The evening started with me on the couch sipping wine to unwind and ease the stress. I put some music on to distract myself and waited impatiently for Matt to show up. When he finally did, I was surprised to see he wasn’t conspicuously dressed up; I was used to seeing him in suits and I couldn’t picture him not wearing one. Instead, he was wearing a navy silk shirt and dark fitted jeans; he still managed to look impeccably elegant, making me feel unkempt and self- conscious in my black long-sleeve and distressed jeans. If it wasn’t for my fresh haircut and neatly trimmed facial hair, I would’ve been timid and bashful.
Sitting down at dinner, his charm immediately invaded the entire atmosphere, but it was detrimental for me to get solid information regarding his sudden encroachment into my life. As soon as I opened my mouth to ask the first question though, he initiated the conversation; it started with comments of appreciation for my courteousy and praises of my food. He showed a distinctive interest in the origin and asked about the ingredients involved in the making of Beschwipster Huhn which is one of my favorite German dishes my mom always used to make. I watched as he delightfully dug his fork in his plate, making a worthy bite and savoring it, and I was a bit hesitant when he motioned one towards me; I ended up taking the whole spoon, almost licking it clean. Things escalated pretty quickly; he was unbelievably interring and uproariously witty. I was flattered by every compliment he gave me, but couldn’t keep up with him. He was moving fast; too fast I didn’t know what to make of the situation playing right in front of me. It was fiendishly difficult for me to maintain eye contact with him; there was an unusual, steely resolve in his eyes that I found intimidating. He looked at me with an intense gaze. He was simply too good to be true I didn’t know how to navigate the situation or proceed forward. Logically, no one would turn down such a handsome man or reject his compliments. The discreet, little touches he made were soothing and the hypnotic tone in his voice made it hard for me to resist his advances. Him taking command felt extremely good. I could deeply feel things were headed to a whole new level, but I wasn’t sure I was ready. I kept blushing and looking down, letting my thoughts wander as he dauntlessly glared at me. The talking had stopped at that point, and I just wanted him gone. I wasn’t ready to allow myself to let go and become vulnerable, and knowing that was indication enough I had to put an end to our evening. After we were done eating, I started to clean up and intentionally stalled; I became less verbal, almost completely quiet while he explored his surroundings. I hoped my passive vibe would convey some sort of disconnection and lead to the closure of our night, and after a few exchanges in the living room, I was relieved when he finally understood he was no longer welcome; he grabbed his coat and motioned towards the door.
Loneliness is a strong motivator in letting our guards down and falling in love, and I certainly didn’t want that to happen; I had to be emotionally ready before diving into something just because it felt good. It’s impossible to fully embrace the incredible aroma of love, instantly turning our life around and filling it with happiness and contentment if we have issues that are undealt with. I didn’t want to be the person who relied on someone else to survive, so I was better off not crossing that line. I struggled to shut down all the overwhelming pleasurable sensations taking over me. Turning down someone so refined and beautiful and smart was a big challenge, and I hated myself for doing it, scared of regretting my decision once he left. Once we reached the door, I put my hand on the handle and let it hover for a couple seconds. He looked at me and I reciprocate. He carefully leaned in and kissed me and I pulled away, huffed and opened the door. After a short, motionless pause, he moved away and walked out. He turned and wished me good night and I shut the door. I rested my head on it, breathed out hard and listened to him walk away; he made a few steps forward then stopped. I waited. I was too afraid to look through the peephole. I became sick to my stomach and prayed he’d continue walking away. Instead, he walked back to my door and stood right on the other side of it, his lurking shadow creeping under it. I totally froze and avoided making any subtle movements. He knocked on the door and I almost jumped. I moved away and walked further away from it, startled as if an intruder was standing on the other side of it. I retreated to the living room, unnerved, and tried to remain calm; he knocked again and I had to push myself forward to open it; he was standing with his back arched straight, his eyes already glaring at me before I even appeared which definitely creeped me out. He stood there like a cat cutting its eyes at me, never blinking for quite a while; it was like he was scanning me, and it almost felt like I was being challenged in a staring contest with whoever backing down first being the loser. I cut the game short by finally accepting my fate and cleared the way for him. He finally blinked and proceeded in walking in. I closed the door and faced him; he took his coat off and placed it back on the sofa where it was before and turned to me. Him being rambunctious, unreliable and hard to read certainly made it hard for me to foresee any of his actions. He cornered me into the corner of my living room, put his hands on my hips and pulled me closer to him. We breathed in each other’s scents before he pressed his lips against mine. At that point, I gave up and decided to accept the situation, tucking away my worries as the sexual tension started to build up.
