Kneeling before Him...
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Sunday, February 01, 2004
Have you ever had really bad sex? I mean really really bad sex? The type of bad sex that leaves you thinking that you will never sleep with that person again? I have.
I don't mean with Mac. With Mac it may not always be perfect (though most of the time it is) but I never finish fucking Him and think, 'oh, that was disappointing.' At the very least I think 'YUM!'
There was one guy in my past that I did have bad sex with. I have often thought about why it was bad and wondered if it was my fault, or his, but I think it was neither. We just should never have done it.
His name was Glen and we had been dating a month and there had been some pretty heavy petting sessions. He was a little older than me, 21 to my 18 but as we were both living at home, privacy was a luxury. He worked late most evenings so I pretty much only saw him once or twice during the week but we would spend most of the weekend together. On the fourth weekend, his parents had gone away and I planned to stay overnight. It was going to be THE night.
We ate dinner and we watched a movie and it was all very strange and uncomfortable and I possibly should have feigned illness then and gone home, but I kept thinking that it was just first time nerves for us. It would get better once we were in bed. Eventually I made the first move and said I was tired and asked if he wanted to go to bed. He said ok and led me to his bedroom. His bedroom. Single bed.
Ok. Now I can understand that people have hang ups about sleeping in their parents bed, though I never suffered from them myself. Yes I had sex in my parent's bed. Yes it was good sex and yes I always washed the sheets before they got home. So, single bed it was. I started to get undressed, just taking off my shoes and suddenly there was darkness. Complete, pitch black, can't see my hand in front of my face darkness. Spooky.
'I can't see you. Can you turn the light back on?'
'Oh. Uh. I would like it off. Your eyes will adjust.'
Ok. I was now rather confused. Do I keep getting undressed? Fully naked? Should I leave a shirt on? Bra and panties? I could hear Glen getting undressed but I had no clue what to take off and leave on. In the end I decided to play it safe and left my shirt and panties on, but had slipped off the bra. I stumbled towards where I thought the bed was and crawled in beside him, noticing that he had left his shorts on. Whew. Leaving the shirt on was the right move.
We kind of squished together on the bed the best we could. Then silence. Nothing moved. Nothing touched. Nothing spoke. I waited a little longer. Still nothing. So I kissed where I thought his mouth was and I was more or less on target. We found a rhythm and it was starting to feel nice. I was stroking his body and He was touching mine and I could feel his erection against my thigh. We managed to get out of the clothes we still had on without falling out of the bed and I went to move over him but he said no and he moved over me.
Ok. No problem. Missionary position is often best for first time sex, its close and loving and can feel quite good, especially if the girl raises her legs and wraps them around his back.
'What are you doing?' He gasped in surprise.
'Putting my legs around you.'
Ok. Legs back on the bed. I tried to kiss him and he pulled away. I moaned and he asked me to be quiet, he couldn't concentrate. (Concentrate? On WHAT?) By now I had given up any hope of the sex between us getting any better. It was over quickly. I kissed him and thanked him and told him it was nice. He didn't say much. I felt rather awful. I tried to go to sleep. Really I did try, but I got this thought in my head that it had just been nerves, and now that he had actually come, if I could make him hard again it would be better. Right? I mean it couldn't get any worse. Could it?
Yes. It could get worse. I did get him hard again and it was a repeat performance, only this time he was in no hurry to orgasm. So I was laying there, on my back, feet on the bed, hands on his shoulders allowing him to pump away at me, feeling nothing. It was late and I was tired so I did something that I would never believe that I could have done.
I fell asleep. I did! I don't know if I drifted off for a long time or if I just had a little micro sleep but I suddenly woke up and the words were out of my mouth before I even knew they were coming.
'Aren't you finished yet?'
To his credit he managed to finish off and he stretched out beside me and promptly fell asleep. I didn't know if I should apologise to him or not because he had given no indication that he had heard.
We dated for another month and half and I made sure that we never had the opportunity to have sex again. Now I am sure that there are women out there that would find that perfectly adequate sex. But not me. I love to see the other person, touch the other person and to me sex is the act of joining together, not something shameful to be done in one position in the dark. I know women who think it is and if they are happy with that then so be it, but I just couldn't bring myself to go through that with him again.
