He was nice enough to pick me up from the airport when I arrived home (yes, for those of you keeping track – he dropped me off AND picked me up). To make sure he wasn’t just being nice, I gave him a couple of “outs” prior to the actual date. He didn’t bite, so it was a plan. We agreed he would sleep over at my place, and have the morning together as well.
While I was away we spoke almost every single night – Skyped, to be specific. He doesn’t like to text so each day there were only a couple of text messages here and there, but one day I didn’t hear from him all day until I texted him late in the evening. He’s a real estate agent so I know he’s often running around and on the road, but still.
One night I found the guts to tell him that I’d love to hear something from him – even if it’s just a good morning – so I know he’s thinking of me. The next morning I got a “good morning” and a picture. It was a nice thing.
Each night we spoke, he would tell me what he did each day. I am keenly aware that he still has his FWB relationship. At some points during my vacation, it occurred to me maybe he wasn’t seeing her anymore. Maybe he was trying to reassure me by being precise about what he did each day and night. I thought perhaps he needed to have her as a possibility, but he wasn’t acting on it.
Then one night we were both laying in our beds talking on Skype, and he seemed to get tired pretty damn quickly. He said goodnight right at 11pm. It felt off to me. I tried to convince myself I was just being silly.
The one night we didn’t Skype, I sent him a goodnight text and saw he didn’t read or respond. Not even the next morning, until I sent him a follow-up asking if he’d had a good night. By then I had worked myself into a lather, convinced he had spent the night with her. I started a blog post called “My pet peeves: non communication and other women” and as I was typing the first sentence, I heard back from him. He called me and said – oh how crazy, he fell asleep early.
I really tried to believe him, but there was still a doubt in my mind. I chalked it up to my paranoia, of being hypersensitive, of the trust issues I obviously have. I didn’t think he would lie to me – and I hadn’t backed him into a corner verbally.
The day I left, we chatted on the phone in the morning; me on the beach and him driving to meet a close friend for breakfast. He asked if I wanted to say hi when he picked him up – which I did. I thought this was a good sign – it was the second person in his life he had “introduced” me to.
When he picked me up at the airport he gave me a big passionate kiss, a squeeze on the ass, and a groan of pleasure. So far, so good. We drove to my house and made out briefly – just for a few minutes – before walking the 1 minute walk to the grocery store to get some lactose free milk for his coffee the next morning.
And my descent started there.
Problem #1 >> I wanted him to not be able to resist me. To put me on my couch and pull me to him and for us to have a quickie (or not) before going to the grocery store. He knew I was horny as hell – and I thought he had a similar appetite.
At the grocery store, I make light of the fact that he is kind of killing me with not fucking me first. I say something along the lines of it being 8 nights, which made me crazy. Then before I know it I’m saying something like “oh and aren’t men supposed to be even hornier than women? How can you survive 8 days?”
He says nothing.
There is some from-behind-whilst-standing-in-the-yoghurt-section groping, which feels awesome. I really like how he touches me.
Problem #2 >> It flits ever so briefly through my brain in the moment, then comes back full force this morning in the wee hours, that a) duh, he probably hasn’t waited 8 days, because he’s still fucking his FWB, and b) it appeared as if I backed him into a verbal corner. I guess he doesn’t want to lie to my face.
We get back to my place and there is more kissing and groping in my kitchen, as I open a bottle of wine. We go upstairs to my bedroom. As I take a pause to brush the airplane food taste out of my mouth, he gets naked and when I return I find him in my bed. We talk for a bit and kiss and I decide to warm him up a bit – I go down on him and he’s making all the right noises but his cock is not responding as it should.
This is distressing at any time, but now the thoughts are really swirling.
I’m torn. Obviously, one doesn’t want to bring attention to any deficiency…I mean, after all, it does happen, and I figure that calling it out and causing more anxiety isn’t the right approach.
He tells me to get on my back. He puts his hands between my legs and quickly brings me to orgasm – I’m now able to get out of my head a bit. Until I realise he’s still not hard. He moves his cock between my legs, in and around my pussy, and that helps him get there.
We have sex for maybe 10 minutes – it’s good. We fit together well. Until he pauses and says he needs a break. He says he’s distracted and just needs to wind down from his non-stop day.
Problem # 3 >>What the fuck. I can’t get him hard? I can’t get him out of his own head? He doesn’t even want to help me get off some more? Wow. Did he fuck her this afternoon, is that why? Or is it something I did? Or both? But shit, I can’t exactly make this an issue…make him feel bad about it. Because nobody likes a woman who makes them feel inadequate.
So, we didn’t have sex again. We talked for a few more minutes, I tried as hard as I fucking could to not make an issue out of it, and he fell asleep.
My problems didn’t stop in the morning.
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