I had never been a fan of blowjobs and cunnilingus. I’d always hear my girls talk about it, how they almost went crazy, how it was such a big deal. But it never cut it for me. The idea of giving one disgusted me, and I didn’t care much for receiving one either. Thankfully, all the men I’d been with before never tried it with me, until I met Deji.

We met at an event. He was one of the vendors, just like I was. He looked too calm for the kind of face he had; tall, dark-skinned, with a model-like handsomeness that felt unfair. I noticed him the moment I stepped into the hall, but I didn’t try to talk to him. I was busy capturing moments for my clients.

Later, I took a break to eat lunch. I didn’t even notice when he sat beside me because I was lost in my phone. Then we started talking.

As if the calm face wasn’t enough, he had a calm, cool voice too. Deji was… easy. We bonded quickly, gisting about everything and nothing, laughing like we’d known each other for longer than a few hours. Somewhere in that conversation, I learned we were staying at the same hotel.

That evening, I returned to my room exhausted but happy. I pulled off my dress and headed straight to the bathroom. After my shower, I changed into a spaghetti-strap top and very short shorts, no bra.

I decided to sort through the event pictures before ordering food when I heard a knock at the door.

It was Deji.

I was genuinely surprised.

“How did you find my room?” I asked, stepping aside to let him in.

“My room is right opposite yours,” he said easily. “I was going to get dinner and thought I’d ask if you wanted anything too.”

“Oh… yeah, definitely. I just want to finish sorting these pictures first,” I said, pointing at my laptop on the bed.

“In that case, let me get the food. What do you want?”

“Anything. Just get the same thing for both of us.”

When he left, concentrating became impossible. I liked his energy. And the thought of leaving the next day suddenly made me sad.

When he returned, I was done with the pictures. We ate on my bed, talking, laughing, vibing. Even after the food was gone, the conversation kept flowing. Somewhere along the way, I forgot what I was wearing, or maybe I remembered and just didn’t care.

He said something that made me laugh hard. Then there was a brief silence. Just two seconds.

He looked at me and said, quietly, “I like you already.”

I’d heard those words before, but his felt different. I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of my breathing.

I smiled, about to respond, when I felt his lips on mine.

It happened so fast I didn’t see it coming.

His lips were soft, unhurried, and confident. I melted into the kiss almost immediately. In that moment, professionalism, logic… everything else disappeared.

I kissed him back.

That was all the permission he needed.

He pulled me closer, his eyes searching mine before he gently slipped one strap off my shoulder. My skin met air, and my breath caught. He looked at me like I was something he wanted to take his time with.

When his mouth found my chest, I forgot how to think.

Then he paused and asked, “Can I go down on you?”

I was still trying to recover from how he’d made me feel with just his mouth and hands. I nodded, barely processing the question, and shifted instinctively.

What followed rewrote everything I thought I knew.

It was intense. Slow and deliberate. Overwhelming in the best way. My body responded in ways it never had before, sounds escaping me before I could stop them. I clutched the bedsheet for balance, my fingers digging into his skin, holding on like I needed the anchor.

When I came, I was breathless, undone, and completely unprepared. It was my first time, and it took me by surprise in the most powerful way.

After that, everything flowed naturally. Nothing forced. Nothing rushed. Just two people completely present with each other.

Later, we lay tangled on the bed, bodies warm, breaths slowly evening out. He pulled me into him, and we fit together effortlessly, spooned as if it were instinct.

He leaned in and whispered, “You’re beautiful. And sweet.”

In my head, I laughed softly.

All that time, I’d been so sure of what I didn’t like. So confident in my boundaries. And maybe I wasn’t wrong, maybe I had just never met the right person.

As I closed my eyes, still wrapped in his arms, one thought stayed with me: Some experiences aren’t bad. They’re just waiting for the right moment.

And the right person.

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