Lover, I’m glad you came over…

The Irish summer blossomed midweek.

I invited my best friend since I was 5 up to stay on Wednesday, we drank wine and smoked weed and decided I was calling in sick tomorrow. I called my boss first thing in the morning and warbled something about a bad stomach, and maybe some dodgy sushi…

Two hours on a bus and we were in the midlands, I giddy with the discovery that you can do that, you can choose not to go to work and you don’t have to go… The sun baked the top of my head and shoulders and I drank pitchers of Pimms with fruit, smoked joints and thought of never working again… if only I didn’t have to pay the rent…

We drank in the sun all day, ate barbeque with her friends, and danced in the kitchen til the rays began to creep back across the sky. I was calling in sick again on Friday, we had decided, because if you miss one day of work then it looks bad, doesn’t it? Like you were hung over… Two days, now that’s more like a real sickie…

I woke up 2 hours late and saw I had turned off all my alarms in a hung over selfish sleepy daze. Texted my boss… received a frosty reply. Oh well.

There was no more Pimms but the day was glorious. We rummaged in cupboards, found gin and rum and tipped them into fruit and found it to be a very good substitute… lay in the sun in my knickers and bra and watched my belly turn pink and my thighs too.

Drank til it was all gone and finished the beers and went inside, red in patches but with a healthy glow to my hangover.

I wanted to go out in Dublin so I took the last bus back at 10pm in my new black dress with the white stripes and a pair of sandals. I looked pretty good considering we had been drinking heavily for three days. My friend stayed behind and swore “no more booze, no more booze now for a while…” Oh the bellies on us, too much beer and I just got my period. My tummy warped the horizontal lines of my dress but it still looked pretty good…

I curled up on the bus but couldn’t sleep, behind me sprawled a lairy collection of country boys drinking cans of beer and shouting. The bus driver stopped several times and threatened to turf them out but didn’t.

“I swear, I don’t mind yiz having a can or two, but be considerate… think of the other people…”

It was a rough trip and I arrived in Dublin at midnight, with a great desire to not be alone. I called a friend and he said they were leaving the house now and they’d meet me upstairs in the bar in the smoking area. I bought tobacco and stood in the midst of the drunk and stared at my legs and drank a pint in 15 minutes. My legs looked pretty good, white as ever but with a healthy tender kind of pink to them.

My friend arrived with a posse I didn’t know- a nice group of people.  One of them was an extremely tall French guy… We introduced ourselves and there was a flash of mmm, maybe later. A recognition in the eyes.

I recognised, anyway. I wondered if he got it too or did he just have a flirtatious smile… A gaggle of girls soon approached him and began fawning over his accent and height and they shone with best efforts to appear attractive, but coldly, like predators… I thought, hmm…. I should avoid being flirtatious like that. He was very hot.. I thought he seemed used to the attention and obliging but not impressed, he didn’t smile back at them with his eyes…

I talked to the other men, laughed a lot and tipped more beers down into the bloated mess… Ah well, I’ll start tomorrow… the diet, the detox… whatever. The bar closed it seemed absurdly early but maybe it was 3…

And somebody heard about a rave somewhere, so we piled into a big taxi and found ourselves buying cans of beer from a hipster’s car boot and ducking into a warehouse…

I like this after party scene… there never used to be these raves, but now since moving back, there’s always somewhere to carry on the party.

I danced a bit and finished my beer. Fuck this, I thought, I need some more booze or a pill to keep going. And could I really stomach another beer? I asked my friends, a pill, I could go for a pill.. one of them suggested the French guy. He has one I think. Or try the black guy over there… I said is that not a bit racist? And my friend said no, he told me he is selling pills. Oh… ok then.

But I didn’t want to ask the black guy. I wanted to ask the hot French guy who I had ignored sufficiently so far…

And now I had an excuse to single him out…

I found him slumped in a corner, faded… but then he sprang up and I asked and he said sure, “We could split the pill”  Then leaned in, “You know… If I wasn’t so wrecked tonight, I would have tried to kiss you by now…”  I grinned but said nothing back. Why give encouragement to someone obviously in no state to give me any satisfaction?

He placed the pill half on my tongue and handed me a bottle of Chardonnay to wash it down. Then as I swallowed the little bitter mystery, wondering how might this one be, will it be strong and have me dancing anxiously, or will it do nothing but irk my jaw?  he leaned forward and kissed me with tongue and gusto. My face turned up to his like a sunflower straining up to the sun. He was a great kisser.

We kissed, I danced, we kissed, we smoked, we kissed. I forgot to care about my no kissing in public rule… he was after all, pretty goddamn hot. He went to pee and I bumped into a friend. SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU! HOW RANDOM TO SEE YOU HERE! We danced a little and I was glad to know somebody else there… the other lads I came with had started to sag and didn’t seem to want any more drink or sustenance of the artificial kind either.

