Time will tell

He does what he does and when he misses me it feels genuine enough at times. He goes in and out of my life but when he's in it, he tells me that he loves me very much. 

A raining evening. He arrived late. He said from D.C., he had a proposal to do with the department of energy. He left on Saturday and returned late evening on Tuesday. I had not seen him for sometime, and had not been intimate with him for sometime. 

He stood there and I unzipped his pants so that I could get him hard with my mouth. The way he embraced me was quite instinctual, he embraced with his taking of me, by force. He did not ask for permission. I'm just his. He grabbed my ass and my breasts and claimed them. It was always that way. A sense of urgency, a sense of togetherness. 

"What does 'I love you' mean?" I asked.

"It's a feeling. I've never felt it before. I miss you. When I'm not with you. I think about you. I only want to be with you." He explained. He explained some more but I was drifting into sleep. 

But before I drifted, I remembered him saying that he'd never felt that before. That feeling of in love. He said that previously when he was in a relationship he often got bored. He stopped wanting to have sex. But with me, he wanted still and it grew. I wanted to tell him that he had a bad reputation. He stopped me. He did not want to hear. He said that he knew what I was referring to but he did not want to talk about it. 

He called me a cynic. I was being cynical that evening. I asked a lot of questions and disputed his theory of love. I did not believe that he could possibly be in love with me, not that constant love but love that made one's heart hurt. I couldn't express myself. I listened and told him that I was unable to describe how I felt in words. I  was better at writing it down, because when I talked to him about it, it felt forced. I couldn’t admit to him that when I thought of him, it felt that my heart was breaking. If that was love then I’d rather not be in love. Shouldn’t we feel happy and not sad?

He liked to hurt me. That was always part of our dynamic. He liked to force himself into me. I liked that. When he finally was tired, he folded me into him, in that spooning position we slept, and in the middle of the evening he and I would change our sleeping position. Sometimes I would put my head on his chest and in that position we slept. He would tell me that he loved me. He would then tell me about the other women he occasionally had sex with. What they looked like and how they liked to be fucked. He knew that I told others about him. About how he liked to piss in my mouth, my pussy, hair and drench me, and he asked if that turned others on. I told him, no, most of my guy friends find it disturbing. They did not want to hear anything about him. They refused to acknowledge my relationship with him.

“Is our relationship real?” I asked.

“Yes. I only love you. It’s real.” I made a cat purring like noise and then rested my head on his chest.

Early in the morning he put his cock in my mouth and then he jammed it inside of my pussy. He sometimes would withhold himself in the evening and not come until we made love again in the morning. He loved the way I gave head. I thought that it was because I had a lot of practice.

He wanted to know how those men and I fucked. I told him that one guy liked to go down on me. He had ginormous cock. He would make me squirt. Another liked to put his finger in my ass, and as he went down on me he also put a vibrator on my clit. He was excited as I described my sexual act with others to him. He told me that he liked that I had a lot of men in my past, and that I was very sexual. He said that he couldn’t believe that he was fucking a hot girl like me and that despite the fact that I was married I chose him.

“You like that I am married. No chance of real attachment. No chance of making it permanent.” I said.

He said that he did not mind that I was married.

But in the middle of fucking he asked me “Baby do you want to get married to me?” I answered, “No, because you will never get married.” He corrected me, “I have not been married.” I told him that to me, marriage did not necessarily affect a relationship. It had to be the right kind of relationship. Marriage is just a certificate. It’s not the marriage license that we needed to be concerned about. It’s how we feel about each other.

I woke up in the middle of the night to pee. When I got back into the bed, he grabbed me and spooned me tight. I could hardly breathe under his hold. He grabbed my hands with his own and he tightly wrapped me with arms and legs.

He shared with me his travel plan for the summer. He would be in Europe when I was in Europe. He would be going on a tropical vacation with his friends and his son. He was flying to Los Angeles on Friday to meet up with his best friend, when I was going to be in L.A. “Are you going to talk to him about me?” I asked. I had met and worked with his bestie many years ago. “Of course.” He said.

He woke up early as usual. I did not want to leave. I asked if he had a spare key that I could use to lock up. He found a key and an envelope. He asked me to lock up carefully because he won’t be back for another week and half.

“Where are you going?” I asked while I was half asleep.

“You know, conferences and such.” He was not being specific.

I reminded him about the up and coming lecture. He had agreed to go. I bought the tickets months and months ago. But he seemed a bit noncommittal.

He asked me to wear a wig the next time we fuck. He wanted to fuck me in a wig. “Do you just want to fuck another person?” I asked.

“No, I just want to fuck you in a wig.” He answered.

I knew why he liked having sex with me. I was more or less a sex toy to him. I did exactly what he wanted to do, he could do anything to me, and I enjoyed being used. Like I enjoyed going down on him and I enjoyed giving head to him, I enjoyed being tied up or pissed on.

I told him that I did not do such things with others. I was never like this with others. With him, it’s different. It felt that I was brought to this world so that I could please him.

I asked him when he felt that he loved me. He said that it evolved over time. But he knew this was love because it was different than other relationship he’s had. Apparently love could grow over time. Apparently he loves me. Now I need to see if he really means it. I know that I’d do anything for him. But would he really mean it? 

I suppose time will tell.