Lewis and I hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks – mostly due to my vacation schedule. Unless I’m willing to see someone when I have Liam, I’m on a two week cycle. And sex with Lewis is rather, ahem, vigorous.
I wrote my last post while waiting for him to come over. It was a mostly typical Lewis encounter that night. We have a drink, talk about work (this time there wasn’t much talking), we go upstairs, undress, but of foreplay, he pounds away forever, we talk more, he goes home.
In some ways it was a bit different.
I greeted him at the door naked except for lace panties, with his drink in my hand. Hence why the shop talk was cut short.
He actually orgasmed, which is unusual (it takes a really long time). It was through manual stimulation which he’s also not done in front of me. He falls asleep right away after cumming, and this time he stayed overnight. The last time he saw the morning sun at my place was the first time we were dating, last summer.
After a bit of spooning in the morning we had another round of sex. And if I don’t sound excited about it – I’m aware my language is rather flat – it’s not that it’s not good, it’s just always the same and it doesn’t engage my heart. He’s technically proficient, with a stunningly muscular body and big cock. None of these are bad things. But I can’t write about great-but-mechanical sex with the same language I would describe the sensuality that is Tony, for example.
And I refuse to see any of the little intimacies with Lewis as anything other than a) oxytocin in the moment or b) a reasonable level of mutual liking of each other.
At some point in the week, Lewis told me about a weekend afternoon BBC party at a sex club a half an hour from my place. We planned to go together. I hadn’t been to a sex club in a year. Last summer, between breaking up with Tony and meeting Fox, I had many crazy / fun / wicked experiences. Despite some invitations, I just haven’t felt it since. When this girl can go to a gang bang party solo, I can certainly show up solo on a regular night.
I picked a hung-over-but-game Lewis up at his place. It was the first time I saw where he lived and the first time I ever had him in my car. We drove and we talked and when we arrived at the club we noticed the distinct lack of cars. Two juicy bottomed women were sitting outside in chairs, smoking. When we walked up to them the one complimented me on my dress and then mentioned the start time of the event was wrong on the website and it didn’t start for another 45 minutes.
I wondered whether Lewis made them wet just looking at him.
We returned to my car to talk and decided we would stay and see who showed up and then make a call. He did most of the talking – like many men he doesn’t ask questions, which I chalk up to a basic lack of interest in me as anything more than what we have.
By the start time we were still the only ones in the parking lot. Well us and the two smoking women. We decided we would make our own party at my house and promised each other we would go to the next BBC party that worked for our schedules.
We didn’t have much time but we made the most of it. See above for the standard description of sex with Lewis.
I will see him again in a couple of weeks. With none of my close male friends available and nobody in my dating pool, he is going to again accompany me to a formal event. There is something nice about having a reliable date. One who won’t bail or ghost, who will say nice things about how I look, engage me in decent conversation, and fuck me silly at the end of the night.