I danced with my friend and met his friends, and then I knew one of them from a party the other week too… I felt silly with popularity. Oh how sociable it is now I am back in Ireland…

French guy came back from the toilets and took my hand, led me past beautiful girls and clammy, lost men to a dark hall between rooms. He held my face and looked into my eyes and told me I was incredible and the way I moved in my dress, it is the perfect dress, he said…

I glowed and wondered did I need to take that half a pill after all, sure compliments do just as good a job… I smiled and kissed and tried to remember how I kissed those times I have been told I’m a great kisser, and I hoped I was kissing the good way, blow job style…  I felt utterly happy with my lot…. Thinking, I came, I saw, I had been on a bender for three days and I had my period and a bulging belly under my tight dress but here I was, slow dancing with the prom king. He looked like those guys I fucked in high school who never called me after…. but very, very French.

He stroked my cheek then and asked how did I know? How did I know? And he said I saved him and he was fucked and I came and saved him, how did I know?

I started to doubt the sincerity of his feelings and thoughts in this condition. Maybe he was just fucked up on the pills, oh yeah probably… yeah…. I told myself, d0n’t get carried away with the compliments, he is just caught in a joyful moment and thinks I gave it to him…. I smiled understanding at him and made silly, insubstantial comments that only made him exclaim “HOW are you so understanding… how do you understnad me? You just GET me.” I wanted to get him. I wanted to get him back to mine and I wanted to get him into bed and I wanted to get him inside me. I squeezed myself into the kisses and made my mouth hungry. I allowed the tiniest suggestion of a moan slip from my throat but so low he would only vaguely have heard… I craned up to him screaming sex with my body language… Oh so tall up there… tall, French man… He had a French mouth and French eyes and French hair. Mmm kissing…… He brought me water and wanted me to dance but I didn’t want to dance i just wanted to kiss. I didn’t feel the pill or maybe I did and all it was urging me to do was kiss…

And it was bright outside, the ceiling had skylights of some sort and it was far too bright inside.

A party beckoned somewhere near but that’s not what the night was for, so I asked him, do you want to go to a party or just go back to my place? I remembered my period and threw it out apologetically, just… FYI…

As if I was pre-warning him so he could make alternate plans with a nicer, cleaner vagina…..

He didn’t care, of course he wanted to go back with me.. We walked out of the thinning sunlit crowd of dead faces and sweaty bodies. I said goodbye to a friend and he had crusty lips and his eyes rolled, and I was glad I was going home to kiss someone and not staying out to get into a worse state….

We walked into sun, beautiful hot sun. Passing the other morning folk, crisp professionals unlucky enough to work Saturdays, oh what a Saturday… and their polar opposites, the walkers of shame and the post-sessioners…

I’d feel dirty and disgusting walking around like this but I have this man with me and we are going back to my place.

I was successful tonight… and now I have the sun on my face.

Back in mine and we kiss and kiss and kiss. We talk about things in between. He asks me my age and it’s only then I realise he isn’t the same as me, he is younger… yes, he looked younger… He is only 3 years younger than me but that makes him 21. I’m surprised but now he does look 21, now that I know… I’m surprised because he’s more like a man than all the men I’ve met lately.

He holds me and touches my eyebrow and says it’s  beautiful. His lips on my forehead and my neck and his fingers in my hair. It’s amazing, your hair… it’s beautiful. So much of it, you brush it behind and there is always more… Beautiful…

I want him acutely.

He pulls the curtains closed without using the string and some hooks pop off. We throw the blankets aside and get into bed and he tells me to undress him…. as slowly as I like…

I want him now, and I pull down his jeans and his briefs and then think I should have done it slower, sexier… I feel like I must have disappointed him, I was too rough and I’ve ruined the potential here… ahh.. slow down. Run my fingers over his body and his limbs are long and his body is smooth and his dick is hard. He pulls my dress off with some difficulty and I wish my tummy was flatter, and I wish I hadn’t got so sunburnt because I have burns but I’m white under my bra and pants…. I wish it was any other day and I have a flat tummy and my skin was milky and uniform and my pelvis was pointy at the front.

He takes off my underwear and I twine myself around him so he can’t see how unsexy I look right now with my overgrown lady garden and pink belly… Mmm, He’s hard and I want him.

I want to fuck him.

He wants to too…

But he says, I’ve never have sex before, in this condition..

In this condition, my period, I think… that’s what he means.

Is it ok, he asks.

Em… yeah.. It’s ok.

But I don’t want him to be grossed out. His first time having period sex, maybe he won’t like it, maybe there will be a lot of blood and it will disgust him. I don’t want to disgust him… I mutter just if he’s comfortable with it…

Is it ok? He asks again.

