He wanted to see me more often. He said, once a week. That's the best balance. I thought that it would be too often. I couldn't possibly do that, it would make it more or less like a regular thing, a real relationship. Unlike his other relationship, which he has been maintaining before I came along, which he only limits their interaction to once a week, and a bona fide booty call, I felt that this one could mean something to him. I was uncomfortable with that.
We spoke to each other often. He remembered when I saw him last, what we did and where we went. We also did things, went out on expeditions, traveled to the cities around the bay area, and I even met some of his friends. Good friends, close friends. That felt more like a relationship, and I didn't want it to be a relationship.
When I was away, he wrote, sometimes lengthier than others, and he would tell me things about his life and what he thought what I was doing was either good or bad or indifferent. When I told him that I had rented a car, he wrote, "I hope the car comes with a baguette rack." He was funny that way.
He was quite content and happy with my proactiveness for a while, and then when I stopped being that way, he wanted more of that, I knew that I could be something, someone to him, but I was worried that I would break his heart.
When I appeared at his place, he looked me up and down, and help my arm straight out and he kissed me gently. He said that I was always so presentable, beautiful and adorable. There I stood on my four inch heels, and he was looking me up and down, and then he wanted to kiss me. He thought kissing me would make me less nervous but I didn't want to feel relaxed.
When I sat on top of the arm rest of a couch, he kneeled down and kissed my inside, parting my red and black sheer lingerie. He approached it carefully and delicately; all the while he looked up at me and made sure that I was comfortable with it.
I was aroused, all of sudden, and despite the fact we last made love two weeks ago, and despite the fact that I thought I should stay loyal to one person, and one person only, I was thinking perhaps I was holding myself loyal to a person who did not care about me, and care about whether I slept with others. So why should I be depriving myself of physical pleasure.
When the evening ended and morning started, he made breakfast and coffee, and we chatted about our week and days ahead. I was never going to be in an exclusive relationship with him, but when I was with him, I knew there would be a next week and he would be there, for me.
We spoke to each other often. He remembered when I saw him last, what we did and where we went. We also did things, went out on expeditions, traveled to the cities around the bay area, and I even met some of his friends. Good friends, close friends. That felt more like a relationship, and I didn't want it to be a relationship.
When I was away, he wrote, sometimes lengthier than others, and he would tell me things about his life and what he thought what I was doing was either good or bad or indifferent. When I told him that I had rented a car, he wrote, "I hope the car comes with a baguette rack." He was funny that way.
He was quite content and happy with my proactiveness for a while, and then when I stopped being that way, he wanted more of that, I knew that I could be something, someone to him, but I was worried that I would break his heart.
When I appeared at his place, he looked me up and down, and help my arm straight out and he kissed me gently. He said that I was always so presentable, beautiful and adorable. There I stood on my four inch heels, and he was looking me up and down, and then he wanted to kiss me. He thought kissing me would make me less nervous but I didn't want to feel relaxed.
When I sat on top of the arm rest of a couch, he kneeled down and kissed my inside, parting my red and black sheer lingerie. He approached it carefully and delicately; all the while he looked up at me and made sure that I was comfortable with it.
I was aroused, all of sudden, and despite the fact we last made love two weeks ago, and despite the fact that I thought I should stay loyal to one person, and one person only, I was thinking perhaps I was holding myself loyal to a person who did not care about me, and care about whether I slept with others. So why should I be depriving myself of physical pleasure.
When the evening ended and morning started, he made breakfast and coffee, and we chatted about our week and days ahead. I was never going to be in an exclusive relationship with him, but when I was with him, I knew there would be a next week and he would be there, for me.
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