Why don’t I want to write about him?
Why can’t I really talk about him?
Even when I do let myself think about him, it’s for brief moments, in small flashes, I never let myself go to deep.
Is it because I think he’s some fleeting image not meant to last?
Is it because I know it’ll never work out?
Is it because I know if I let myself think too hard about him, I’ll talk myself out of it?
Because the last thing I want to do is stop… The way I feel right now, I couldn’t if I tried.
Not when he’s always looking at me intensely with those bright eyes, a faint smile on his lips. And when I ask why, he simply says, “You’re so beautiful.”
Not when he wants to cook for me, open doors for me and massage me, just cause he can.
Not when he picks up a case of ginger beer for me, because he remembered that I mentioned I was craving it the other day.
Not when he has a rock hard body, perfect penis, beautiful face and an accent I could die for.
Not when he is the best sex of my life.
No. Fucking. Way.
I tried to convince myself I was in control and it was all under my terms, but this weekend I realized how hard I was falling and now I’m terrified of hitting the rock bottom.
When I think back, it started a couple weeks ago while I was scrolling through Instagram.
I came across a photo that made my heart race.
“Sunday hikes with this guy <3” her caption read. The photo hadn’t even finished loading, but I knew what it was and yet still, I waited. I subjected myself to the pain of seeing her and Dan standing in front of a big tree, smiling, arms wrapped tightly around one another.
I already knew, but this confirmed it; I didn’t expect it to sting so bad.
But it was this incident that gave me the extra incentive to message back the cute guy I’d met at the bar and ask him out. I wanted to move on, I wanted to meet a nice guy and experience some intimacy and I didn’t want to wait.
Apparently, this guy did not want the same things as his texts went from flirty to downright creepy. I told him to forget it, but I still really wanted to go on a date, I’d actually been looking forward to it. That’s when I decided to test the old ‘third time’s the charm’ theory and get back on Tinder. I’d struck out in Canada and New Zealand, but maybe Australia would be a different story.
I matched with my first local guy and he messaged me right away.
He was sweet and asked a lot of questions and made interesting banter other than the usual small talk. His pictures didn’t show much of his face, but he seemed pretty cute. He asked me if I’d ever skateboarded and when I said no he invited me to join him for a skate.
On my way to meet him, a guy cruised by on a skateboard while I was coming in on my bike. I looked him over and smiled and he smiled back. Could this be the guy? I wondered, hopeful. He passed without a word. Damn, too good to be true!
I locked up my bike and wandered down the parking lot and saw him walking back and we both started laughing at ourselves for missing each other. We walked down to the beach so he could stretch out. He was very talkative, kind of ADD, but I didn’t mind, it took the pressure off of me to talk. He treated me to ice cream and the two of us skated down the bike path and continued into another parking lot. We chatted, quoted stupid movies, laughed and had a sword fight with two sticks. I walked with him back to his car and we hugged goodbye.
“I’d really like to hangout again,” he said. “Can I add you on Facebook?”
“Sure, I can give you my number too,” I stated boldly. He was cute, sweet and I’d had a fun time. Besides, I was pretty sure he was hiding a banging body under his shirt and I was keen to find out for certain.
He mentioned he and his mates possibly going for beers and I suggested maybe Jill and I would meet them on the weekend.
The moment I got home, he messaged me saying how cool I was and how glad he was to have met me.
This is all too good to be true, what’s this guys angle?!
He messaged me again a couple days later asking if I wanted to check out a waterfall with he and his puppy. I happily agreed.
When I climbed into his ute, his ridiculously cute puppy climbed onto my lap and gently licked my face.
“This is Otis, I just rescued him two weeks ago.”
Are you kidding me? That’s fucking adorable.
We chatted intermittently on our walk down, mostly he talked, about anything and everything.
When we reached the waterfall I was dumbstruck. It was incredible, like something out a picture book. It was a little cool, but I didn’t care, we both dove into the perfect pool full of glowing lily pads and lined with deep cavernous rocks. I finally got to see his beautiful body and it did not disappoint.
He turned to me and said, “You’re really cool, and I don’t think I can just be your friend.”
“Oh yeah?” I replied nervously as I looked down and giggled and he swam away. I wanted nothing more for him to come back and kiss me.
We both said very little as we started walking back. An anxious Otis had burrowed into my strewn clothing and they were covered in mud. I could only laugh as he apologized profusely.
Back in the car he asked me if I’d ever been to a particular neighbouring town, when I shook my head no he asked if I wanted to check it out and grab a bite to eat. I was meant to meet Jill, but was getting the feeling she might bail, besides I was intrigued by this creature and wanted to see where the date would go.
Neither of us quite realized how far away it was and when Jill messaged me asking if we were still hanging out, I began stalling until she eventually decided she was too tired anyway. I felt like a bitch, but I didn’t care, I now had an unlimited time to spend with him.
