Whirlwind.

*Long post alert. You might want to make yourself a cuppa. Don’t say I didn’t warn you*

Written on Wednesday morning (April 27th):

Life with him is like a whirlwind. It’s crazy. We’ve had two fights in two days, both of which resulted in me sleeping in his giant bed alone and him spending the night on the couch. I got the train over on Saturday night, the end date to be confirmed. This morning when I woke up alone for the second time, I realised four nights was too long, I needed to go home. My eyes were still a little swollen and sore from too many silly tears, and we’d started to piss each other off. I’d planned to go home on Tuesday but after the Monday fight and our first night spent alone, he asked me to stay for one more night so he could make up for it. So I did.

You see, this all started a couple of weeks back… 

He told me he wanted me to give him head. No surprise there. But this time, he had a special request.

BE: “Hey kitten, I want to ask if you’ll do something for me?”

Me: “Always, what do you want?”

BE: “I want to cum in your mouth but I want you to suck me from soft. Will you do that for me?

Me: “Yes.”

I’ve never been asked that before but it sounded like lots of fun so the next time I saw him I did just as he asked. I dropped to my knees, unzipped his jeans, slipped them and his boxers down just enough to release his soft cock and I took it in my mouth, working my magic until he collapsed back onto the couch from his standing position, unable to stand because it was the “hardest he’d ever cum”.

After I climbed on his lap and we curled up together, he said to me, “Is there anything you want me to do for you?” 

“Yes, lots but we’ll get there” I figured I’d give it a few weeks before I opened my naughty box of tricks. I know I can be as naughty and as kinky as I like with him but that stuff needs time to materialise, you know? I can’t just be kinky for any old guy who comes along.

BE: “Okay well name something I can do for you tonight then. Anything you like, you’ve done what I asked.” 

Me: “Honestly?”

BE: “Honestly.”

Me: “I want you to oil me up, massage me until my shoulders don’t hurt anymore and then flip me over to work your hands across my chest…”

What’s the point in lying? He asked what I really wanted and he does give me the most incredible massages … when we get there. Usually what happens is that I get promised a massage and then we get carried away getting naked and shit, falling asleep all tangled up and covered in sweat, cum and occasionally tears. Plus he’s already expressed his desire for a ‘tit wank’. I figured we could kill two birds with one stone! 😉

Well, that was ages ago. He promised he’d give me that massage the last time I stayed over but it didn’t happen because we got all naked and whatever. He promised me it every night I stayed this time and it had been four nights and my shoulders still hurt. I’m not childish, I know I can’t always have what I want but, and I know I sound even more childish here, I’m real good to him. Like, REAL good to him.

When he was working on his van, I made him cups of tea and delivered them down three flights of stairs with a kiss. I took photos of his progress from the third storey window looking down, plus a video of his happy little dance when he’d finally got that broken component working again, videos and images he later couldn’t have been happier about as he eagerly shared them on his social media pages. He’s such a poser. He loves a good photo and I secretly snapped him like the stalker-paparazzi chick I am because I knew he would LOVE it. Which he did.

I cooked breakfast, I cooked dinner three out of the four nights I stayed and with the exception of his angry mid-fight cleaning, I’d done all the dishes. I know he paid for all the groceries and stuff plus he rolls all the spliffs, makes me cum on demand, blah blah blah, but come on. Where’s my fucking massage?

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t do nice things for him like cooking him dinner, doing his dishes, doing his laundry, sucking his dick, etc. for him to do those things back to me. It would be pretty hard, I don’t have a dick. Plus him cooking me dinner is a total nightmare with my allergies and all. But I do those things because I treat people the way I would want to be treated. I would want someone to care for me like that. And usually he does. But something had changed and it was starting to feel little one-sided so I wanted to nip that in the bud before it got any worse.

I hopped in the shower before bed and he told me he’d get in after me before taking me to bed, massaging me right up and giving me a “good seeing-to”. He’s such a charmer. When I got out the shower and called for him to get in after me, I realised the bed still hadn’t been made. I’d been in the shower for a good 20-25 minutes and he’d not moved from the couch. He just sat there updating his status or doing whatever it was he was doing. He’d not plugged his music in or put a movie on like he said he would, he hadn’t lit the candles like he said he would, he didn’t put the duvet cover on or made the bed… He just sat on his ass after I’d made dinner and done the dishes and sucked his dick and was a generally great girlfriend.

He hopped in the shower and in my freezing cold, wet state, I lit the candles and busied myself clearing up, waiting for him to get out. When he did, he jumped right on the bed, complaining about the cold, messing up the cover I was hopelessly trying to put on the duvet because I’m useless at making a bed and never quite managed to get the hang of it.

Now I was pissed. He was starting to take the piss. Of course I got the hump. Why wouldn’t I have done?

Me: “You could have just done this while I was in the shower you know?”

BE: “Shut up and get into bed.” 

He helped me finish making the bed (or rather I gave up and he took over) and then we climbed in together. I was still grumpy so as he slid his hands between my legs from behind, I stiffened a little to stop him. When he realised he wasn’t getting anywhere, he got up out of bed and huffed back into the living room, slamming the doors behind him.

You’ve gotta be kidding me. This is the second night in a row he’s done this now. I’m annoyed. Fuck that, I’m PISSED off. Still in the onesie I’d been waiting for him to take off, I flew into the living room, shouting like a total nutter. Long story short, I ended up crying in bed and eventually fell asleep, and he slept on the couch for the second night in a row.

Well, this is going splendidly. Two out of four nights apart. We’ve only been dating a month. The course of love apparently does not run smooth. At all. In fact, it’s a fucking whirlwind.