(no subject)
It surprises me to look back and realize I was with someone who was utterly smitten with me, but was so afraid of getting hurt that he couldn't express it. He had spurts of confiding his deep regret for that. Still does. We had a nice time on the touristy lane of an island, got stoned, went to the museum. We were mesmerized by parakeet feathers and fern curlies and bronze casting, and spoke Artish to each other in a way that is very rare in my life. That was exactly what I wanted with him, to speak a common language that was meaningful to us both.
I cuddled with him, because it seemed like just the thing to do. Old habits die hard, you know. He froze, and though I was shy I didn't recoil. But it wasn't until the final goodbye hug that he kissed me. It was nice. I'm glad he did that. He felt comfortable enough, himself.
Strange overlap, though. The harder we break up, the closer we get. Perhaps someday we'll even out.
Jeff is super lovely. Not a high-maintenance moustache boy. Normal and blessedly straight-forward. I am not worried about leading him astray from his path, which is locked in with his son and his property. I just hope one day I don't confuse it with callousness. The worst that could happen I guess would be he stone-cold cuts contact. Which would be stupid. He's not the vanishing type, even if he'd want to be.
I just want him to play Chopin for me on my piano and periodically make out. He smells nice. I even appreciate his breath and his sweat and his cock. Sensuous and soft and seductive. Clever and cultured. Nice. Firm.
Of course, I get the impression lots of ladies feel this way. He likes threesomes. It's kind of him to present me with tit options at our local goth club, I just don't operate that way. One can't overcome one's terror of women overnight, however nice their titties. But I'm willing to test that hypothesis.
I say firm, but he's still so yielding. Perhaps he's reflecting me. I don't know why this uncertainty. I mean, I finally came for the first time after about 5 weeks. That's got to be a record, honestly.
Still not sure what I want from *him.* Appreciation, I suppose. I can admire all sorts of people, and it's a pleasure to be able to admire him.
I cuddled with him, because it seemed like just the thing to do. Old habits die hard, you know. He froze, and though I was shy I didn't recoil. But it wasn't until the final goodbye hug that he kissed me. It was nice. I'm glad he did that. He felt comfortable enough, himself.
Strange overlap, though. The harder we break up, the closer we get. Perhaps someday we'll even out.
Jeff is super lovely. Not a high-maintenance moustache boy. Normal and blessedly straight-forward. I am not worried about leading him astray from his path, which is locked in with his son and his property. I just hope one day I don't confuse it with callousness. The worst that could happen I guess would be he stone-cold cuts contact. Which would be stupid. He's not the vanishing type, even if he'd want to be.
I just want him to play Chopin for me on my piano and periodically make out. He smells nice. I even appreciate his breath and his sweat and his cock. Sensuous and soft and seductive. Clever and cultured. Nice. Firm.
Of course, I get the impression lots of ladies feel this way. He likes threesomes. It's kind of him to present me with tit options at our local goth club, I just don't operate that way. One can't overcome one's terror of women overnight, however nice their titties. But I'm willing to test that hypothesis.
I say firm, but he's still so yielding. Perhaps he's reflecting me. I don't know why this uncertainty. I mean, I finally came for the first time after about 5 weeks. That's got to be a record, honestly.
Still not sure what I want from *him.* Appreciation, I suppose. I can admire all sorts of people, and it's a pleasure to be able to admire him.