Sometimes Only a Cock’ll (Doodle) Do

He just left. Bear just left. I’m sad. He didn’t make me walk him to the train station because he remembered the way, plus he knew I wanted nothing more than to put my PJ’s on and crawl into bed to tap the rest of the day away in peace and quiet. It had been a long couple of days. He’s so good to me.

I didn’t want him to go. We had such a great evening and night last night, grocery shopping for picnics in bed, complete with crumbs all over the place and a whole load of laughter. We’re still waiting on those results, so still no sex yet. It was the hardest night of my life, and we came close to just fucking doing it a couple times. I don’t know if he had condoms, but I had a stash in my bedside cabinet. I thought about reaching for them, but then I figured we’d waited this long, what was another week? Because that’s when I’m going to see him next. And hopefully his results would be in before then.

I’d bought new lingerie, massage oils, lubricants, even a new body wand. Although I’d abused the latter so much before he got here, the batteries ran out, and those were the only size of batteries I didn’t have in the house. Go figure.

I didn’t even get the chance to put the new lingerie on, he was so enthralled with my new patterned tights, skirt, and cute ankle boots combo. Plus I was wearing this teeny-tiny thong that apparently goes down very well. This time he told me my “body was a weapon”. If nothing else comes out of this, I’m going to have the biggest ego. He can’t keep his hands off me. So much so, in fact, I’m starting to believe I’m actually hot. Don’t worry, I’m sure that won’t last. Just wait until the next time I open Instagram and see another airbrushed supermodel that reminds me I have stretch marks and lumpy thighs.

But his complete obsession with me, my body, and making me cum? I’m starting to wonder if there’s a reason he’d rather direct the focus on to me. With lubricated hands, I figured I’d find out once and for all, and I’m not how to say this, or even if I’m right about this, but I think we may have a slight issue. As in, he can get the wind in the sails, but the wind doesn’t seem to stay in the sails for very long, and I still haven’t yet managed to make him cum.

To be fair, I’ve not really been ‘unleashed’ yet, with the whole no-sex, no blowjobs, only handjobs approach. And I’ll be the first to say that my handjobs could probably do with some work. I know what I’m doing when I’m working my hands with my mouth, but for some reason I just don’t feel overly confident on my hands-solo technique. I’ve never received negative feedback (that I remember / listened to), it’s just not the most confident move on my menu. Is that weird? Probably a little, right? Ah well, I’ve said it now.

For now, I’m just going to hold off on my judgement because he seems to have no problems when I’m straddling him barely clothed, making sure he knows what he’s missing. There’s definitely wind in the sails then, if you get my drift? I feel like I should add a wink and a nudge just to make this even more uncomfortable. But next week … next week we will know. Hopefully. As long as his results are clear, they should be back by then. And if they’re not clear? Well, I don’t really know how I feel about that. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that doesn’t happen. Obviously.

Gosh, when did sex get so difficult? I know he’s 15 years older than me, but I’m kinda hoping we don’t have a problem here. Because I know I said I could probably cope if we never even had sex with his great hands and all, but I don’t think I could. I would miss … well, cock. I’d miss cock so much.

Sometimes only a cock’ll (doodle) do.

*And just because I’m not getting cock, I’ve eaten 12 mini chocolate muffins in the last hour. Don’t worry, no one saw. No one needs to know.