Early afternoonTuesday, I found myself on the train, headed to a lovely city to meet with a man. For the sake of this post, and any in the future, I shall call him “MM”. Not because those are his initials, far from it actually, but because I met this man through MultipleMatch.com. MM and I have actually been communicating for quite some time now. The only thing I will share is, that, though he is from Switzerland (and a rather beautiful part of it) he does not live in this country, so when work sent him my way, of course I was delighted he could carve out some time to see me.
I nearly walked right passed him at the train station’s main hall, as my eyes were busy taking in the sights around me. Finally meeting him in the flesh was exciting. We walked together to a local cafe, where we sat for a few hours and just talked, getting to know one another on an even more personal scale. Dinner was elsewhere, and I delighted in the cuisine of the region. It’s just so bland where I live. I topped the evening off with a dessert of banana cheesecake with a drizzle of chocolate sauce.
As the hours became late, it was time to move things to a more intimate place. It was time to head towards the hotel. The hotel itself was quite nice, having been booked in a hurry. Turns out, the place that MM was staying in just would not do for us. He had a tiny single bed in a very small room. It was a student living area. We had the option of being adventurous and living the “student’s life” with our passion, but thought wiser of it. Especially when we knew we would want a few hours of restful sleep, which wouldn’t happen in a bed built for one.
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As we arrived in the hotel room, MM took in the sights around us and was jabbering away. I, however, stood frozen in spot as my eyes could not stop looking at the most hideous painting on the wall. I mean, someone created this art on purpose? I couldn’t stop looking at it and the more I looked at it, huge and perched on the wall, overlooking our bed, the more it creeped me out. MM finally saw what held my attention and the more we looked at it together, the more we secretly thought to ourselves, “I can’t fuck him/her while THAT is looking down at me!” So we did what any normal couple would do, we took the ugly thing off the wall and turned it around to face it!
Now that THAT was out of the way, it left the awkward moment of how to get things started. So, I went the corny route, sat myself on the bed, and asked if it was comfy. (MM had actually been to the room prior to the date. How he managed to miss the hideous painting is beyond me). MM slinked over to the bed, saying that it was comfy and smirked how it was two single beds pushed together. One of us would probably end up on the floor at some part of the evening, as our fucking would most likely split the beds apart.
Then he asked to kiss me and I said yes.
The next hour or more had us in a hot mess. It was the kind of fucking that made you wet with sweat. It was the kind of fucking that smeared the colors of my makeup all over the pristine, white sheets. I sucked his lengthy cock and told him I wanted him to cum on my face, but before he lost himself in his own lust, he wanted to fuck me to orgasm. As I lay on my stomach and he teased me from behind, he leaned over me, pressing himself into my body, his lips were at my ear and he breathed the words, “You know that recording you sent me, of you having an orgasm? That has got to be the hottest thing I have ever heard and I have been dreaming of hearing it in person and done by me.”
We broke momentarily, me to grab my vibrator and he to grab a condom. Back in position, he pushed himself slowly inside me. There’s that moment of pure ecstasy when you feel someone entering you for the first time. You feel their body invade yours as only theirs can. You feel them differently. I pushed up against him, impatient to feel him completely buried inside me. He fucked me fast and hard and slow and deliberate. My vibrator was busy stimulating my clit. As he thrust into me over and over, I felt my orgasm climb until it swept through me in a hurry with his pounding thrusts. He had his wish. He made me howl in orgasm with his fuck.
MM was wonderfully verbal. I have a thing for verbal lovers. It’s hot hearing a man moan, growl and groan in pleasure, especially because it is me and my body that is helping him feel so pleasurable. His voice rose to a peak many times, but never quite hit the crescendo. We stopped fucking long enough for him to remove the condom and I took him into my mouth once more. I sucked him, hearing and feeling his pleasure rise, but again his release never came. He was going to make me work for his orgasm.
He wanted to fuck me again. This time I was on my back, as he rolled another condom on. He pushed into me and moved in such a way as to press into my gspot. My moans rose with his. It felt so damn good. We fucked like this for awhile until he decided he wanted me on my stomach again. My ass in the air and my shoulders and face pressed into the bed, was how he enjoyed me most. My ass was available for his spanks and he enjoyed pinning me down. As he fucked me from behind, his hands were at my face and neck, holding me down, rocking me with each thrust. The beds began to split apart. My shoulder began to sink between them. Over and over his voice would rise in pleasure, only to stop. He commented on how good everything felt, but was getting frustrated at how he couldn’t quite get over the edge. I began to feel inadequate, which I know is silly, but you begin to ponder these things. He let the thumb of one hand press into my mouth. I began sucking on it as he fucked me. I breathed into it as each thrust forced the air from my lungs. He seemed to like this, a lot. Harder and faster he fucked me. I could feel the moist heat of his body. Finally, his voice rose in pleasure and finally, his orgasm was mine to experience.
We collapsed after that. Our bodies spent, wet with sweat. Looking back, I could have probably had the opportunity to have more than one orgasm, but my concern for him to have his own, took priority in my mind space. We spent the rest of the evening in pillow talk before drifting off to sleep. In the early hours of the morning, when the sun began to illuminate the room, I looked over to him, only a peaceful face was to be seen, framed by the absurd fluffiness of the pillows, while his body was incased within the comforts of a cloud-like duvet. It’s an image I’ll most likely keep with me for a long time. That and that hideous painting.
As for what does the future hold for us? Who knows. I’m not stressing about it. He lives where he does and I am here. It wouldn’t be difficult for me to travel to him, or him to me, if we really wanted it. MM is polyamorous, like myself, so that is a huge advantage. For now, we enjoy each other as we can. I would most certainly see him again.
© At Longings End
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