Made a complete fool of myself with 26yo last night.  The sex is so fucking good that I get loopy and gooshy.  Last night I said something along the lines of, “We clearly have a special connection and it needs to be acknowledged.”  To which I got crickets.  And then he made it clear that no such special connection exists.  Ouch.

Even if there is no “special connection” there’s more than he acknowledges.

We were on the couch making out and he told me our photo shoot was his first threesome (which I guess I had known but didn’t fully realize) and then went on to thank me further, I think because I’m willing to do such things with him.  But then he got quiet in a way that appeared to be thinking about something he’s not saying.  I could certainly be reading too much into it, but there was something.

Then we went upstairs.  Of course I wanted to suck his cock.  I rubbed my pussy on on his leg and my tits on his cock.  It was quite hot.

26yo’s very generous in bed and loves playing with my pussy–until he comes.  Once he’s come he’s done.  I have now fully grasped this.  We had gone upstairs in order for him to use gloves on me.

But rubbing my tits on his cock and pussy on his leg made him come–hard.  I think it kind of surprised him.

I had come all over my chest and he had come on his crotch area.  We lay there for a while with just the sheet over us and the sheet got soaked through with the come he had on him.  I must’ve rubbed the soaked-through sheet sticking to his skin for a couple of minutes.  I could feel the texture of the wet sheet and knowing it was come made it feel even better.

That would’ve been a time to get at my wet pussy but no such luck.

But I did get to thinking that our relationship, such as it is, is perfect for both of us–we can and do fuck other people and we’re genuinely happy for the other to meet new people.  We can be completely honest and nasty and dirty about what we want sexually.  We still talk like regular people, with an emphasis on sex, of course.

Why the fuck was I trying to push it into some sort of mold or place a label on it?  Silly.  I’m done doing anything other than enjoying him.  It does no good to think about when it might end because then I don’t enjoy the present as much.  And I want to enjoy every bit of him.

I like his feet, his skin, his hair, his smell, his cute little naked body, his beautiful face, his poufy booty, the way he touches me, how much he’s into my tits, that he likes to do to my pussy the things I’ve always wanted done to it, his cock, the way he fucks me.  The way his cock pushes past my palate and fills up my throat.

I swear.  True story.