I think he's getting in deep.

The sex is getting more intense, more tender, more loving. It doesn't feel like fucking anymore.

And this is complicated because I'm moving 400klm away.

And he doesn't know yet.

I spent the weekend with him, like I usually do. I finished work and went back to his house, and the more I thought about it the more different he's behaving already. Softer, talking of his ex less, his kisses are soft and not the fuckbuddy kind, a lot less rough with me, and he's letting me cuddle under his arm, something he wouldn't do before. Now he welcomes it.

Jokingly, he asked me what I was going to cook him for dinner. And I jumped at the chance... I completely forgot how much I enjoy cooking for someone. I cooked him (the perfect, haha) scotch fillet, baked veggies, and mushroom gravy. I cleaned his kitchen.

I was in his work shirt (much oversized on me), nice panties and hair loose. I'm a chronic shirt stealer, I think he's figured it out now, but it must have looked good for him. Me leaning, pantless against the wall, talking to him, while his steak cooked, both drinking a beer.

He ate and then cuddled me. Cuddles slowly, and sleepily turned into sex on the couch. Sex on the couch started getting rapidly more intense. The rapidly intense turned into fast, and very tender. And I couldn't stop cumming.

A word on how I cum. Previous to this man, if I squirted it was a tiny dribble. But the more comfortable I get with this man, the more I cum. I'm talking gushing. I literally soaked through 4 layers of fabric on his couch, seat and recliner back. There had to be at least half a litre of liquid there to do that.

So me on top, him thrusting and holding my hips up so he could watch me gushing. And it was so intense, and I was so excited from how loving it was, that when he kissed me softly combined with the hard deep thrusts, I came gallons.

"Let's relocate to the bed. Test it out?"
(we broke it previously)

straddling him and sitting on his cock, straight backed and deep as he could go, meant I nearly came straight away, full-gush.

He stopped. Had a bit of a giggle and I grabbed two towels, folded them over eachother and under him, and then resumed.

I rode his cock, sliding over my own cum, and everytime I reached that place I'd gush.

"get underneath."

I went to turn my back to him.

"no, face me."

I lay down on my back and he gently propped my knees up against his chest and held them there while he fucked me.

Now I've never been able to cum laying down, but I squirted and so much came out I nearly hit myself in the eye with it. And god, I was moaning. He fucked me hard through it and started shaking.

"You're going to make me cum..."

He blew and rolled over next to me.

And for the second night in a row, it was just "wow."

After some time of breathing, laying there, feeling how amazing our bodies were he looked over at me.

"you're welcome anytime. You pour me beer, you're a great cook and make me steak, you're hot, you fuck like a champion and you're not annoying as hell. Where have you been?"

I feel very similarly towards him.

I feel okay with the person I'm with. It was going well except for;

1) a major accident with him involved and my car gone.
2) I know I'm leaving.

I saw him last night, and he had the rough Mark Davis porn on. My choice.
He suddenly "got it".

Laying next to him, he was drunk so too rough to use his hands, I kept pushing him off me, and he was obviously feeling rough so it was driving him nuts. I started on his cock, and he was pushing me deeper. "Swallow it properly. Come on, all the way. Good girl."

Holy fuck, he's got it.

And I tried a helluva lot harder. He pushed me down and started fucking me.
Deep sigh, this is better.
As it heated up, I started pulling him deeper.

"Now, if I fall out again, if you push me out again or pull away.. be careful girl."

I pushed him out again with a smirk.

"That's it."

He got up, got the lube, rubbed it into me and positioned himself against my ass.
I whimpered, unready for it, and he had a threatening smirk on his face.

Goddamnit, man.

He pushed a little in, and said "come on. You'll love it."
Whimper.
"You'll love it. See? Good girl."

"You want out?"
"Yes, sir, please."
"Ask for it."
"Please sir, please please pull out."
"Slooowly?"

He's smiling.

"Yes, slowly! Please."

"Slower?"

"Yes yes."

He pulled out and regular sex resumed after a change.

This is where his new found words played well. With me on top, straight up, and his thrusting up, it's easy for my to squirt. Writhing, whining on top of him, he had my hips pushed up so he got a full view of me coming on his stomach.

I came and it wasn't that impressive, for my standards anyway. "Don't fucking dribble, do it properly."

Woah, he never talks like this. Cool.

Next time I came, in probably 10 thrusts, I came full gush.
And I fucking loved seeing his face when I do.

"Have you ever seen this? It looks fucking awesome."

"Now, for lifting off me all those times, you're going to cum ten times like this, then you can rest."

And I did. I was nearly crying and whimpering in the time he was pushing me to do it but I came, he pushed me off him and said "there, rest."

I looked down at him and he was completely soaked. I hadn't soaked someone like that before, and it looked amazing. Tasted sweet. I sucked his cock.

He ended up fucking me from behind holding my hips up to keep me from collapsing in a heap in front of him.
He came on my stomach.

The morning, I woke up feeling his hard cock between my thighs pressing against my ass. He was still asleep and I backed up onto him, probably already sleep-horny. I pushed back more until he was between my pussy lips, and he thrusted. He was either awake during, before or just after he pushed into me but either way he started fucking me full force on the side.

All before work.

