If anyone asks, I will deny it.
The beauty of life is perhaps its unpredictability.
I was determined to dedicate this weekend to do absolutely nothing so I could recover from a very exhausting week.
I sort of had it my way, if "nothing" means letting my mind and body go, and reach an orgasm cloud that I've never been before.
That was not my original plan though. Nothing with him seems to go according to my plan. But if this was a bad thing, I should only have myself to blame. Somewhere between him suggesting that we should break more rules this weekend and me saying no to him inviting himself over, I said, "but, if you're up for doing nothing this Sunday, you're welcome to join me." He was up for it.
Sunday afternoon, we met up in the city. It was the strangest feeling--I was happy and eager to see him, but at the same time, something in me says I should run as far away as I could.
I didn't run away. Instead, we spent a few hours just lying under the sun in the windy Alamo Square, doing nothing. I nearly fell asleep, if not for the cold wind that kept on finding its way up under my shirt.
It finally came to a time when the sun began to disappear, and the dropping temperature became unbearable. We returned to his place, and surprise, surprise, we ended up in his bed, cuddling and kissing.
My white tee and jeans were surrendered on the floor again as our blood began to boil. Our skins too hot to touch, he had me pinned under him and gently showered my half naked body with his kisses. His strong hands lifted my body to draw me closer but caressed me tenderly. With my body arched back, I moaned quietly every time his warm lips came in contact with my neck, my chest, my stomach... But the alarm went off when I realized he was still going further, kissing and stroking my inner thighs provocatively. I knew where this was going, and I'm not ready for it.
I protested. I tried to push him away and escape from under him. "It's ok, just relax," he whispered as he held my struggling hands down and pressed his body against me to stop me from struggling. My resistance was futile. This was an unfair match between a 185cm, 185lbs man and a 160cm, 103lbs woman, and I was clearly losing.
I felt embarrassed, almost shameful. At this moment my legs were spread wide, and my deepest secret exposed. I could feel his tongue gliding over my soft flesh, pressing against my sensitive spot, just enough to make my body shiver in excitement. I needed him to stop. I could feel my primal instinct awakening, and I didn't want to confront the wildness in my blood, the hunger for more.
He continued, going over every inch of my secret garden as if there was something to be found. I could hear myself breathing heavier as his tongue intensified the search. The excitement heightens. In my mind I begged him to stop but my body couldn't lie. Just when I thought I could come to my senses, it seemed like he finally found what he was looking for. He skillfully unlocked my inner lips and slipped the tongue inside to explore deeper... I think I almost fainted. It felt so different... but so good, that I just lost it.
When I finally was able to collect myself, he already came back up and was smiling at me. Still feeling the flood between my legs, I kissed the wetness off his lips as he invaded my body with his. The raving pleasure continued.
2 or 3 condoms later, we lied in bed, both exhausted but still had our humor. We laughed when about becoming sex addicts now that we've experienced the highs; we laughed again when we discussed the impossibility of out-doing ourselves; we laughed even more as he moaned about the soreness in his legs and limped away to the bathroom. After all the clean-ups were done, there was more laughter when he insisted that I should wear something that allows me to be "as comfortable as he is" and offered me a pair of his pretty large PJ pants. I looked ridiculous, especially when we decided to put the Giants cap on me to complete the what's supposed to be the gangsta look. We went upstairs and talked. We even shared a non-sex-related intimate conversation (the proper term for this, as he calls it, is "soul purging"). And then he looked at me, with his serious face, he said, "you can talk to me about these things anytime." I didn't know how I was able to let my guard down and talk to him about those things, I just responded, "if I can tell you these things and laugh about it, that must mean I'm getting better."
This was our second time together, first time having oral sex. This was also the day we held hands for the first time, in public.
The beauty of life is perhaps its unpredictability.
I was determined to dedicate this weekend to do absolutely nothing so I could recover from a very exhausting week.
I sort of had it my way, if "nothing" means letting my mind and body go, and reach an orgasm cloud that I've never been before.
That was not my original plan though. Nothing with him seems to go according to my plan. But if this was a bad thing, I should only have myself to blame. Somewhere between him suggesting that we should break more rules this weekend and me saying no to him inviting himself over, I said, "but, if you're up for doing nothing this Sunday, you're welcome to join me." He was up for it.
Sunday afternoon, we met up in the city. It was the strangest feeling--I was happy and eager to see him, but at the same time, something in me says I should run as far away as I could.
I didn't run away. Instead, we spent a few hours just lying under the sun in the windy Alamo Square, doing nothing. I nearly fell asleep, if not for the cold wind that kept on finding its way up under my shirt.
It finally came to a time when the sun began to disappear, and the dropping temperature became unbearable. We returned to his place, and surprise, surprise, we ended up in his bed, cuddling and kissing.
My white tee and jeans were surrendered on the floor again as our blood began to boil. Our skins too hot to touch, he had me pinned under him and gently showered my half naked body with his kisses. His strong hands lifted my body to draw me closer but caressed me tenderly. With my body arched back, I moaned quietly every time his warm lips came in contact with my neck, my chest, my stomach... But the alarm went off when I realized he was still going further, kissing and stroking my inner thighs provocatively. I knew where this was going, and I'm not ready for it.
I protested. I tried to push him away and escape from under him. "It's ok, just relax," he whispered as he held my struggling hands down and pressed his body against me to stop me from struggling. My resistance was futile. This was an unfair match between a 185cm, 185lbs man and a 160cm, 103lbs woman, and I was clearly losing.
I felt embarrassed, almost shameful. At this moment my legs were spread wide, and my deepest secret exposed. I could feel his tongue gliding over my soft flesh, pressing against my sensitive spot, just enough to make my body shiver in excitement. I needed him to stop. I could feel my primal instinct awakening, and I didn't want to confront the wildness in my blood, the hunger for more.
He continued, going over every inch of my secret garden as if there was something to be found. I could hear myself breathing heavier as his tongue intensified the search. The excitement heightens. In my mind I begged him to stop but my body couldn't lie. Just when I thought I could come to my senses, it seemed like he finally found what he was looking for. He skillfully unlocked my inner lips and slipped the tongue inside to explore deeper... I think I almost fainted. It felt so different... but so good, that I just lost it.
When I finally was able to collect myself, he already came back up and was smiling at me. Still feeling the flood between my legs, I kissed the wetness off his lips as he invaded my body with his. The raving pleasure continued.
2 or 3 condoms later, we lied in bed, both exhausted but still had our humor. We laughed when about becoming sex addicts now that we've experienced the highs; we laughed again when we discussed the impossibility of out-doing ourselves; we laughed even more as he moaned about the soreness in his legs and limped away to the bathroom. After all the clean-ups were done, there was more laughter when he insisted that I should wear something that allows me to be "as comfortable as he is" and offered me a pair of his pretty large PJ pants. I looked ridiculous, especially when we decided to put the Giants cap on me to complete the what's supposed to be the gangsta look. We went upstairs and talked. We even shared a non-sex-related intimate conversation (the proper term for this, as he calls it, is "soul purging"). And then he looked at me, with his serious face, he said, "you can talk to me about these things anytime." I didn't know how I was able to let my guard down and talk to him about those things, I just responded, "if I can tell you these things and laugh about it, that must mean I'm getting better."
This was our second time together, first time having oral sex. This was also the day we held hands for the first time, in public.
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