We sat outside eating fish and chips and giggled while cuddling on the bench for warmth.
We started back and had been driving a while when he suddenly slowed and pulled over.
“This is really lame, but I just really want to kiss you. Would that be alright?”
“You shouldn’t ask, you should just do.”
“I’m not a great kisser,” he admitted.
“Shut up,” I grabbed his face and kiss him gently.
When we parted he said, “But I am good at this,” and began kissing down my neck.
We made out in his truck for a few minutes, our hands exploring each other’s bodies while Otis squirmed uncomfortably between us.
“I don’t think I can keep kissing you like this without wanting to do more, but I don’t want to rush you or make you uncomfortable.”
“I don’t feel rushed or uncomfortable,” I said, throwing him a wicked smile. What the fuck did I want to wait for?
“We can cruise by mine, feed the dog and see if the house is empty,” he suggested as he had just moved back and was living with his mom, but she was practically living with her boyfriend so he pretty much had the house to himself.
We stopped in another town so he could show me the river. We walked along it with Otis while we cuddled and flirted.
We got to his empty house and sat talking some more when he suddenly asked me what I liked in the bedroom.
“Umm, no one’s really asked me that before,” I stammered. “I’m pretty open to most things… What about you?”
He shrugged, “I’m easy.”
Shortly after, he looked at me hungrily and said, “Let’s go to the bedroom, I want to get you naked.”
We both stripped and kneeled face to face on the bed, our bodies barely touching as we kissed. By the time his hand began exploring between my legs he moaned, “God, you’re so fucking wet!” I was actually dripping for him. I didn’t even know my body was capable of such a feat.
He fucked me with his gorgeous cock for close to two hours and in every different way. He explained he had trouble finishing with a new partner, I had orgasmed twice so I didn’t care. We finally stopped for sustenance and stood naked in the kitchen nibbling chips and cookies. It was 2 am so I stayed the night, resting peacefully in his strong arms.
In the morning he made me breakfast and drove me to work. I felt myself growing grumpy as he fussed around with the dog before announcing he forgot we had to empty the tailgate first.
“I’m gonna be late!” I snapped. I tried to reign in my annoyance when he called a friend and offered to pick him up (thankfully, the friend declined.) It’s been hard, but I’m trying not to worry about time as much because here, people generally don’t and it’s rather refreshing. I did make it to work exactly on time by some divine miracle and gave him a quick kiss before running in. I tried not to give him too much thought, but whenever I pictured his naked body I could feel the wetness creeping in. He was great but I had some concerns. From what he told me and what I’d seen on Facebook, I’d pieced together that he had dated an Irish girl for over a year and even went overseas for her, but she dumped him saying it was pointless since she didn’t plan to return to Aus. He travelled alone for a while before returning. They’d only been broken up a couple months and were still in contact.
Saturday night rolled around and his friends had all ditched, but he still wanted to hang with me and Jill. Nervous, I made an excuse to blow him off, but after a few drinks, some gushing and Jill’s encouragement, I invited him to meet us at the brewery. We were wasted, he was tipsy and Jill was giving him the third degree. He danced with us, bought us beers and drove Jill and her bike home. I was so impressed and turned on, I had to have him.
Back at his place, I vaguely recalled making out with him on the floors of his garage (?!) and trying to have sex but failing miserably. I woke up never remembering falling asleep. I was meant to meet some friends for coffee in town but I was still drunk and despite his encouragement I was too terrified to take his standard ute. On top of it all, there was no way I was leaving this beautiful, naked creature without having some better sex. I messaged and politely ditched a much too understanding friend and climbed back into his arms.
By early afternoon our conversation had somehow led to me being bound to the headboard by my wrists while he thrusted deeply. We both had earth shattering orgasms and were enjoying the aftershocks when we heard his name being called from across the house… His mom… I rushed to dress while he called a greeting to her and hurried to close the bedroom door. We tried to sneak out the front door but I ended up meeting his mom, after not even a week of knowing him, with her sons fresh load leaking from my vagina. I could feel how red I was from my orgasm and my growing embarrassment. We rushed off for a canoe, but because I hadn’t planned to go home with him, I didn’t have a bathing suit or change of clothes. We canoed to a more private part of the lake then I put on his singlet and waded out into the tea tree infused lakes to rinse my body, while he climbed tall trees. The awkward nervousness reared its ugly head when he talked about his ex contacting him and chastised me for kissing him too much.
We grabbed a bite and went back to his house where I struggled to make a better second impression.
I felt sufficiently awkward and I’d hinted to Jill that I’d meet her at the beach, but he begged me to stay another night, but I was tired and embarrassed and wanted some space so finally he reluctantly drove me back.
Jill and I downed a bottle of wine on the beach then went to the brewery to watch her new Tinder friend perform with his band. That night is an entire story of its own but I ended up doing M and dancing with a ton of gorgeous men at the after party. The guy who was hosting the party was this beautiful Israeli with long chestnut curls. When we hugged goodbye he whispered, “Come back and see me again,” and it sounded like a threat and a promise and it made me tingle all over. That night I had an epiphany: I had to stay single this summer.
