Today, I'm having breakfast with a very special friend. Despite a thorough shower this morning, I am very much aware of the fact that no matter how much you scrub, there are just some things that only time can remove. Normally, I would worry about being in such close company with another man after my lustful sex last night, but this morning, it's just breakfast....
I know her better than she thinks I do, but I let her think that she's in control. She's so in touch with herself, her sexuality, her baggage, her feelings and thoughts, that she damn near gave me the blueprint on how to handle her. I listened, I watched, and at times she tested me - but I always passed.
Although I'll never ask her, I know that she got fucked last night. I have learned her 'tells', and she has a few that she likely doesn't even realize she has. I have almost convinced myself that despite the other men she allows inside of her, I am special to her. I need to know that, I need to believe that, or at least feel that way.
"Call me Trinity," she said to me when we first met.
I did just that. The more time I spent with her, learned her, breathed her into me, the more I wanted in. I needed in, and she knew that I wouldn't be denied. I mean, I enjoyed my freedom, in fact we both do. I've come to feel for her in a way that I struggled to describe. I wanted to protect her, love her, and be everything that she ever needed me to be, and more than she could ever want.
Confidence, humor, and all that other bullshit that she listed in her profile described me fully. I am perfect....for her. If I wasn't perfect for her, the way that she makes me feel when we are together, makes me fucking want to be. She's careful and paces herself with me. I clear her hurdles and stay patient.
I'm 5'11 with dark hair, a very standard issued cock and scruffy good looks. A decent guy by all accounts, and nothing significant about me.
But with her, I soared. She had a way of making me feel like the top of the world was my home address and no matter what the day held, I was coming home to her. Thinking of her being on the other side of that door waiting for me and feeling her breath on me, made my cock as hard as granite.
We had an unspoken agreement that she demanded be spoken. I can admit that I was hesitant to follow her lead. Women have a habit of asking for full honesty and then being unable to handle it. Often times after hearing 'the truth', most women withdraw, become more emotional than they already are, or just got pissed off and spiteful. In the meantime, I ended up looking like an insensitive asshole and feeling guilty for just being honest about my needs and wants.
Not her.
We were separated by a pond, and a five hour direct flight. There was no need in being dishonest with each other. Before I knew it, I was being just as honest with her as I was being with myself. Somehow, she clicked my filter to the 'off ' position, and gave me a signed permission slip to be my real self. As fucked up or perfect as I was, that shit was powerful. Just like she was. Just like WE were. I wouldn't let her hit the ground if I were falling myself.
We fucked other people and didn't apologize for it. However, we didn't discuss it either. She would be happy to talk about other men with me and she made that clear. I chose not to. Maybe my ego at work here, but I'll be damned if I sat idly by like some fucking cuckold and be told about her fuck flings and be okay with that.
I offered an MMF to her and that's as far as I'll go. Even that was a half assed offer that I'm glad she hasn't called me out on yet. I cringed at the thought of having to share her, and when I do ponder it, my rationale is that it's just her body. I felt like I have crept into her mind, her soul, and most importantly, her heart.
I have had plenty of women of all flavors, shapes and sizes throughout my years, but no one like her. She's special and she knows it. I've never had a woman who could push me, drive me and make me want to be a better man, like she did.
As long as we both kept up our end of the deal, there's no pressure, no bullshit, no drama, no nagging, and we sailed smooth. It worked. I stayed put, and so did she. Perfect fucking harmony with full effort resonating from both of us.
After months of waiting, she took that five hour flight and she crossed that pond. She's here. Since she arrived, she'd been very vague and noncommittal about how she was spending her week here. The only thing she confirmed is our time together. That's part of the deal I guess. Before I got pissed off about what she may be doing, I had to be calmed by the fact that I would be spending the last night with her and returning her to the airport in the morning. I made damned sure of that.
Last night, she gave me an early 'tuck in' and I knew that she was off to see someone else. I wanted to explode when I saw those words from her instant message that said, "I'll be tied up having dinner with a friend tonight, but breakfast for us first thing, baby."
I really wanted to say, "I hope that mother fucker can't get it up, or he cums so fast that you get pissed off at him."
Instead, I replied as I always did, "have fun baby".
Sometimes I wanted to confront her about it, but I knew that I was guilty of that shit too. I had to admit that there were countless times that I had responded to her text messages, while in the company of another woman.
The truth is that she matched me. Reciprocity. Balance. Four quarters for a dollar. The push/pull dynamic with her was so intense that sometimes, there's a part of me that wanted to push her out of the window just to escape that feeling, while the other half of me wanted to bolt downstairs to catch her and demand more.
