I read something today that made me feel quite guilty for just upping and leaving the blogosphere, the same place where even though you know my face and the bit you do see is covered somehow we connected you and I.
I hate that I have allowed life to get to me so badly that it's taken away from such a great story and dimmed the all consuming glow this love incites in me. For that I apologise profusely and beg that you find it in your heart to forgive me.
When we left off, the love had been confirmed as mutual and it was all systems go...well sort of....The man returned and we broke with the tradition of bonking each other's brains out at first opportunity and went to have a civilised meal where we just gazed into each others faces and drowned in one another's eyes. I love this man and this man loves me. Despite everything we had been through with each other, he saw all my faults, failings and stretch marked abdomen and loved me anyway.
He saw me at the level I saw myself which made it easier for me to accept him into my space (*Ts &Cs apply). We talkd forever and I had my feet nestled on the warm hard bulge on his lap as he stroked and massaged them under the table. I had eaten my fill and now needed to fill other...
ehermm...
yeah...the kittykat.
So as we sat in the lull of an almost empty lounge with our fingertips touching lightly and breathy responses emanated in starts and stops from areas other than my mouth I could feel his energy. I could feel him moving in me without any erotic move made, no suggestion of rough,animal push me to the wall coitus -nada!
I was yearning for Nemesis so badly. I was afraid standing up and trying to maintain balance would give me away as I squeezed my thighs together trying to waddle and clench my way to the ladie's room for a quick stroke. He was no better because he was literally giving the table a fifth and unnecessary leg.
Both of us were in deep physical pain from being in a place so public, trying to act like there hadnt been an ocean between us a day before. He made a play at some excessive yawning and untucked his shirt to try and hide his indignity...it seemed to work, he made it to the loo ok. Crisis arose while he was trying to aim at the urinal and almost sprayed his bladder on the ceiling. Tisk tisk -Cocky bastard sends me a message from the bathroom saying I was in for it tonight,never has he had to almost sleep on the urinal trying to direct things the right way, what was I doing to him. I just laughed and said he was only permitted to give himself one shake... anything more than that would be considered masturbation and I wasn't about to accept a watered down performance that night due to him partially emptying the tank. To that he retorted that I had been in the loo for a good 8 minutes earlier how did he know I wasn't reducing my tensions as he sat waiting for me.
Ok ok fine I had been caught out but had I not done that the diners staff and management could have had themselves an eye and earful after I carefully strung napkins together, tied him to the tablelegs, jumped on top of him and fed my hunger the way I really needed to. I would have probably landed both of us in jail as well. Exactly 6mins and 34 seconds after heading to the loo he came out breathing hard and looking like a hot and feverish rabid canine he hurriedly paid the bill and probably tipped more than the total cost of the bill as he grabbed my elbow and literally pushed my goosebumped body out of that place:
we ran, squealed and giggled like teenagers getting to his car..first it was his hand on my thigh aaandd it slid down...deeper...deeper as he sped home I sssped to heaven with his shaft firmly gripped in my hand...needless to say, that poor car saw things
