Had met up with someone for a quick bite. Someone whom I used to see. He had, at a very young age, achieved the final frontier, he was promoted to the top position. But he's eying a position at Burning Man. He may get it. Then he would be home free. A born burner, he's been going there for over a decade. He lives off that shit, he was in D.C. last week and he met some people who took him to a burner's club. He was that devoted.
We used to see each other. He was one of the people I saw. We had incredibly good chemistry. I think positively the best. We saw each other often enough, just not end of August early September because I'd go on holiday and he'd be going to Burning Man.
He was creative but corporate. He was interesting and sophisticated. He and I had a very good arrangement. He was married, younger by a lot, and he was interested in a relationship free relationship.
We got along fabulously. He was giving. He was into all the kinky stuff and he was fascinated with anal sex with me. I did not let it happen, but for months he tried.
I always knew that it would be difficult to end that relationship. I had a weakness for blue eyes blond hair men, especially if they were Swedish. He was that.
But when it did end it came naturally because it ran its course.
I often wondered if I did not pull the plug would he? I thought the answer would be no. It was a perfect arrangement. He came to see me at my other place. We had the house to ourselves. We did drugs, had fun, smoked, drank, shoot the breeze and talked about work.
In the sexual relationship we formed it became clear to me very quickly that he loved sex, he would try to find opportunity to have sex with me, all the time. But our passion would one day fade, and I had to end it because I was in love with someone else, and I was sensing that I didn't want this to be a sexual relationship any more.
In his world, where life was not complicated and my existence as a lover meant that we were able to play on occasion, was also rather non complicated. What was complicated was the fact that I could not tell him anything about anyone else. Including the man I was in love with. As far as he knew, we had a good thing, he was my only outlet and I was content.
I often questioned my decision - not because I didn't want to see him any more, but because I had no real good reason terminate it other than I was in love with someone else.
I learned that he was to move soon - either to New York or London. With his wife. He'd be traveling to these places and then relocate.
I always knew this was going to end. I knew because I had pictured it.
Ever since I met him, I imagined that he'd take a job somewhere far and away, and he'd occasionally come back here, and we'd still meet up for a drink, and one day he'd move back and we'd resume like no time had passed.
Perhaps that was what I was good at, I liked these arrangements, to meet someone and then to leave them before they were bored, and forever and ever they'd stay in my life, as friends.
We used to see each other. He was one of the people I saw. We had incredibly good chemistry. I think positively the best. We saw each other often enough, just not end of August early September because I'd go on holiday and he'd be going to Burning Man.
He was creative but corporate. He was interesting and sophisticated. He and I had a very good arrangement. He was married, younger by a lot, and he was interested in a relationship free relationship.
We got along fabulously. He was giving. He was into all the kinky stuff and he was fascinated with anal sex with me. I did not let it happen, but for months he tried.
I always knew that it would be difficult to end that relationship. I had a weakness for blue eyes blond hair men, especially if they were Swedish. He was that.
But when it did end it came naturally because it ran its course.
I often wondered if I did not pull the plug would he? I thought the answer would be no. It was a perfect arrangement. He came to see me at my other place. We had the house to ourselves. We did drugs, had fun, smoked, drank, shoot the breeze and talked about work.
In the sexual relationship we formed it became clear to me very quickly that he loved sex, he would try to find opportunity to have sex with me, all the time. But our passion would one day fade, and I had to end it because I was in love with someone else, and I was sensing that I didn't want this to be a sexual relationship any more.
In his world, where life was not complicated and my existence as a lover meant that we were able to play on occasion, was also rather non complicated. What was complicated was the fact that I could not tell him anything about anyone else. Including the man I was in love with. As far as he knew, we had a good thing, he was my only outlet and I was content.
I often questioned my decision - not because I didn't want to see him any more, but because I had no real good reason terminate it other than I was in love with someone else.
I learned that he was to move soon - either to New York or London. With his wife. He'd be traveling to these places and then relocate.
I always knew this was going to end. I knew because I had pictured it.
Ever since I met him, I imagined that he'd take a job somewhere far and away, and he'd occasionally come back here, and we'd still meet up for a drink, and one day he'd move back and we'd resume like no time had passed.
Perhaps that was what I was good at, I liked these arrangements, to meet someone and then to leave them before they were bored, and forever and ever they'd stay in my life, as friends.
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