The connection between us was binding, solid, unwavering. It must be. Otherwise, why would I have been willingly waiting to have breakfast with a woman who likely had another man's cock for dinner the night before? Just the thought of that made my blood hot and I felt a tense mood coming on. I've always demanded sexual exclusivity in my relationships, so why was she any different?
It's a question that I'm still learning the answer to. When you find someone that moves you, pushes you, and fills you completely, you either pursue and ride it until the wheels fall off, or you retreat like a chicken shit with your tail between your ass. With both feet in, I pursued her, and all of the humility it forced me to have.
I watched her exit the hotel and with her smile leading the way, she slipped in the passenger seat beside me, and I couldn't help but smile back....
"Good morning baby," she beamed through those full and pouty melon flavored lips.
"Morning sexy," I said lovingly.
I looked at her eyes and saw a familiar look. I knew right away that she was freshly fucked. A pang went through me like a dagger and although I shouldn't have, I felt betrayed.
Why not just cancel having breakfast with me? But why should she? She'd done nothing wrong....
"Huh baby....?" she said again, looking at me quizzically.
"What's that babe, I missed your question," I said distracted.
"Where are we going for breakfast?" she repeated.
"Oh, a little place I like to go to sometimes and it's around forty minutes from here...towards the country," I replied.
"Sounds good baby. As long as you've been there and like it...," she trailed off.
I watched the dimple in her right cheek wink at me as she talked. Her femininity was fragrant and docile, yet powerful and strong. As I did my best to summon my anger again, she reached over and softly rubbed my hand.
My cock twitched immediately.
I ignored the betrayal of my loins and looked straight ahead, focused on the traffic. After a few moments, I glanced to my left and saw her eyes closed. I couldn't imagine a more peaceful scene than that.
"Yeah, I'll bet you're tired right now," I wanted to say.
To say that is a deal breaker though and a flood of my own similar behaviors came rushing back like an annoying pain in the ass. Much to my chagrin, I'm defenseless and won't be a hypocrite, no matter how bad I want to be. I drove through the city and into the open road and allowed my thoughts to take over.
Her sex drive matched mine, and there hadn't been a door I knocked on that she didn't open, or I couldn't find a key for. Throughout our relationship, she has made me beg for things that I blatantly scoffed at with other lovers, and now I did it proudly...for her.
I exceeded her criteria. I had the total package, and I'm far from the jealous type.
Why does she need anyone else? Why can't she keep her fucking legs closed?
Honestly, I knew that she could ask me the same question, and no matter how extensive my vocabulary is, I could never find the words to formulate a sensible reply.
Today was different though. It's one thing to fuck men when I'm not around. I'm here now! Yet, she still had the need to get fucked the night before our date.
This was bullshit. I accepted all of her in a way that not many men would. No limits with her, or any of the bodily fluids that came out of her. I'm all in with her kinky desires, and fuck, I even initiated it, and asked for it myself now. I felt my hands grip the wheel tighter as I drove, anger slowly building inside of me.
"You okay over there baby?" she asked through sleepy eyes.
"Sure thing baby, I'm good. You okay?" I replied, looking at her, feeling totally smitten.
"Always with you," she replied, and her eyes smiled as wide as her succulent mouth did.
A smile from her was my high. I needed it. It took my edge off and fueled me like no other woman had.
That mouth. Full lips, always soothing and not afraid to explore dark places. I looked at her as she rested with her head back, while her more than ample breasts heaved slowly. I wondered what color her panties were. Her legs were slightly apart and instinctively, I hungrily reached out to touch her routinely bald pussy.
I stopped mid reach and placed my hand back on the wheel where it belonged.
Fuck that. I'm not interested in sloppy seconds, I'm no cuckold. I'll take her to breakfast and that's it. I'll have her on Tuesday night, all night, before she leaves on Wednesday.
"Baby, how did you sleep?" she asked testing me as she sensed my distractedness.
"Pretty good baby," I confirmed and passed.
"Despite knowing you were out getting fucked last night," I wanted to add.
"It seems like you could use more rest," I said provocatively.
"I'll be just fine baby," she reassured rather smugly through closed eyes.
"That's it? No explanation about why you can't keep your goddamn eyes open? No excuses for me at all!? The more I think about it, the more I'm ready to punch a fucking wall!
I've lost my appetite by the mile, and my stomach soon formed in knots. The thought that she got fucked by another man, likely mere hours ago, slowly consumed me.