This is the story of how I met a woman who would have a profound impact on my life.

I was at a mountaineering conference at the time. It was hosted in a mountain village. It took over the entire main street, strung up with lights, and ended in a massive stone and timber lodge covered in prayer flags and lanterns. Hundreds of people had come from around the world to tell stories about mountaineering, climbing, exploring, and life at the extreme.

As a full-time nomad and one who fits into this crew pretty well, it’s usually difficult for me to make connections elsewhere. It’s another story entirely, but I usually find that people are intimidated or don’t know what to make of me. But here, I was surrounded by fit, attractive, passionate people who were my tribe. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, I started thinking about a particular brand of excitement. I tried my best to meet people (not just for dates—this is, after all, my chance to make friends with similar interests)… but I also fired up the dating apps. Whether or not I made friends and connections, I was hoping to have a fun mountain fling.

Enter Lyra. Her profile was a mosaic of neon hair colors and an incredible smile, but what impressed me was her bio. She worked in the environment, was a nerd, had a long-term partner, and was well-practiced in polyamory. I hadn’t seen her around the conference, but she must have been nearby.

When we matched, it wasn’t right to sexting. We actually talked and chatted about archery, dinosaurs, stars, and DnD. We nearly met up that night to keep chatting, but I was running a race through the mountains the next day, so we thought better of it. The conversation was easy though, cheesy at some points, and a lot of fun. Despite having an early morning, we didn’t stop chatting until past midnight.

The next day was another story. Lyra remembered that I’d mentioned the race and wished me luck. As any trail runner knows, you get very muddy, especially running up and down steep slopes in the rain. Very quickly, what had been fun and light conversation rapidly turned into euphemisms about endurance, various means of getting dirty, and fun ideas of what else we might do while washing up. She sent me some coy nudes from a photoshoot she’d done for good luck, and I (with consent) sent her some shots of me in the shower afterward. That chemistry from the night before had laid the foundation for some fun and safe flirting that carried on for the majority of the day.

We met that night for churros and beer. Well, ostensibly for churros and beer. I’d made it clear that the ball was in her court on what happened after that, so I went in expecting to have some fun flirty conversation and to see where she wanted to take it. As much as I anticipated being flirty, we actually talked about much more personal stuff, like our troubled youths and the sometimes difficult process of getting into polyamory, (and more than a little DnD). It was one of those times when you really just hit it off with a person, and I could feel that chemistry building.

When I asked if I could kiss her, it wasn’t because I wanted to hook up. I felt a powerful human connection, and I needed some way to express it.

When I pressed her up against the wall in the alley though, that was pure lust.

“I fucked a guy in this car park lot last week,” she said when we got back to her car. “I think it might be too busy for that though. Hop in. I know a place.”

For the next ten minutes, we talked about the local area, nature, hiking, or whatever came to mind, while my hand was between her legs. I slowly rubbed circles around her clit through her yoga pants.

When we pulled off, it was into a lay-by with two other cars already parked there.

“I wonder if they’re also hooking up,” I mused while we folded down the seats.

Lyra smiled, looking out the window. “I don’t think there’s anyone in them, but maybe we can give some walkers a show. ”

“You like being seen?” I asked, starting to kiss her neck.

As if in response, she pulled her top off.

“It’s a bit of a kink.”

Once we started kissing again, there was no stopping us. That chemistry boiled over. Whatever lingering reservations we had absolutely dissolved. I don’t remember removing clothes, I don’t remember even speaking, but I do remember how it felt to slip inside Lyra for the first time. The way her eyes went wide with passion, her legs wrapped tight around me, pulling me as deep as possible inside of her. I remember her nails digging into my back, and the rug burn on my knees from driving into her over and over with everything that I had, because this connection was the only thing that mattered.

I genuinely lost track of the passage of time. If you’ve ever felt this kind of connection, you might know what I mean. It’s as if you’re being pulled together, and everything that you are is expressed in the tension in your core, the tightness of your muscles, the taste of the sweat on her body, your fingers entwined.

If you haven’t experienced this, then I’m so excited for you to feel it for the first time.

We laid in the back of her car for a long time, after. We cuddled, soaked in sweat and covered in whatever was in her back seat. We kissed and talked and watched the headlights pass through the windows above us. Those people who parked next to us came back, and we hid under the cover of the door (as if the windows weren’t completely fogged up already).

At some point, I kissed Lyra’s shoulder and decided I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to taste every inch of her. I kissed her neck, behind her ear, tasting the sweat that made her neon hair wet. I trailed my lips down, feeling her pulse against my tongue as she let slip a little groan. I kissed down her collarbone, discovering the freckles across her chest for the first time, trying to kiss each and every one. Then down her side, feeling her shiver and smile beneath me, which made me melt completely. I moaned deeply when I traced my lips over her hips.

Twisted up in the back seat of her car, I parted Lyra’s legs and kissed her mound, her lips, and finally, her clit. She breathed heavily above me with a whimper. That chemistry hadn’t gone anywhere, but now I had the clarity to spend time in it, I wanted to make Lyra smile, I wanted to make her gasp and moan and giggle. I wanted to make her feel as wonderful as she’d made me feel since we first said ‘hello’. So I took my time, grinning my own Cheshire grin while my eyes met hers, grinning wider when she threw her head back and gripped anything in reach.

One of my favorite things ever is discovering what makes my partners feel good. That mutual exploration, not just of what one person likes but how you both fit and move together, how you communicate with your words and your bodies, and how you learn from each other. I loved exploring Lyra. I loved listening to every little gasp and feeling every little twitch.

Exploring turned to playing, teasing, laughing together and growling with a smile. Playing led to … well, at a certain point, I needed to feel Lyra cum around my fingers and on my tongue. I needed to taste her cum, to feel her cumming for me. What had been exploring fingers became determined as I dragged them up over her g-spot, slowly building harder and harder. My tongue stopped gently circling her clit, and began licking faster and faster. I had to hold down her hips, but mine were moving just the same, both of us completely rolling our bodies in time with each other.

I don’t know how many times she came. Sometimes they’re just rolling orgasms. I do know that I had no intention of stopping. Really, ever if she would let me.

Alas, she did not. I have no idea how much later it was, but she pulled me up, gasping and giggling, and tasted herself on my lips. While we kissed, my cock grazed against her dripping pussy and we both cursed into each others mouths. I angled my cock to run along her clit as we rocked together, sliding my length over her.

We barely got a condom on (safety first) before I was buried inside of her again. I wrapped one hand behind her head, locking eyes with her, while the other hand wove my fingers between hers. We rolled together in the back of her car, in something between primal need and making love.

Later, when we were walking again through town, hand in hand, head practically on my shoulder, I said, “I don’t want to never do this again.”

It sounded silly, but I couldn’t explain it any other way. I wasn’t thinking “I want to do this again”. I was thinking about the potential to discover this incredible connection, to have such amazing personal chemistry, to be fascinated by Lyra, to have formed a bond like this in two days, and then to never see each other again. It would be so easy to just call it a hookup at a conference halfway across the country. I didn’t want that. So I said what I meant: I don’t want to never do this again.

Lyra smiled, in a way that told me she’d been thinking the same thing.

“I’m going to your city in two weeks. I’ll have a hotel room.”