He led me to the kitchen, turned me around and pushed me against the counter, my chest lying flat against the cold granite countertop. I heard him unzip his pants and felt the tip of his cock brush against my ass cheeks. Using his spit, he lubricated it before pushing himself into me. I shut my eyes, let out a sharp cry and endured the uncomfortable tension when he first entered me. He fucked me then, and the pain slowly eased into pleasure. His thrusts were steady, almost rhythmic, his balls slapping against my quivering ass. He moaned continuous warm breaths into my ear, his facial hair sharply brushing against my neck and cheek. I drank in the strong piney scent of his perfume which made my head spin. He pulled out his cock, wrapped his right arm around my chest, his toned, solid forearm placed firmly against my thorax. He fondled my left breast and squeezed it as his tongue slowly found its way back inside my mouth.
He moved away from me and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his huge muscled torso. My eyes wandered downward to his abs. His abdomen, legs and arms were covered in smooth black hair. So sexy. He grinned and approached me again; I felt incredibly excited by his display of control and virility. I looked into his eyes and wondered what he was about to do to me next. He sloppily kissed me, biting my lips, suffocating me with his tongue. He grabbed my jaw with his long fingers and ordered me to open my mouth which I did; he gathered a decent amount of saliva and spit inside. I swallowed and opened my mouth again to receive more. He repeated.
I was guided to my bedroom and pushed straight into my bed. Matt walked out of his skimpy black briefs, his hard, flounced out cock pendulously swaying. He stroked it and walked over to me. He reached for the back of my head and buried it in his crotch. I gobbled his cock deep inside until it hit my uvula. I sucked him hard with my moist mouth as he groaned in pleasure. After a long, gag-inducing face fucking, my jaw began to ache. He took out his glistening cock, grabbed me and threw my body towards the top of the bed, the back of my head conveniently landing on the pillow. He pulled my legs and positioned each one over each shoulder, held my ass firmly in place and gave it a few licks before easing his cock inside me again. My body jerked when his thrusts became rough. He flipped me around in bed and fucked me from different angles; each one feeling better than the one before. He kept ramming me hard and spurted his big, warm load deep inside me. He let out a loud roar before collapsing next to me. The room turned completely quiet and all I could hear was his heavy breathing and my stuttering heart. I was limb and breathless. I turned around to face him, and his head was already set facing mine. I closed my eyes and smiled, and I heard him get close and before I knew it, I was deep asleep.
The first thing I did when I woke up the next morning was roll over and stretch my arm behind me, expecting him to be sleeping right beside me, but it only reached the empty space where I imagined he’d be and that briefly put me in a an immediate state of disappointment followed by the bitter feeling of being taken advantage of, thinking he was gone. What I didn’t know until that point though, was that a worse feeling existed; the fear of being deciphered. When I didn’t find him next to me, I turned around to the shocking sight of him casually sitting in my arm chair while shamelessly going through the pages of my diary, an act I found so abhorrent not to mention a huge violation of my privacy. I jumped out of bed in one single motion and swiftly snatched it from his hands, agitated, my body pounding with anger and adrenaline while he remained calm and surreptitiously stared at me and grinned.
“I knew you were my equal from the moment we met”, he said before pointing to my diary. “What’s in there proves it.”
“I think it’s time for you to leave”, I responded.