I don’t really know where to start. I’ve definitely got fuck-tinted spectacles on as far as Jock is concerned. Our camping third date went so perfectly, even with some of the sex awkwardness, that I’m just kinda walking around on cloud nine, blushing every now and again as I remember some of the naughty stuff we did.
And speaking of naughty, I fucked up. We fucked up. When we woke up in the morning, a little hungover, ravenously hungry, and more than little in need of hydration, we fucked again. It was lazy, slow, tent sex that was simply wonderful, but we forgot to use a condom. They were right there, in pockets and handbags right next to us, but we just didn’t think to reach for one. It was early in the morning and both of us were a little roughed-up from the night before … I know it’s no excuse but it happened. Thankfully, I’m on the pill. I must remember to get myself to the clinic at some point, though. Maybe I’ll encourage him to do the same and then we can fuck without condoms all over the place with reckless abandon.
Anyway, back to his dick.
There was definitely a moment where I kinda went … oh.
I’m not sure what happened. I just had all these expectations in my head of how big his dick was going to be and then it wasn’t that big at all. The bulge looked much bigger, you know? It’s not tiny, but I’ve been thoroughly spoiled in the dick size department before. Most of my boyfriends have been very pleasantly endowed, and I’ve even had a couple that were just a little too big for me. It’s rare that I come across a little dick. I don’t know why that is. That’s just the way it is.
At first, I thought he was circumcised. He’s not. I don’t actually know why I thought that. I didn’t exactly get a great look at it; just a brief glimpse-and-grab in between rolling condoms on (or not) and stuffing him inside of me. I don’t have any dick-complaints, but I definitely feel as though he was overcompensating for dick size with all of the mouth and finger action … because there was quite a lot of that when we first started out. It was fucking heavenly. I can feel myself getting damp between the thighs just thinking about it now, writing this.
He’s a very attentive lover, too. He tries things and gauges my reaction, continuing if he sees it working to arouse me further, or moving on when it doesn’t have the desired effect to try something else. Definitely an eager-to-please kinda guy, but I’m not complaining about that in the slightest. I don’t have the hardest time reaching orgasm (thank you, God!), but first-time sex is tricky even for me. Plus there was the whole going-down on me business … I genuinely thought I was going to be too nervous to cum, but he managed it. He’s clearly a keeper.
It was awkward sex, but not uncomfortable awkward sex. Does that even make sense? It was awkward because it was our first time and because we’re still learning about each other and because we were in a tent. It was hardly a recipe for fuck-success, was it? Yet it still WAS a fuck-success. I came … more than once. He did, too. And we fell asleep with satisfied smiles on our faces, snuggling the night away.
“Sex isn’t all that important to me,” he said to me a few days ago. “Pleasuring you is important, but it doesn’t have to be from full sex.”
He wasn’t lying.
Exactly 24 hours after he picked me up for our third date, he dropped me home. And then exactly 45 minutes after that, when he’d finally returned to his house, the texting commenced. And let me tell you, we’ve made some progress.
“There’s something definitely here, isn’t there?” he asked me.
I had to agree with him. I can’t stop thinking about him; about how much fun we had on the date. We just went camping. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less, no big extravagance. Yet it was one of the best, most fun dates I’ve ever had — and not just because of the sex. The sex was great, yeah, but we had drinks and talked and held hands and were … well, a real couple. It’s what we’d be doing if we WERE a real couple, hopefully.
It’s not lust, what we’ve got going on here. It’s more than that. It’s more than what I felt for One Ball, that’s for sure. I thought I was into him but I can tell you right now that just three dates with this guy have already blown the ex right out of the water. I can barely remember what the ex even looks like. My entire head – all of my thoughts – have been consumed by this new man in my life. Jock is EVERYTHING right now.
I know we’re still at a VERY early stage, but I’m actually obsessed. 24/7 obsessed. I miss him when I’m not with him. I miss him when I can’t text him. I just miss him all the time. And now I miss more than just his chat and friendly smile: I miss his dick and his fingers and his mouth and the way his skin feels when it’s pressed against mine.