We were incompatible in bed. Which really should have come as no surprise. The man loved cars and I can't tell a Peugeot from a Ford Prefect and my idea of a perfect Sunday did not include cleaning mag wheels with a toothbrush. He didn't read (I love books). He didn't understand the movie 'Hunt for Red October' (which I thought was brilliant). Clint Eastwood was his hero (if I had to watch one more Clint Eastwood movie, I was going to scream). He didn't understand the things that made me laugh.
So why was I dating him? Well, see, my mother adored him. She thought he was wonderful. She set us up and she was just so delighted that we were dating that I didn't want to break her heart. I slept with him thinking that would make us a part of one another and everything would be alright from there but that was never going to work. You either connect with someone or you don't. You can't force it and when it doesn't happen, its only fair that you let it go. I knew that he loved me and a part of me loved him too. He was really a gentle sweet kind giving man and I didn't want to hurt him and so I allowed us to keep seeing each other for another six weeks. I hated myself for it. It wasn't fair on either of us. In the end, I had to tell him it just wasn't working out. I never cried over him though, I never felt the need and to me it just proved that finishing it was the right thing to do.
With Mac it is just so different. W/we laugh at the same jokes, W/we love the same movies (except Lord of the Rings, I love it, He thinks its boring) W/we read the same books (except He refuses to read Harry Potter). W/we even love the same art and adore the same kind of women. Neither of U/us cares about cars, so long as they are reliable.
When W/we have sex, the connection between U/us strengthens and entwines U/us together. When He woke yesterday He wanted it sleazy and sluttish and W/we both came quickly. W/we lay together afterwards talking and laughing until Mac said He wanted to come again. This time it was soft and loving, with my tongue in His mouth while I slowly jerked Him against my tummy. He had wanted to come inside me but as He reached orgasm I didn't want to let Him go, I didn't want Him to move and He didn't want to either so His semen sprayed across my belly. It was deliciously warm and loving.
It was less then 40 minutes later as W/we were passing each other in the hallway that I reached out my hand and caressed His arm. He stopped to kiss me and I undid His shirt to feel His chest and He lifted off my shirt so my breasts could press against Him and then I was jerking Him again and He was taking His sticky semen from earlier off my belly and rubbing it into my clitoris. W/we were next to the bedroom door, perhaps six feet from the bed and neither of U/us made a move towards it. Mac leant back against the wall and let me love Him with my hands and kiss Him over and over while His fingers played over me. He growled into my mouth when He came and He held me up when I came and still it wasn't enough.
Mac picked me up so that my legs wrapped around His waist and my arms wrapped tightly around His neck and He carried me to O/our bed. He lay between my legs and held my pussy open, taking long slow licks of the inner lips until I came again. Then He let my pussy close and He ran His fingers over it, covering me in a film of U/us and I came again.
I reached down and held His face in my hands and I asked Him if I could kiss Him some more and He crawled up over me. While I licked U/us from His face He entered me and I wound my legs around Him and W/we kissed and kissed and W/we came while He was deep inside me. And then W/we came again. I held on to Him and kissed Him for so long that I almost forgot how to let Him go.
W/we met up with a couple of friends for lunch and one of O/our friends exclaimed that W/we had an aura of sex about U/us. I looked at Mac and was surprised to see just how content and at peace with the world He looked. He was glowing and I realised that I must look the same way too.
Last night as W/we climbed into bed Mac complained that His lower belly had ached all day and I pointed out that the five orgasms He had might explain it.
'Five?' He asked.
'Christ, no wonder it hurts.'
I giggled at Him and He pulled me to Him and kissed me and I kissed Him too. While W/we were still kissing I felt Him grow heavy with sleep. I told Him that I wanted to kiss Him all night while He slept and He said that would be ok with Him. He slipped even closer to sleep.
'Sarah?' He murmured.
'Love me as much tomorrow, ok?'
'No, Baby, I wont. Tomorrow I will love You much more.'
He smiled and said thankyou and He took the final steps towards sleep. This morning I woke next to Him and I was completely full of Him. The feel of His skin, the way that He smells, the sound of His breath and His heartbeat. I watched Him sleep for the longest time and I kissed Him softly and smoothed His hair gently and made sure that He didn't even stir.
Mac? I love You more today.
And I promise You that I will never stop.