When he called around half six, I was more than half hoping he was calling to cancel. He wasn't. He was checking what time, and he nearly sounded excited.
He arrived late, we picked up some wine and cuddled up on the safe for a [insert vomit here] couple-y evening.
Our conversation dominated over the television. I didn't want to initiate anything intimate, annoyingly he didn't either. After enough wine (that would be the first glass for me), I ended up telling his about my tense conversation with Jason and seeing Obi-Wan Kenobi. He seemed to be fine with the details, although he did question if I wanted to pursue Obi-Wan Kenobi - I said not.
Was I trying to push him away? Or was I highlighting what I thought about his commitment-free ideals.
Watching the recent French Lady Chatterley I commented how vocal the sex wasn't, just light panting and the occasional grunt. Little did I know that later this would be a reality for us.
We undressed to our underwear, kisses followed, then a multitude of mutual oral (we always kiss after oral - score!) with no climax for either of us, a quickie then sleep. I tried to slow the sex down but it was too late, his silence said it all. I nuzzled into his neck and realised that my words from the previous week "You do realise I hadn't come to climax..." had hit home more than I had intended and I couldn't take them back.
Around five in morning, I awoke to cuddles and an erection. He must be the first man in a long while that I haven't never minded the morning breath embrace. Spooning, he penetrated me, slowly at first, then hard and quick. He stopped, asked if had come, my answer was nearly. He sighed.
I had forgotten how nervous he was when we started seeing each other, his tolerance levels just needed to be built up!
We overslept, not waking until noon, so no morning sex. AND I LOVE MORNING SEX (and calm!). We parted for a day of respective errands and chores.