He calls me three times before we meet the first time – twice on the designated day. It’s sweet and a novelty but also freaks me out a bit. It’s just not the done thing for a hook-up is it?
I’m walking to the pub and he calls me again, asking where I am. We meet outside and he embraces me like an old friend – a proper body hug for longer than I’m used to even with a friend. And you know me. I’m intimacy-averse yet perfectly happy to open my legs or my lips for a strangers cock.
We chat and he’s charming but I’m worried I don’t fancy him enough for it to happen. I can’t read him- I have no idea if he wants me.
I wish this bit was easier. Is it easier if you are looking for a relationship? Is it ever easy?
The camera cuts to later – I have fixed him a drink and we are both on my sofa. I decide I really like his voice : the way he speaks, the words he uses and his accent. He is intelligent and seems genuinely interested in me. He asks good questions. Jesus, this is beginning to sound like an interview.
His “move” is to put his legs across mine – which is a weird one. Maybe I was supposed to do that.
We then hit fast forward as the reader you’re asking yourself where’s the fucking sex?
We go up. We undress. He’s an under the covers guy. His frame is tiny. His lips and fingers are soon lapping my cunt and I am climbing on top of him. I’m too self conscious though… But it’s good.
He pushes the tip of his cock in and out of my pussy. That sir, always drives me wild. I have to tell him to use a condom.
I come at some point, it isn’t a struggle. He comes over my tits, a wonderful warm gift I receive with thanks.
We’ve talked a lot about him staying, instead he leaves after checking his route home more than once. Annoyingly so – if he leaves now it will take an hour – in the morning much longer.
I sleep really well anyway.