It had been over three weeks since I saw him last. Technically speaking not three weeks of not seeing him but three weeks since I last had sex with him. He was early, for our 6:30 dinner. He ran on the early side. It was the German side of him, always on time. I arrived shortly after after finding a parking space just behind him. He had this odd hair day. It was wavy and lengthy. It was semi gray and dirty blond, more blond than most men his age. He looked younger than 48 turing 49, He wore a checkered shirt and he looked happy to see me. We ordered and caught up. He told me about his new application, his work and his life. He offered very little. I told him about my latest adventures. He was interested in learning that I did not have a thing for rich men. A friend from a long time ago told a story at a party about how I turned down on men when they appeared boring, even though they had a lot of money. I told him that I liked intellectual men. Rich men who did not know much about the world bored me. They fought for my affection but failed because they did not do it for me. I liked intellectual stimulation.
We ordered food and ate quickly. He was laughing a lot and generally in good mood. I think seeing me made him happy. I did not know how he was with others, but whenever I was with him he seemed relaxed and happy, and he was more interested in discussing anything and everything with me.
At his place he kissed me and I went down on him while he was sitting down. He hiked up my dress and fucked me while I was kneeling down.
Then he led me to the bathtub, as I laid there, he stripped off his clothes and started to piss on me. He showered me with hot piss which excited me greatly. Then he kissed my piss covered mouth and face and entered me.
Soon we went to the shower to clean up in his master bedroom. How much loved fucking me. How good I looked with a little weight on me. I was not as hard as before because I was not working out as much. I was softer, and when I gained weight, it showed on my boobs. He liked kissing and sucking on them when we were in a shower. He fucked me some more in the shower as I knelt down to give him a blow job. He then got me to stand up so he could fuck me some more. We then went to his bed to continue our sex. He fucked me some, all the while talking. He told me how much he loved me. I did love him. But I loved the concept of loving him more. He told me, slowly about his messing around while traveling. He told me about the women he fucked in Boston, in Florida. "Is that okay?" He asked. I told him that it was fine. I did not mind him having sex with other women. I would only worry if he did not love me any more. or want me any more. He assured me that he always wanted me. He liked that we were together. He told me that he belonged to me. Like I was his owner and he was my pet. I knew that he loved me because he knew that I felt that I belonged to him.
I told him that I want to be with him forever. Like in forever, Like in taking care of him when he's sick. He said, like sitting on his cock and fuck him. I said, that too. He asked if I was happy with the arrangement. I said no. He asked if I wanted to divorce my husband and marry him. He wanted me to marry him. That was a new thing. He wanted to hear that I wanted to be married to him. "Tell me that you want to me to marry you." He said as he climaxed. He told me that he's never felt this way about anyone. He liked that I did not mind that he fucked other women while he traveled. I told him that even if we were married I would not mind that. I don't mind that because I know that part of him will always be there. He liked fucking other women for sports. But he wanted to feel loved and he wanted to feel be loved by someone.
He asked if I cooked. I told him that I used to but not any more. "I don't care if you know how to cook or not." To him that was not important. To him, what's important was my body to be little heavier, and that I had more meat. He liked my body soft and plump. He liked when I had a little fat on me. He liked bigger women I think, not obese but just slightly plump.
I know men more than I let on.
Most men feel uncomfortable about revealing that they have more than partners. He does not see himself as having multiple lovers. He called it "mess around". He is okay if I had other lovers.
He's never been married. He felt closer to me than others. He thinks that me leaving my husband and be married to him is something exotic and ultimately a turn on for him. I don't think he'll want to do that to be exact, but he wants to explore it psychologically. It's like saying the word "I love you". It took two years for him to say it as if he's always said it. It seemed an ultimate fantasy that he needed to explore with me, beside fucking me in the ass.
It felt like a milestone in a sense, just like when he first told me that he loved me I cried and it made an impression, for him to ask me while fucking me to marry him is a nice turn on. It bears some level of intimacy for him to ask me if I wanted to leave my husband, and the interpretation of being together forever meant taking the final plunge of being married to him. It seemed like a novelty concept. One that is worth exploring during sex.
I excused myself to clean up after he had come. I fell soundly asleep embraced by him. His fingers interlocking mine. I had never been a normal person. I loved sex. I loved having sex with him. I loved being with him. I no longer was infatuated with him. I was coming to terms as to who I was at the core.
I had never felt the same level of intensity when I fucked others. I could go on doing that. But on occasion I liked feeling. I liked what love could bring to the table. I fantasized being with him, until the end. And I think the feeling is mutual. I do not know how to get there, I do not have a timeline but I know my happiness was going to be with him.
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