This weekend was amazing.

Friday was painful. I saw someone who I never expected to leave me for the first time.
I forgot how fantastic his voice was.
I had to photograph him.

Anyway...

I wake up Saturday ready to leave, as per usual. He convinces me to stay and we drive to the High Country, where I shoot my first rifle, get my ass back in a jacked-up truck, and see how good I am at 4wd'ing again, haha.

I thought about the coined phrase that "if you judge a fish on its ability to fly it'll never be good at anything" -- well, I couldn't talk computers, politics, religion or English with this chap, but as soon as I wanted to talk about cars, animals, guns, mechanics, nature, he was smack-bang on it. You put someone where they wanna be and suddenly, they're smarter than anyone you've ever known.

Got me home before work. It's a Saturday night and I get a text that says "I had a really good day with you. Door's unlocked if you want to come over."

I do. I slip into bed next to him. He's never pushy or rude.
Cuddles.

Wake up at 8am Sunday, and I tell him he should get his Commodore started.
I thought all it needed was a battery, some fuel and legal tyres.

I then spent 9 hours under the hood of a Commodore figuring out how to fix everything, ever, under the hood of one of these things. And it was the best time I've had in ages.

5 beers later and he drives me home.
As predicted, I had gotten the "curse" overnight and he didn't flinch when I told him, just looked at me as if asking if it was alright with me... had an awesome fuck, then quickly showered and slept together again. The majority of men I've been with get so squirmish with it, he didn't even flinch.

I guess he guts deer for a hobby so... haha.

That fuck was interesting. I get hyper sensitive and touchy and sore all over, and he's usually quite rough. When he saw I was serious when I asked for softness he cooled right down and was gentle as a lamb, even kissing me with more tenderness.

This morning I must have been tired. I didn't hear his alarms, feel him get up, or hear him shower, as I usually do before he leaves for work at 6am.

I woke up when he sat down next to me on the bed dressed for work. I really like this moment, probably one of my favorites. He never fails to sit next to me and give me a cuddle and a kiss before he leaves.

He kissed me gently, tucked my hair behind my ear and said "Thankyou for this weekend. I'll talk to you later, missy?"

I was texting him earlier. I told him I was bored and he said to download the Hangover.
I said I didn't wanna watch it by myself.

"You're welcome over here whenever. I really don't mind. Sex aside you're a cool chick and don't completely shit me like most of them. Lol. Rare find, most chicks go all weird after sex if it's not a one night stand."

finally someone realises i'm awesome, haha.

I have trouble allowing myself to be comfortable, to be okay, slow and patient. My whole body is anxious all the time. My mind is jittery.

I can be the whore.
The mother
The comforter
The girlfriend
The slave

I don't know which one I want.

I have something very good right now. He's kind, all brawn no intellectual brain, smart as hell for things that require "feel", which means he's brilliant at his job. He loves cars and owns the best of both worlds, heavy loud luxury cruising muscle and a 7" jacked up 4wd.

He's showing me things. Nice things that aren't tied to stress and anxiety. He's calming.

So I went and saw him Friday night after work to help with his iPhone and didn't leave until 12pm Monday. For someone who I KNEW was playing me, this is interesting as hell. But I've thought about it.. when you act like a whore, you get treated like one.

#1) coming over, staying the night and leaving afterwards is whorish.

"she's a nice girl but just a friend and a fuck I want _______ anyway."

#2) coming over, talking, cuddles, giggles, staying the night, spending the next day together, and doing it all over again isn't.

(to the other girl) "i'm kind of seeing someone but I'd still like to be friends."

So, better results.

I like that this one visits me at work. He sees my car and he'll stop by on a quiet night to talk.
A player. Someone I won't go near.

He's one of those who say "follow me", but they walk behind.

But I'll admire over the bar.
He's not a teacher of my heart.
But it is nice to be thought of, visited.

Teachers.

Everytime I have a new encounter, my head speaks in poems.

I kiss him, that first connection.
Intimacy started. As it happens...
My heart is singing "are you the teacher of my heart?"

#1 Soft he answered no.
#2 Yes, he said, but not for thee.
#3 Yes, I teach young hearts to break.
(and just as I was sure his teachings were pure, he drowned himself in the pool.)
#4 No, do it once again.
#5 Yes, I teach tired hearts to rest.

Teachers, are my lessons done? I can't take another one.
And they laugh and laugh and ask "are your lessons done?"

I don't know what it is about successful men, and or men who believe they are.

I seek to improve. After a good childhood I grew up on my own.
I seek guidance.
It's probably why I seek control.

His texts last night I was heavily offended. Sex brings emotions high.
This morning I re-read and thought he was probably right.
His choice if he'd like to continue, guide, mould.

I'm a good pupil.
However his tone was leaning towards a goodbye, a list of improvements not for him, but as a "there you go, here are my suggestions to help you find what you're looking for."

My disappointment with that solidifies in my mind, I want a man to serve.
I probably should have told him that when he gave me the chance, but I wasn't 100% then.
Long-term.. Really.

Affection, control, room to move, a man to serve
Education, teachings, a Master.
Goals, services.
Comfort.
Safety.

Short encounters always remind me of of a room filling up with mosquito's, because they heard that my body was free.