensual experience and joy...from the comfortable, thrilling full-on intercourse with Apollo to random flirtation, with bites and skritches, at Rocky to playdates to militant cuddling on couches. I love it all. I want it all. I don't want to choose or exclude. I'm willing to work at it to have it all. Willing to continue working on communication and time management skills. Willing to keep examining and checking motives and ethical situations. Willing to accept that this...this...greed? ravenous-ness? expansiveness of affection? generosity with myself? ....whatever...is worthy of being nurtured and indulged, within the bounds of ethical behavior. Willing to keep listening to my boundaries for sexual and emotional connection, even when they seem silly to me...understanding that they don't have to make sense, they just are.
Life is so damn good.