Erotic moments

Internet-dating. I wasn't a big fan. I've never been. But this is the story about the exception to the rule.

This guy wrote me and it was the beginning of mail upon mails going back and forth. They were the joy of my day.
I didn't think of it as flirting. He lived far away as a student. Months went by. Eventually his semester ended and he went back here, to his hometown to work during the summer.
By then we'd grown pretty found and curious about each other. We decided to meet up. Win or loose.

One strange thing when I think about it now is that up until the day before we didn't have the slightest clue about what the other person looked like. Since we weren't flirting.

I imagined a kinda boring-looking fellow. I was really surprised to get a bright red headed (coloured) guy in T-shirt and jeans, a few pounds to much, a package full of charm.
Very soft and mellow. Thoughtful and smart.

We had a lovely date, walked around town, had coffee and talked.
As we walked by the sea-side it started pouring down and we hid under a tree. We stood close and felt overwhelmed.

By the end of the date, he got shy as he said that he'd like to do it again someday. I just nodded, to shy to move or breathe. We hugged.

The next day there was this sports game.
I went to a bar to watch it with a couple of friends, when he texted me and thanked me for yesterday. It was Friday and he asked me what I was up to? I invited him to join us which he and his friends did.

He stood by the bar as I happily walked over. Hardly knowing what to say. So I just grabbed him by his hand and took him somewhere were we could sit down to talk.
"Did you know I had a pulse of 170 when I met you yesterday?"
I thought it was weird to count ones pulse, and wondered how. I also knew the feeling. I just wanted to be close to him.

And then he did what I regard as one of the most tender and soft things anyone's ever done to me.
Gently he took my hands in his and softly kissed my arms.
It blew me away.
We sat there snogging for hours, talking and then we walked all the way back to my place. Making stops to make out and feel each other more.

We got home early in the morning.
I sat on the floor while trying to pick some nice music and he just got behind me, held me, kissed me (eventually killed me).

We laid naked.
Feeling. Touching. Tasting.

He loved when I scratched him hard on his balls. Very hard. Nails and moaning. I felt excited from brining him pleasure and then I wanted him to please me.

If you get inside me it will calm me down - (I'm going to die)
If you come inside me I will never get enough - (I am going to die)

"I don't know what to say..."
We lied naked in the bed holding on to each other. Birds outside and he continued:
"I think that was the most erotic moment I've ever experienced."

In amazement we feel asleep.

The Big One

His was big, I guess it's still the biggest , or at least longest I've ever experienced! It completly surpriced me.

We had been flirting for a while and finally after a party we got it on in one of the rooms at work.
It wasn't all just sex, not in my mind. We cuddled and then just got to excited to be able to stop ourselfs.

It's not all honey and milk tho'. The size of his penis actually put a damper on things since if he rocked to hard he hurt me. I'd crumble and moan in pain.

He also said he liked my breast, but also my ass. "nice and grabable". I really liked when he firmly took a hold of it, as to show how much he liked it.
It was suh a strange feeling that he found me sexy. I mean before that only my ex-boyfriend ever told me that but I figured that wasn't completly biased. To turn someone else on was something new and fascinating.

However I wanted something more, that he wasn't able to give me.
So due to lack of affection from him I went and got it from other places. To compensate.
It was a hard time as I tried to understand why he didn't like me. At some point he must have... otherwise why did we have sex, you don't want to have sex with someone you don't like, right? That's where I came from...
I learned that doesn't have to be the truth.
The guy actually lead me to alter the frase "There's people who want to fuck you, and there's people who want to fuck you".

I'd also like to clarify that he had difficulties of his own... a has-been drugie with servere emotional problems.
And he excused my behaviour with that of some Florence Nightingale-person... which I never bought or believed, however I couldn't convince him that I didn't want to save him, that all I wanted to do was have him make careful love to me, which he was unable to do.

It was a hard and emotionally expensive lesson to learn.