I had spent the night drifting in and out of sleep. I kept opening my eyes and looking around the room so I did not go into a deep sleep and forget where I was but there was also a pleasant comfortable feeling in looking around knowing exactly where I was. In keeping with our camping plans that had gotten canceled PC made me a blanket fort in his living room where we put a mattress on the floor in front of the fireplace; and that is where we slept.
I had been rather insistent he not go out of his way to clean or do anything for my visit – he has already impressed me – but this was the first time I had been to his house. I felt I was intruding on his privacy and putting him out so I was really trying to make it easier on myself as well. There were a thousand kisses before and while he prepared dinner over a fire outside. I do not normally feel rushed when he visits me but there is the reality of time (before my husband comes home) so I was definitely enjoying the fact we had an uninterrupted night together.
Then he went evil boyfriend on me – more like enabling – because I know myself so well I had done a fine job keeping this particular daemon at bay. “You know once I start, I might not stop” I told him honestly “this could lead to massive interruptions in my daily life not to mention sex. I might not shower for weeks at a time; dates might be canceled, only eating pureed food from a straw!” I am not sure if he believed me or not, his devilish grin issued me a challenge (something that could possibly distract you from me?!) but certainly I could have said no. I just didn’t want to say no. I think it was obvious as my eyes bulged with anticipation and I twisted my hands together nervously that I was physically fighting the urge and losing: he handed me the xbox controller and I got down on my knees and began my attempt at killing stuff.
He then brewed a concoction in a pot and I willingly drank it. I am aware of alcoholic influences and what happens to me when I ‘mix’ (red wine then Schnapps) but I am not entirely sure it was just cider and Hot Damn Schnapps he gave me. Whatever it was, by the fire outside in the middle of the night, I talked for a bibles age about things I do not talk about. I have no idea how it came about, I have no idea why I said the things I said but I clearly recall many failed attempts as misdirection: though I would ask him direct questions about himself I inevitably kept talking about myself. By the grace of God I am not a sappy drunk that cries or gets angry, that would require someone have lots of feelings and be out of control. Instead I continued to be matter of fact about private things, though my speech was a bit slurred and we puffed away on cigars.
Once inside, after the verbal diary that is the 101 Pyx introductory course to my childhood, we put ourselves in front of the fireplace, on the mattress, and I brought out the Risk board game. We are both highly competitive and sexual so naturally we try to mix the two together: strip Risk seems to have the potential for everyone to come out a winner! Maybe subconsciously I was feeling a bit vulnerable after the conversation by the fire but I was focused on winning this game and not on the whole making love by the fire thing. PC however came up with some lame excuse that the board no longer had arrows on it and would require we read the directions.
I was staring at the game pieces when I felt him lie on top of me; a warm comforting feeling of being enveloped in safety and affection and I rather enjoyed it. His hands slowly began peeling away my underpants and his breath, coupled with soft kisses, on my bottom. Of course I protested that he was cheating, basically tossing the board and that I should win by default. I reminded him that I also had two decks of cards with me – I could easily beat him at something else- but it was to no avail. As soon as he ground his hard cock into my backside I realized that I am never going to win. Certainly there are worse defeats.
. He was very sweet, methodical as always and it felt good to have him inside me again. Many orgasms later, some voluntary and some requested and forced, he fell asleep. Perhaps because these were not my usual surroundings and whatever was in that drink, I did not get up from the bed; my usual routine is to get up and putter around. Instead I stayed very still watching the fire burn and enjoying the feeling of his breath on the back of my neck and his arm resting over mine.
In and out of consciousness I was rather proud of myself for giving in and loving his talent for cuddling/snuggling or whatever you call it; I had to giggle when he had me in a headlock but thoroughly enjoyed it when he would simply reach out, find me there and grab hold of me and press himself in closer.
I woke up smiling to soft kisses on my shoulder and that lead to sex first thing in the morning. I handed him the bottle of lube, honestly trying to be helpful because after a night of drinking and sex in front of a fire things might feel or be a bit dehydrated. I changed my position to relieve his knees and then the next thing you know I was cursing and seeing bright colours flash behind my closed eye lids – I have not had anal sex since February – it all felt fantastic.
I was on all fours, my nails digging into the carpet and at the same time pleased he did not ask but instead just pushed his way in. the orgasm was different and more intense and I could not stop cumming. He laid himself back on the mattress and I was delighted to assist in his orgasm, it really is such a wonderful sight. I could spend hours impaling myself on his cock but I could also spend an equal amount of time just watching it.
We had coffee outside in the sun and I felt the sting of the previous night’s talk by the fire. It was not that I had consumed so much drink that I forgot what I said, it was that he was talking about it again with me. I felt the urge to justify or explain myself but more importantly I did not want him to think I was complaining nor did want him feeling bad for me; I was embarrassed but he was very good at handling me in such a state.
And given the change in plans and the new ones he made, he managed to do something that I thought was extra sweet. He went out and purchased a second controller for his xbox so that I could shoot him – I killed him the first three times when he had not calibrated his controller but it went downhill from there and he killed me 26 times. However he did not go easy on me and let me win and I like that about him. It might have been his way of saying ‘I know you are uncomfortable talking about feelings, but I appreciate that you did. Here go ahead and shoot me in the balls’
He was not patronizing when I asked girl brain video game questions, he patiently explained that we were now on the same team and I should stop shooting at him. He didn’t get frustrated with me when I refused to use the gun Tourette because it was on top of that thing and I would just rather have my guy walk over to the other thing… and for the next five and a half hours we sat and played xbox.