My giant…fu*ks me proper & fixes my car (#6)

continued from My Giant…Meets me (#5)

We establish quickly that with kissing we have a great physical connection.  He takes it slow but the heat builds and then its hands everywhere, mouths everywhere, that delicious feeling of heat and passion and building tension.  I get put down on the bed and he lifts up my skirt and I can instantly see how much he enjoys what’s underneath it.  So much so that he simply rips off my thong (the next morning, picking it up off the floor, it looked shredded).  He goes down on me and proves he’s got mad skills.  I cum over and over again.

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while you know that I rarely remember specifics about the sex I have – at least not enough to pretend to be able to recount it in precise detail, even if I wanted to.  I can tell you – it wasn’t the best, but it was pretty darn good.  I think because of all the expectations I had, given his sexual experiences (he’s done pretty much everything except sex with another man…including sex with a transsexual woman, tons of threesomes, anal, you name it) and his talk about being an alpha male…I thought he would be more aggressive.

But instead, here was this lovely guy who, every time I opened my eyes when we were having sex, was looking intently at me.  I felt weird closing them again but I usually am so engaged in the act itself, I can’t take in any other stimulation…it’s just too much.  He came with such gusto.  I would have liked it to last longer.  But all in all, it was a decent run.  He told me that he really liked me.  I liked nestling into his arm and enjoying the warmth and kindness of him.  We ate cheese, drank wine, and talked.

We had a few goes of it, and didn’t go to sleep until the wee hours.  In the morning, had sex, the breakfast, then I cajoled him to come back to the room again with me before I had to leave to go back home.  I had to leave by noon to pick up my son from my Mom’s, where he  had stayed for the night.

I dropped him off at his place.  He had told me he was in temporary accommodations because he was new to the city and didn’t want to immediately commit to renting long-term before he knew which area he wanted to live in.  Seemed practical and reasonable.  This town is a college town and it turns out, he’s in what is basically student housing.  His non-working car was in the driveway, covered in snow.  I didn’t get out; we kissed in the car and said our goodbyes.

As I was driving home, I started getting text messages and emails from him regarding the warning lights in my car.  He had gone online, looked into some owners forums, determined the root cause and basically suggested a solution that would cost me 20 dollars instead of four hundred.

I found myself thinking about how nice it was that someone would take the time to try to help me out.  I thought about what I would normally do – just go to the dealership – and that it was appealing to have someone who was mindful about things.  Who said “don’t waste your money, if you can deal with a couple of bolts you will save yourself a lot”.

On the drive home I ran through my typical post-date debrief.  Good?  Kind, considerate, intelligent, great kisser, passionate, good in bed.  Bad?  Conversations were sometimes one-sided, didn’t ask me many questions, no job, kind of annoying habit of spouting movie quotes and random facts.

Would I see him again?  Absolutely.  Would I likely have to be the one to drive to him?  Yes.

[Part Seven]

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