Actually, I hate that song and pretty much hate its message, but it was the first title that came to mind. And I can't be with one of the ones I love, but that doesn't mean I'm substituting. Even if I could be with all the people I love, at once, I might still want to love a few other people.
Anyway, spent all of yesterday morning in a funk. For whatever reason, there is a song that, whenever I hear it or think about it, I cry, and so I spent all morning humming it and crying for no particular reason. Got out the guitar and played the song and teared up. Listened to the song and teared up. A fun time was had by all. Since I had fuck all else to do, there wasn't really anything to pull me from the funk. I guess I should have made my fuck the P-Funk. No, that's not the song.
Then I got a call from Perry asking if I was free in the evening. We'd been trying to hook up for a while, and he was finally able to get together. I would have been perfectly happy to just head over to his place, but he wanted to take me out for drinks. Why not? I like free booze.
I called Sveta to tell her what I was doing because I felt it was proper. She was jealous, not of him, of me. "Why do you get all the cock?" was essentially what we're talking about here. She told me to enjoy myself, then had to get to class. What I really wanted to do was climb through the phone lines and make love with her right there, but until they figure out a way to do that, I'm stuck here.
I have mentioned before that I'm not into the bar scene at all, so it was good that he wanted to go to someplace that was pretty swanky, no loud music, no boisterous drunks, no sports on TVs, that kind of thing. It was too cold to wear what I wanted, so I had to go with a longer skirt and a sweater, but I didn't wear any underwear. Always be prepared, that's not my motto.
The place was nice, very expensive, and in the interests of not bankrupting him, I only got one drink. It was not a "hey, let's get blitzed" kind of evening in any case. He asked after Sveta, wondered when he might get to see her again, I made polite nothings.
Then we got to talking more seriously, which was not what I wanted to do. I guess he wants to date, properly date, do that whole thing, with an eye to some kind of commitment. The brakes squealed, tires smoked, passengers were thrown through windshields. I am not looking to date him. I already have a steady, plus family, plus I like things on the side, and I don't like him that much. I mean, he's good company, decent in the sack. His oral makes up for his only moderate abilities in other departments, and while I can occasionally get into feeling like I'm being molested by my teacher, I think he wants that all the time, which is a one-trick pony I'm not too keen to ride. Basically, I'm not interested in dating anyone, let alone him.
Now I was pretty sure sex was off, we would both get up and go our separate ways and that would be that. I didn't want to burn any bridges, but I wasn't about to lead him on. So we had that conversation, which I won't bore anyone with. Undoubtedly you've heard it all before. To my credit, I didn't give him any, "It's not you, it's me," bullshit, just basically said I was perfectly happy to hook up, but not looking for anything else from anyone. At a certain point, he got the point that I was essentially pledged to Sveta (the other stuff he doesn't need to know about) and while she and I were fine with outside interests, I wasn't dating anyone else.
About that time I figured I should finish my drink and prepare to leave, so I did that, and he said, "No, wait, don't leave, I'm sorry, I didn't understand how things were." And to his credit, he said it was fine, he understood, and he was okay with that too. Whether he really is or not remains to be seen. I guess if he starts stalking me or something, we'll know. But we switched topics to something else, he ordered me another drink without asking, and if that part of the evening wasn't forgotten, it was at least buried deep.
We were sitting across from one another, and I was getting flirty and horny, so I knocked something off the table and asked him in my best poor widdle me act to pick it up for me, then when he went under the table, I opened my legs. If it had been a romantic comedy, there would have been a bump as his head shot up into the table top, but instead he just popped up again and said, "I think we should go." Damn skippy, what made you think that, Einstein?
I kind of wish it had been the type of bar where we could have just sat there, side by side, and he could have felt me up under the table, but it wasn't that type of place. So we walked back to his place, his arm around my waist because it was getting chilly (never mind that I like the cold and was just fine, I let him think he was a big strong man because hey, I was feeling hot for teacher). Once we were through the door, jackets were tossed to the ground and both of us sprinted up stairs. I pulled my sweater and blouse over my head at once, and he pulled off his shirt, and hot, urgent mammary manipulation was the order of the day. Neither of us were beyond tipsy, we were just really hungry. I have a hickey above my left breast, the fucker. I'm not into hickeys, but I didn't say boo at the time.
I had slipped my hands into his pants, got them off while he was still pawing at my tits, and then stroking his raging hardon until he had to break away and beg me to stop or he was going to cum. I just got on my knees and swallowed. Then it was up on the bed, skirt off, legs spread, and his amazing tongue was driving me wild. Waves of orgasms until my knees were weak, until I was crying out every time he flicked my clit with the tip of his tongue.
While I was still panting, he pulled on a condom, got between my legs, and pressed in. I was in full-on submissive mode (not in the classical sense, just in the sense that I was basically letting him do whatever he wanted) and gasping for air, then he pressed in and collapsed onto me, and I knew he had cum.
We lay there, body to body for a while, then he got up, pulled off the condom and chucked it (so wasteful, but whatever) and then got up and went to the bathroom. Again, not prime candidate for great fuck, except for his amazing oral skills.
When he came back, I was still lying there enjoying it, and he stood there looking down at me and stroking his cock without thinking. I asked him if he wanted some more anal, and he asked me if I wanted a few more orgasms. So we settled on both. He ate me out again, just as enjoyably as the first time, and then he pulled on a condom and fucked my ass until I was so close to cumming it's not even funny, then just as I was about to slip over the edge, he stopped and pumped his load into the rubber. I was desperate, so I reached back and went crazy on myself until I finally came, not the nice big O I was hoping for with his cock in my ass. And frankly, it just stoked the fires.
But that was it. He was done. He offered to let me spend the night, and I almost accepted, but I wanted to get some sleep and not be tossing and turning in a foreign bed. Plus the whole not wanting to lead him on thing. I thanked him, begged off, got on my clothes, and walked home, hoping against hope that Dad might still be up and give me what I really needed.
No dice. But I called Sveta, and we agreed that maybe we should lay off Perry for a while, just in case. Still, the temptation is extreme. He's already emailed me asking when we can meet up again. He's trying to wear me down, I think. Convince me by familiarity. I really didn't picture this the last time. It seemed like he wasn't at all interested in commitment. Ah well. There are other fish in the sea, probably even some who have tongues which make me feel the way his does.
And now I'm back to moping and humming songs that make me cry. Yeah, I've got to see the doc about the hormones. I'm too young to be having menopause.
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