Breaking a two-week dry spell with Fox

Perhaps it’s not exactly a dry spell when I was on vacation (and managed to hurt my labia during masturbation) for just two weeks, but it was even longer since I’d seen Fox.

We had been in regular contact during my vacation, sometimes texting throughout a whole day. We had two long FaceTime conversations near the end of the trip. He commented he felt like he knew me even better, liked me more, and he had opened up even further.

We finally started to talk about the things which interest me – his history, interests, attitudes. It’s as if he needed to trust me to get past the surface discussions I found so dull. I’m glad I was patient.Β 

So ironically, using the least nuanced communication method there is – texting – we furthered our relationship.

We planned to see each other Sunday night after I dropped off Liam. Knowing I would have just come back from vacation the day before, Fox decided he would make a light dinner and bring it with him.

Seriously? What are these things called effort and sensitivity?

Fast forward to Sunday.

I was a little anxious about seeing him. I had to remind myself we had good kissing chemistry and our recent conversations were good. And spectacular sex the first or fifth time is amazing but pretty rare.

I was worried because the one comparison between him and Tony where Fox doesn’t measure up – chemistry – is one of the hardest to forget. The reality is that very few men if any will meet that experience. So I have to place it in the box of “magical things that happened once and are unlikely to ever be repeated”. Shit happens.

Fox came over and unlike previous times, I got more than a peck on the cheek in greeting. I had just barely closed my front door when we were immediately all over each other in a deep, passionate, awesome kiss. He dropped his bag and water bottle on my floor. Having come freshly out of shower with him ringing the doorbell just after I put on makeup and brushed my teeth, I was only wearing a dress – no panties, no bra. No shoes, meaning I had to tiptoe to really kiss him (he’s 6’4″).

We broke apart and made it upstairs to my kitchen where I offered him a drink. He wanted none of that and instead lifted my skirt, put his hands between my legs while with the other opened the fly of his shorts to release his cock and plunged it into me.

We still haven’t quite got our positions right so had to move around a bit. We settled on my kneeling on a bar stool while he pounded Β me from behind.

It was a pretty great start to the evening and there was more to come.

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