Finally I can post the recent weekend craziness I’ve experienced, I’ve just arrived to London a few days ago so I’m a little bit jet lagged but at least it doesn’t give me an excuse to not blog about mr number 10!
Ok, so what happened? I know I said number 10 would be my (future) boyfriend -.- (no comment!) I contradict myself far to many times and that is bad of me. So anyways, enough blabbering, during the weekend on my last day of work at the café I work in, I got ready as I had dinner arrangements and clubbing with my friends. As I walked out the house with my night bag for the evening it suddenly started poring down with rain. I was a little annoyed but thankful that I had just stepped out of the shower not long ago, so my hair was still quite wet and the clothes that were being completely drenched were just a pair of jeans, top and blouse. I didn’t care how I looked; I knew already that I looked like a drowned rat.
As I arrived to meet a few of my friends that were waiting for me after their shift, we quickly stopped by the bottle shop before heading home. As we giggled and talked rubbish while selecting our poison, they took their time picking the wine they wanted. I knew what I wanted and couldn’t be bothered waiting for them any longer; I took the case of apple cider and headed towards the till. I wasn’t going to acknowledge the guy at the till but he started making small talk and when I looked up to see his face I thought he was quite cute so started to socialise back and asked how his day was and what he had planned for the evening, we giggled during our small talk till my friends popped up, I instantly stopped talking and making eye contact as I knew they were going to ask what the deal was.
An hour later, I still couldn’t get over that guy from the bottle shop, he was cute and I thought the conversation flowed which was nice for a change. I wanted to get to know him more so kept telling my friends I was going to give my number even though I had previously told them that after the dj and French bouncer would be the end of it. But as usual, contradicting myself again I wrote my name and number on a small piece of paper and headed out with my friend to pick up another girlfriend of ours from the station as well as quickly popping by the bottle shop to give my number.
When the guy saw me he joked saying I’d come in to get more drinks but instead I was asking him to come join my friends and i at the club, he was going to write down his number but I replied back that I had already written mine down and gave it and walked out.
Exactly at 11pm, the time I said to come meet my friends and I he came with his friend and were polite and sociable. We drank a little bit before heading out and getting to know each other a little more. For a change it was nice to have someone not forcing himself onto me, we clicked and laughed and teased each other. He even gave me a piggy back ride and kept smelling the corner of my neck complimenting on my scent which I thought was funny.
In the club we danced and kissed, what I liked about the kiss was it just happened, it wasn’t rushed and the both of us wanted it. Not like those times where I didn’t want the guy coming anywhere near my face but then just getting their lips smashed onto mine.
As the night progressed, both our friends ditched us and went their separate ways to continue partying, in a way I was glad to be alone with him, as I wanted to get to know more of him and ask personal questions. I asked him to come to mine as I had the flat to myself. We talked for over 2 hours, moving from my room to the living room; we also had long kissing sessions in between and slowly taking pieces of clothing off each other.
While he told me his dark secret about once being a drug dealer, I had somehow made him guess about my dark past, he guessed pretty quickly as he said he could read my body language pretty well. I was uncomfortable telling him about the whole abuse, so I steered the conversation.
Both under the blanket, as our lips perfectly moulded into each other, it was passionate and soft. I was feeling a little anxious about the sex that was about to happen, he could tell that I was overly thinking, quite shocked that he noticed he replied back by saying it is seen all over my face.
I can tell you, he was different from ALL of my previous experiences, he was extremely different, which was nice but weird at the same time. Made a lot of eye contact, he kept asking how I was which guys never did before and kissed. I couldn’t properly explain it to my friends but like I told them it felt like we were making love or I was experiencing it for the first time. It was gentle and passionate rather than the “fucking” rushed feeling.The whole evening he kissed my navel where my belly ring was and nipples, he kept touching every corner of my skin, even though we didn’t cuddle (because we just don’t!) he did softly kiss my shoulder in the middle of the night. I didn’t feel any sort of regret or guilt the next morning.
Though it was very nice and all, I don’t know… I don’t want to make it sound like my vagina is to big or something or that his package is small, not at all. I didn’t orgasm as usual! And a lot of the times when we were doing it, sometimes couldn’t feel him inside or when I did it didn’t do me anything e.g rapid breathing, feeling tingles or what ever feelings from good sex (obviously don’t know how to describe what good sex is anyways).A guy friend said it could have been because my body wasn’t used to this kind of sex and I also think its because it was the first time doing it with him? Its always worst on the first attempt.
I know it sounds bad reading he used to deal drugs but he didn’t seem to be that person when the whole evening i met him, there was nothing dodgy about him or any of that sort. He seemed the type to fight alot of demons and is trying to change his life. He seemed like a monster but i saw the good in him, at the end of the day we all have a horrible past we’d like to rewrite and forget, no one is person which is why i am not judging him for it. We shared the same values and he was a romantic, he offered to cook dinner the following evening but because it was going to be my last evening in Perth i canceled, he was gutted.
That evening i learnt to stop apologising for things that weren’t meant to be said and what ever happens is not my fault (unless it is of course). Even though he was the sweetest guy and we connected well, i didn’t get any deep feelings, maybe i’m mentally forcing it? I know love doesn’t come instantly. Though i always think i’d instantly fall in love with someone while making eye contact, like the first time i saw my (so called) ex in class over 6years ago.
I feel bad though because i didn’t tell him i was leaving for three months till after we had slept together, he was disappointed obviously but i think it’s for the best. Who knows, we joked we’d see each other when i come back… You never know? But i’m not going to hope on it, if it happens, it happens if not then i won’t cry over it.