Breaking fast

I don't mention my personal life as much as I did with previous blogs. I hate to shed those older blogs but it seems like the aim of those blogs evolved into this passion that I have with WoW. Which would be better to nurture: an addiction of WoW or sex? Addiction is a inherently negative word used to describe the overwhelming urges to feed oneself with external stimuli so this is an exaggeration.

I swore off physical indulgence since December and embraced my New Year's Resolution of "No Hookups" until Monday. If you're the kind of person who doesn't wish to read about casual sex, stop now.

I arrive at the hotel, aching for relaxation in the form of a bath. He arrives, startling me by opening up the bathroom door as I'm about to enter the vanilla cupcake bubblebath I prepared. I scream in embarrassment :) How funny of me to react so vocally. The jets create mounds of bubbles and I ease into the floaty sleeping luxury that is being immersed in water. New York City bathtubs should all aspire to be as wonderful. I chat with him, grinning from ear to ear, peering up at him from my very exposed position in the water...most of what I remember visually was a blur. I purr as he rubs my back, as painful as his relaxing touch was on my sore muscles are.

I remember shaking his hand, embracing him in a hug. I remember being pleased by his tongue and fingers and grabbing his hair, raising my hips off the bed. I remember putting him in restraints and tickling him, his writhing body exciting me and pressing up again my pussy.

I remember teasing his cock and after hours of teasing, sucking it into my mouth, eager to feel the length in my throat. I'm out of practice but I remember my techniques: engage the lips, the tongue, keep hydrated. I suck for hours, making up for months and yet my jaw isn't sore.

I remember being amused at his forgetfulness at the wedding band he wears; to mention it would disrupt the mood.

I remember his large hands rubbing at my back, his cock rubbing at my ass and I want him to mount me from behind. Seems like Extra Large condoms are never big enough...they're too tight. Or maybe it's been a while since he's used them. Or maybe he's simply afraid of the consequences. Or maybe I'm too small...when he opens me up, I'm afraid for a moment of the jarring tightness. I surely forget when he wakes me up in the middle of the night and I ride him and I don't feel the pains I do with my toys when I rock them as much as I did him. He uses my toy, not to jam it in me like the inexperienced boys I've been with but to play with me and I come for what seems like a very long time non-stop it's pulled out of me with no jarring spikes of lesser or greater pleasure.

I remember how good it is to hear a guy moan uncontrollably when he get to that point where he wants to gush into my mouth. I know the second time he is driven sololy by his cock and the motions I use with my gloved hand and tight lips and fast tongue. I know it because he can't speak and yet is driven to express something with his voice.

I wake up to his fingers brushing my face, hugging him before work and him telling me to not let anyone tell me that I'm not an amazing person. I can't remember his expression as I'm without my glasses and can barely keep my eyes open in the dim light. I am amazed that I do not have the feeling of being abandoned as I did with some previous encounters; I feel content.

I drifted in and out of sleep, starving but not ready to face this strange day where I had no set routine to worry about. It takes me 3 hours to get home and I can feel myself glowing, male eyes being drawn to me. I jump on WoW, play a little, go to my room to unpack and fall asleep at 7 to be woken in the middle of the night by rain.