I left Bim this morning.
Got up at 4.30 am to get my plane. I got in earlier than I expected, Sweet Thing and I had made arrangements for him to collect me when he dropped me off on Friday.
I had also sent him a cute little e-card: ‘There’s nothing worse than being in hug position with no one to hug.”
I liked that one because he has said that he had had so little of that in his life; and I just want to give him so many hugs. When we’re holding each other it’s like a total hug not those bullshit quick things that people give each other. We’ve always held each other… isn’t that weird? Anyway, I told him I was very good at hugs and all people who get ’em tell me so, he should exploit me.
After I got in I called him, he was sorta up, but he came and got me. He was you know rough but I like that…. I was dressed head to toe in red, planning to go straight to work.
It was a public holiday and I had two pages to send. They were already in the system, labelled. Anybody could search the system and find them all I had to do was physically hand over some pages, just ready to go. He asked if he could come and hang out at my house. I told him sure, he could wait there for me for an hour or so while I sent the pages, but he didn’t feel comfortable waiting there without me.
I had to think for a minute…. oh dear. More time with him, or go do this silly official thing on a PUBLIC HOLIDAY on a day no one knew if I was in the country or not. Hmmmmm…….
We went and got breakfast.
I kissed him while we were waiting for our food, he kind of made a little off hand comment about engaging in acts of public affection. My comeback: I don’t care, I’m a bit of a wild thing. That got a strange, inscrutable look.
So we went back to the house… and we spent the next few hours making love. I could get used to this kind of satisfaction. Being assured of an orgasm is a heady thing… becoming an addictive thing. A scary thing.
I sucked his cock. It’s a perfect shape and I really liked experimenting with my tongue piercing. I love the way it tastes and I just wanted to get very good and figuring out what he liked, where and how because I love the way it feels in my mouth. He makes these little noises that make me wet and achy somewhere in the pit of my stomach and I understand why making love to two men could really satisfy you in a physical way, because I wish I could have him inside me in both places at the same time.
I couldn’t stand it after a while and I did something we had never done before, I got on top of him and slid him inside of me. I have never seen him react like that before. He writhed under me as I clenched my vaginal muscles around his cock, and made the sweetest faces Hmmm, and the auditory enhancement. I moved over him and fascinated I gave him what he wanted and like a voyeur I watched him this time. It was like seeing him this way, open and vulnerable under me, I saw him releasing something for the first time.
Funny, I didn’t come that way, but after he came inside of me, clutching me and crying out. I sat there my mind racing. I’m in love with him. I’m in love with him. And I knew it was the truth. I just couldn’t lie about how I felt or pretend I was going to just not give in to it, that was it. That’s the truth of how I felt. My body was thrumming and the blood roared through me and I felt my fear rise up… almost choking me.
I swallowed. My throat was almost dry. I’m impulsive and I blurted it out.
“I think I am falling in love with you…”
He just cringed.
Then we talked about him coming inside me and the possibility of me getting pregnant. I kind of told him I didn’t think so, but you know I’d be diligent and let him know.
We talked seriously about other things — I am sorry to say I do not remember all the details.
We got into a very giggly happy space and left my confession, moist and damp there on the temple floor, unacknowledged, ignored. I am glad I could play it off so easily then, without turning it into a scene. Should I have forced him to acknowledge me? Force me to tell me right there and then where we stand? No, I did none of those things. I shrugged it off and I laughed and joked with him about other, suddenly meaningless shit I didn’t even bother to file away sufficiently to make this report.
To add to it all, he sang for me. Sat on my bed and sang a song he’d been working with a friend. I love his voice, he has some wonderful tonal qualities. I like it. Like too many things about him.
I hate this and I know it’s love because I think I kinda hate him too…. just not in an evil way you know? He makes me angry! How could he be so selfish?
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