Sunday

I haven’t seen him in around six weeks which for me may as well be six years. It’s a date of sorts because I am nervous and have been agonising over it all day. I’m even worrying what to wear which is ridiculous given he will probably rock up looking like he’s just fixed a car. Which he probably has.

I don’t really want to sleep with anyone else anymore, that’s how bad it’s got. We’ve talked about a lot of kinks but we’ve done very little together so far. Maybe he’s bread-crumbing me, maybe it’s legit. Maybe I will never know.

He’s driving over but we’re meeting at a venue near to mine, for the second time ever we are going to see some comedy. I get there first, grab some drinks and find a good seat. And then he is there, larger than life.

He compliments me on everything, and babbles on in his own inimitable way. I’d love to conduct a scientific study into why the fuck I fell for this guy and what it says about me, but for now I tell myself to stop overthinking. I’m with him in public and it feels delicious. I’m proud to be seen with a man, no, I’m proud to be seen with him. His beaming face, his gregarious nature. He makes me happy and I want to be with him. Is that love? Does it matter what it is?

We watch the two acts and we both laugh a lot. Towards the end our legs touch and I think he pulls away but then doesn’t. I’m just delighted to be anywhere near him. At one point he squeezes my cheeks and kisses me on the mouth. Mmm.

The evening ends and we both head for the exit, but he wants to take a little walk to look at the river. On the way he tells me he’s just going to drop me back and no funny business. The bottom drops out of my world and I can’t hide it. I’m keen and impatient to get back to mine and I wasn’t expecting this letdown.

He realises how disappointed I am. I direct him back to my house. It’s the first time in two years he’s been over, and sort of cements something.

I give him a little tour and for the second time he offers to help with some minor odd jobs. I laugh and tell him he doesn’t need to. Up in my bedroom he grabs my breasts from behind and then there we are.

He tells me to lie face down on the bed and watches as I swing my legs with the heels still on. I undo the crotch of my body, he pulls my knickers down and quick as a flash his tongue is between my legs.

This is a far cry from what he’s just told me and I’m struggling to catch up. His fingers caress my clit and I pull off my bra. Somehow he’s already naked and I admire his chest and arms. He asks me what I want and all I can manage to say is “fingers” so he thrusts one inside me. I moan and rise up to get purchase, propping myself up with a pillow under my ass. He asks if I want his cock and I giggle.

He knows I always do, even though penetration isn’t his thing. But to feel his cock inside me is all I need. He pulls out very quickly, going down on me again and then repeating.

I know already I’m not going to come. His about face has confused me but I’m enjoying his attention on me and I feel sexy. But I’ve been really greedy and wanked alone earlier with my vibe. I don’t tell him that.

Next he is furiously wanking – reader he won’t even let me touch his beautiful solid dick because he is in the zone. He kneels over me and again I lust over his chest, arms and thighs towering over me.

He can’t come either. He gets me to play with myself – something I don’t really enjoy but want to turn him on. I’m still wearing the heels. I grab my breast with my other hand and he catches on, doing the same when I let go.

It’s a hot night and we both stop to catch our breath. We are both sweating and I can smell his smell on me. He asks if he can have a shower. But soon realises my handheld one isn’t going to work for him.

He says he has to get home. Clothes go on. I see him out of the door. And again, the little time I have with him is not enough.

One thought on “Sunday”

  1. Pingback: Carousel ⦿ 2

Comments are closed.