Running Back

I loved having sex with The Fireman. He had an enormous dick that was difficult to play with at times, but we found so, so many other ways to ‘have sex’ than just penis-in-vagina sex. Between him and Goth Boy, I was spoiled rotten in the sex department, so returning to something… “vanilla,” like with Sailor Boy, just didn’t do it for me anymore. And it wasn’t just because The Fireman and Goth Boy were particularly kinky; though, they were definitely that: it was also because they were playful – and that’s the kind of sex I love the most.

Soundtrack: Run – Snow Patrol.

Those boys made sex fun for me – and The Fireman especially.

He spent hours and hours and hours getting to know my body. He worshipped it, and I really do mean worshipped. He kissed every inch of it, touched every part of it, and hunted out all the little spots that made me squirm and gasp. He made it his mission to make me come, no ifs or buts about it – and he wanted real orgasms. None of that fake shit, in his words. He made me promise not to fake it, and aside from once, when he was drunk and it was kinder, I never did.

When I wore lingerie, he appreciated the lingerie. He took his time with it, and me. There were times when he ripped my underwear off, sure… but when I wore the pretty lace stuff that he loved so much, he made it worthwhile. He didn’t just give it a nod and then yank it all off. And I loved the way he smiled when I gave him a sneak peek of what I was wearing underneath my ‘day clothes.’

I think the biggest appeal of The Fireman is just how powerful he made me feel when it came to sex. Not just powerful, either: wanted, desired, beautiful, incredible… and it was incredible. Despite the trust in our relationship, those issues didn’t extend to the bedroom (or out of it.) We trusted our body with the other implicitly. I don’t think I’ve come anywhere close to feeling that with anyone else since.

I could go to him and ask for anything, and he’d never laugh or do anything other than ask questions about it – and vice versa. I didn’t give it a second thought (ish) when he asked me to pee on him that one time, and he didn’t blink when I mentioned the idea of including toys into our sex life. In fact, I’m fairly certain he bought us the first one. He didn’t feel threatened by them and actually enjoyed using them on and with me.

Foreplay would last for days sometimes. He’d buy something for us to play with, then wait a few days before actually letting me anywhere near it… and that, of course, would drive me utterly insane. By the time we did get around to playing with whatever it was, I’d be fit to burst already – and he loved that the most. Remote controlled toys, dildos, random objects from around the home, he wanted to play with it all.

Me on top was a rarity for penis size-related issues, but with lots of drinks and an extra squeeze of the lube, I’d give it a go just to see how quickly I could make him come. It frustrated him that he didn’t last long, but I loved using it to tease and torment him. On one occasion, he pulled out a packet of condoms with mild anaesthetic in the tip, just to prove that he could last longer than four minutes when I was riding him. I think that’s where my love of being on top comes from.

Of course I was going to run back to him. For years to come, I would ran back to him many, many times over. We fucked and loved just as hard as we hated… and we hated horribly.

If you were to ask me which of the boys from my dating history, I’d most like to fuck the most all these years later, I think it would be him. I hope to find another lover as playful, sexual, and passionate as him some day.

I think I’d marry that one next.

The next blog post in the dating timeline is this one: A Disastrous Introduction.