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"I want to fuck you to oblivion"
Feb. 20th, 2012 12:31 amWeekend of exhausted sexual glory with my Oglaf boy
New insights:
-we seem to have similar food/sleep/fucking rhythms. Crowning joy was a mutual nap Saturday afternoon, post lunch - to bed at 13.30, awake again after 17.00. Curled up against each other, drifting off together.
-D has proclaimed "I'm not ashamed to say that this is the best sex I have ever had in my life". He's one of my best, for sure, but this also make me worry for his fiancee.
-He's discovered, which I didn't know either, that jamming one or more fingers in my ass while he's fucking me with his cock the size of my wrist (so astonishingly beautiful, this boy) that I come, pretty much instantaneously. That I flood him, despite his size. That I lose all my studied control of my volume, and mewl and whimper and growl. And that if he keeps it up, I'll come over an extended period of time.
This is a massive turnon for both of us; he gets off on feeling like he's fucking me in both holes (and the way I pull him in) - I get off on pure sensation, including a very thin edge of pain due to his size. At this rate, he will be spoiling me for sex with anyone else, ever...but I just don't want him to stop.
-I've worked out that one of the things I find really really attractive about him is a core of intensely understated self-confidence. He doesn't really ever reference it, but it's there. He has one past tense story of a career choice failing, and a lot of past tense stories of his body failing him (he has a chronic illness), but right now, things are going really really well for him.
-The boy makes me happy. I love his self-entertaining take on life, his efforts to interest me in Eve, to share things with me he thinks I'll like. (Japanese binocular football? Pandemic 2? Yes.) And I love how turned on he is by me, how beautiful he tells me he finds me, how fucking hot.
-We didn't count this weekend. It wasn't going to be necessary or pretty...after we reached 4 (or was it 5?) the first night, after I picked him up from the trainstation at 19.00
-As described to a friend tonight, "Oh, I wore this coat to go out with D. I love this coat (which I don't wear very often); it makes me feel like a rock star. Actually, D makes me feel like a rockstar."
-Yuppie breakfast together on Saturday. So so wonderfully domestic; I've missed this pace of life, the joy of fresh bagels together with your lover on the weekend.
-Comedy show on Saturday night, where we made out nonstop, and got a photo of us flashed on the main screen at some point.
-I like walking through this city hand in hand with him. I like checking him out on the bus; this most gorgeous man who's going to come home with me.
-Next up: seeing him soon. More quiet contentment, horrendously awful jokes, and a boy who brings out the darkest humor I can muster, and raises me one. And sex that leaves me incoherent jelly, exhausted but smiling furiously, the sheets ruined. (Sleeping on them still tonight as a trophy.)
New insights:
-we seem to have similar food/sleep/fucking rhythms. Crowning joy was a mutual nap Saturday afternoon, post lunch - to bed at 13.30, awake again after 17.00. Curled up against each other, drifting off together.
-D has proclaimed "I'm not ashamed to say that this is the best sex I have ever had in my life". He's one of my best, for sure, but this also make me worry for his fiancee.
-He's discovered, which I didn't know either, that jamming one or more fingers in my ass while he's fucking me with his cock the size of my wrist (so astonishingly beautiful, this boy) that I come, pretty much instantaneously. That I flood him, despite his size. That I lose all my studied control of my volume, and mewl and whimper and growl. And that if he keeps it up, I'll come over an extended period of time.
This is a massive turnon for both of us; he gets off on feeling like he's fucking me in both holes (and the way I pull him in) - I get off on pure sensation, including a very thin edge of pain due to his size. At this rate, he will be spoiling me for sex with anyone else, ever...but I just don't want him to stop.
-I've worked out that one of the things I find really really attractive about him is a core of intensely understated self-confidence. He doesn't really ever reference it, but it's there. He has one past tense story of a career choice failing, and a lot of past tense stories of his body failing him (he has a chronic illness), but right now, things are going really really well for him.
-The boy makes me happy. I love his self-entertaining take on life, his efforts to interest me in Eve, to share things with me he thinks I'll like. (Japanese binocular football? Pandemic 2? Yes.) And I love how turned on he is by me, how beautiful he tells me he finds me, how fucking hot.
-We didn't count this weekend. It wasn't going to be necessary or pretty...after we reached 4 (or was it 5?) the first night, after I picked him up from the trainstation at 19.00
-As described to a friend tonight, "Oh, I wore this coat to go out with D. I love this coat (which I don't wear very often); it makes me feel like a rock star. Actually, D makes me feel like a rockstar."
-Yuppie breakfast together on Saturday. So so wonderfully domestic; I've missed this pace of life, the joy of fresh bagels together with your lover on the weekend.
-Comedy show on Saturday night, where we made out nonstop, and got a photo of us flashed on the main screen at some point.
-I like walking through this city hand in hand with him. I like checking him out on the bus; this most gorgeous man who's going to come home with me.
-Next up: seeing him soon. More quiet contentment, horrendously awful jokes, and a boy who brings out the darkest humor I can muster, and raises me one. And sex that leaves me incoherent jelly, exhausted but smiling furiously, the sheets ruined. (Sleeping on them still tonight as a trophy.)