I says yes, but… I don’t want him to do it if it makes him uncomfortable.

He says he’s ok if I’m ok.

I don’t know does he really want to…

I want to..

We kiss and it gets wilder and more intense. Fuck… he’s an incredible kisser and his hands are all over me and his eyes are sincerity and passion and my own kind of openness. He whispers in my ear, yes I want to do it…

I leap from the bed and take my cup out in the bathroom. I hope there isn’t too much blood. I rush back and hope the moment is still good…. It is. I am under him and about to just guide him inside, when he says, and what about something else? A condom. Oh yes… that… Since when am I so lax about this? Bad girl. Bad habit forming… I was always so good before…  I’m embarassed he thinks I am one of those people who has unprotected sex…. I mean I’m not, or I didn’t used to be…. I blush and put a condom on him. Ok…

He pins me down and fucks me passionately, violently, sweetly, and lovingly…. Then we swing over and I am on top and it feels very very deep… it hurts a little. He clutches me to him and bites my lip and my neck….

It feels great but some time he mentions he feels like he just can’t cum. Is it the drugs? I say yeah, that happens with pills… it’s normal… Do you want to stop? We stop and kiss and lie there. Soon we start again and then it is the same again. This time was better though, until he felt weird again and we fell apart sweating and gasping for air and water.

We talk about sex and love and relationships and I’m delighted to be in bed with someone who views sex like I do, or close to it anyway. He fingers my hair and tells me when he says the word love, he doesn’t mean commitment or relationship or anything… just love… and that tonight he loves me, and do I understand? And I remember a boyfriend I had for two weeks, who told me he loved me on our first night together and so I said it back and we were swept up in this instant love affair that went horribly wrong from day two. But it wasn’t supposed to be a relationship, it was just a moment we had together on pills and ketamin… we just turned it into something because we got confused by the word love.

But now I know what it means really, it’s just tonight, and that’s beautiful to me….

I tell him I understand and it’s just the night and I think the sex is so much nicer with the love, and that what I want to have is often called “just sex” but why cheapen sex like that with the “just?” Just one of the most wonderful feelings in the world. To me, like this… it’s the greatest feeling in life…

I start to play with his dick again but then I remember I am shit at this hand business…. It’s dry and I’m not good at it… I have no saliva to spit, even … I wonder if I put some lube on it would that feel really good or will he think it’s weird of me? Or should I ask him first if that’s ok? Is that a weird thing to ask? I can’t tell what the normal procedure here…

Suddenly I grab the lube from the bag of condoms and squirt in on my hand as he watches, and I rub it on him and then think shit, that’s probably just weird. Why did I do that? I’m no good at hand jobs, now I’ve gone all professional with my lube, he’s going to expect some masterful manipulation…. Maybe he thinks I’m some weird fetishist now, does he? Does he? I can’t tell but it’s flavoured lube so I am going to pretend I was just going to give him head all along and that way it’s all cool….

Mm strawberry

So I do that and I save the situation in a big way…  I’m looking up at him  and he’s loving it and he wants to fuck again but I have to go and take that damn cup out again because I’ve had to put it in after every time or I would have Carrie’d all over the place by now. I have a really heavy period and it’s the worst day today. Damn.

So then he’s on me and I think he’s going to fuck me without a condom, and I kind of really want to… he says something in my ear but between the low volume and the French accent I can’t make it out, I think maybe he said I want to fuck you with no condom, and then he saygs is that ok, and I take his dick and slide it… and he doesn’t stop me so I guess that’s right…

We fuck all morning and all afternoon.
We fuck all Monday night and all Tuesday and Thursday and Friday and Monday again. We fuck Wednesday and we are going to fuck saturdayy and Sunday. He’s.leaving for France in three weeks and I have had the best.sex, the most.passionate sex, the most wonderful time…. I don’t want him to leave.me here.with.the.memory.of.what.its.like to meet someone special and go and be.gone but maybe that’s what makes it perfect, that it already has a full stop at the end. There’s a frame.for.this perfect time together and I’m a little bit in love and totally.softened. my frosty post husband exterior has evaporated.like sweat and tears and I hold.his.face.close.to mine and breathe kisses in his ears. What can I do? Just live.this snapshot.of joy to its fullest.and grieve.when he.goes to leave.and wrap the sweetness back inside.me and start the next day and go on from there? Oh lovely days and nights like.it.should be…. Together is peace and passion and yet I’m still all me. Ive had so much hurt but it feels like.with him I am the girl before the hurt, the teenager who uelielded years ago to the first.boy bit the wrong boy. I can’t write.this.properly, I’m using.my new smartphone.but it is a bit fiddly… Will be back properly.when I get internet at home. Too distracted right now.with amazing sex and beautiful manners and respect.like never before….. To sort out something like internet. See you soon.., unfortunately.too soon….

X

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