My English Fling

Why oh why did I have to have a one night stand with someone I like and respect? I really like this guy. Dammit. I'm annoyed because it was a PERFECT night. So so so so so amazing. And I know that anything more will ruin it. Because...I'm not supposed to like someone. I'm just allowed to sleep with them. Dammit! This is all my lovah's fault for wanting an open relationship. I don't care. Neither of them live near me, so what the hell does it matter? I'm talking about it and blushing about it for weeks if I want. Nobody can stop me.

Want the details?

Well, he's hot. Like...gorgeous. And cute. and he likes me. He said he usually sends girls down a ladder out his window (jokingly, but I got the idea he doesn't treat other girls with the same respect I got) but he was having so much fun with me and didn't want me to leave the next morning. He likes my teeth. Who in their right mind likes my teeth? He likes me cheeks (both kinds) and he'd pinch my cheek whenever I said something cute. Which was a lot. I'm cute. He knows it. He said I looked a lot better with my clothes off and why did I wear so much that night. He likes music. I played Cake for him and passed some sort of test I could not have otherwise passed, what with not knowing Jack Johnson and stuff. He was enchanted, I think. I was most certainly enchanted. Just the way he adorably rolled his eyes when I stole a kiss. The eyes that said "you're too cute, why does this have to end?" and "you're killing me!"

Want the dirty details?

This guy is a pro. The teasing. The perfect exact amount of teasing that I needed and love and at the time hate in a good way. Man. The perfect amount of talking during sex. Nothing weird, just dirty enough to turn me on even more and just enough communication to make things better but not ruin the mood. Can a one night stand even be that good? He asked me a lot of dirty questions saying I'm probably never gonna see him again so I might as well tell him all my fantasies. So I told him a few and he told me his (all of his involved music and I said "put your fantasy on a stage and we've got a deal") and we acted out what we could. He's...an English gentleman. I found out later that most English gentlemen are the same way. Do you fully know what an English Gentleman is? You'd think it's just politeness, opening doors, carrying heavy things for me...no. The full extent of an English Gentleman is that he didn't even get hard until I was wet. LITERALLY. So once he felt that I was wet, he got hard. LITERALLY. And he was into it, it's not like he wasn't having a good time before that, so you'd think he'd be hard, like, the second he thought about sex, or once he got my top off. Nope. Once he knew I was wet. That's Manners. It's in the core of his very being to put me first. That is HOT.

5 hours. (take that Baseball Knight!) FIVE HOURS of teasing, talking, fucking, laughing. Hot.

I want so badly to be in those 5 hours again. Or the 3 hours before, playing Roxanne or at Kaos with a K.

I've had my English fling and it finished too quickly (though he most certainly did not).