I was resolved to stick to my decision even though I was dreaming of being in his arms as I was coming down.
The next day, while creeping his Facebook I made a startling discovery: He had TWO KIDS and an EX-WIFE that he NEVER MENTIONED!!! I was mortified and hurt and angry, I wanted to confront him, but Kennedy talked me down and made me realize that it was probably a hard thing to discuss and he was probably worried he’d scare me off.
I wanted to ask him to slow things down, but I didn’t want him to think the two things were connected so I resolved to wait for him to tell me in his own time.
The next night at his house, while fussing around cooking spaghetti bolognese for me, I finally admitted that I liked spending time with but things were moving too quickly and I didn’t want a relationship.
“I don’t want a relationship either, especially not with a backpacker,” he promised. “But would you hook up with other guys?”
I assured him I wasn’t looking to, but if something were to happen I wouldn’t beat myself up over it.
“Just use protection I guess… I probably won’t hook up with anyone else, but if you want to…” he sounded hurt.
But after an incredible night together, he was singing a different tune as he drove and we further discussed it.
“I think I may like this sex-friend thing,” he said, smiling.
Despite my cries of protest, I still spent the entire day with him.
We saw a pod of grey whales, walked Otis on the beach and stopped for snacks. He begged me to stay another night, but I reiterated my need for space.
Determined to act single, I went out with Jill on Friday night. That is yet another story in its own, but we got wasted, picked up two guys and after getting kicked out of their hostel, sat on the beach smoking a joint. We snuck back in and began cuddling with our respective men. We started fooling around by my spins were so bad, I had to keep stopping. It was almost as if some higher power was trying to stop me.
In the morning, when I was slightly more sober we tried again. Despite his large dick, I couldn’t get into it and insisted we give up. I kept thinking about this awesome guy I already had and when I admitted my guilt to Jill she screamed “OH MY GOD YOU LOVE HIM!” as I rode wobbly away on my bike.
I caught a couple hours of sleep and survived work, but was over the moon when my second cleaning job got cancelled. I was meant to go to the birthday party of his friend’s girlfriend and even though I was terrified of meeting his friends, I was desperate to see him and thankfully, Jill had agree to join me.
We rolled up with his friend and followed by a few others. The ‘party’ consisted of a handful of his friends, the girlfriend’s entire extended family (I’m talking little kids and old people who seemed perplexed by our presence.) It was an intimate, uncomfortable environment and I couldn’t be happier to have outspoken, friendly Jill there, even if she was swearing loudly at kids.
He wandered off and I got stuck talking to some musos. One of his friend’s girlfriends cornered me to gush about how much they liked me over his ex already and how glad they were to have me in their crew. I couldn’t help but feel flattered. The party died down and the old people dissipated and those remaining began getting wild. We smoked cone after cone and I got on really well with all his friends. Even though he was loser pissed and useless, forcing me to take charge and set up our tent, I was ecstatic when I finally got to wrap my arms around him in [semi] privacy.
I looked into his eyes and realized my feelings for him were stronger than I cared to admit.
I’ll sensor myself a little here, but we got wild. This 30 year old, former Christian who had only been with three other women, was turning into a freak before my very eyes and I loved it.
Every position he wanted to try, every thing I suggested, he was in to. We were so free and open about our desires and past experiences, it was exhilarating. When I said this to him, he looked at me solemnly and said, “I just want all of you, in every way.”
The next morning, we banged again and joined the others to eat egg and bacon sandwiches and swam in the frigid pool. We returned to his house and Sunday Fundayed it. Soon it was only the two of us and he whisked me off to the bedroom to fuck before cooking me butter chicken and then fucking me again.
In the morning, I bemoaned going into work and wished I could spend the whole day naked with him.
Now, I’m here. So lost, but totally unconcerned with it. I haven’t brought up the kids and don’t plan to, because honestly, I’m not really ready to have that conversation. Right now it’s fun and breezy and although we talk like lifelong friends, avoiding such topics makes me feel like they don’t exist or will simply go away.
I fucking like this guy a lot, but there’s no future for us. I can’t stay and he likely can’t leave. Besides, he’ll probably end up taking his ex back and leaving me high and dry. But are those potential issues problems enough to deny myself happiness now? Is the smart thing to end it now before we both get hurt? Cause I can’t get sucked into a relationship and I’m just beginning to think I’m too flighty to ever remain tied down, but maybe… just maybe… he’s the exception to the rule. I don’t know what will happen, I suppose only time will tell, but right now…
He’s the only man who has treated me like gold simply because he thinks I deserve it; or asks me questions about my family; or doesn’t care about my wild past and uncertain future. He’s the greatest guy I’ve ever dated and I’m not about to throw that away for fear.