March
17th 2001
It’s been a year and 3 months
since I last had sex, pitiable as it sounds it is so true. You would probably
wonder why. Am I not pretty enough to get a date, or did I go raving mad into a
vow of celibacy?
Well, it was a little of both
actually. It started with a simple vow of celibacy to my self, that the next
time I would do it; it would be with my husband on my wedding night. Such vows
we make in our pursuit to win over our soul mates. That sadly, lasted for only a
year thanks to my lack of will power.
However, I didn’t break the vow by
having sex, I broke it by deciding that I WANTED sex no matter what and with
whoever that would care to oblige me…then I met him: My boyfriend, Brian.
We met on a cruise 2 months ago---in
one of my desperate efforts to meet somebody I had won a vacation to the Islands.
He has soft opaque green eyes, a sensual voice that sounds like the rustling of
leaves in mid-autumn, and a strong chiseled body like a female sculptor carved
out the object of her amorous affection. He is near perfect in his manners, his
kindness, and his will to make me happy at all costs, but he doesn’t want to
sleep with me. Sad, but true.
Why, I have often asked? Why
doesn’t he want to make love to me? Am I not good enough? Is he saving me for
something? Or is he saving him self for something?
Not that we don’t do everything in
our power to try to have sex, we do. But when it comes to the final step that
would appropriately converge our viewpoints on each other, Brian would find an
excuse to leave me hanging, wanting, and hurting. He has done this one time too
many times, and I am left with that questioning look that begs all these
questions and more, wet panties and a sour mood to go home with.
What do I do?
March
18th
I decided to lure Brian into my Web
to day, arouse him with consuming passions, and entice him to intoxication, so
much that he would not be able to find the feet strong enough to walk away and
leave me hanging.
My best friend, Jamie had devised a
plan for me to use on him. It is an evil conniving one but I daresay; she has
outdone even me in picking a deed so deceitful. After she had narrated it to me
several times over, demonstrated and obliged a personal image for me to use in
my case study, I still had doubts in my mind that this would lead Brian into my
bed.
“He is not like that, he has not
seemed that way to me for the past 2 months since I have known him.”
But I made her a solemn promise to give it a try and indeed as they say a
beggar has no choice in matters that have no resolution. I decided that this
matter would have a resolution, a somewhat ill-times resolution but one
nonetheless.
7.30pm:
Brian picks me up for dinner at my
place, punctual as usual. His strong perfume caresses my nostrils as I hug him
at the door, I squeeze a bit tighter to feel his manliness rub up against my
body, pressing my breasts on his well-framed chest. He does not respond, neither
does his member. He just smiles like a teenager who has been caught sneaking a
peek at an X-rated film.
“Are you ready?” he asked,
staring at my sheer laced flimsy dress.
“Yes, I am. Let me grab my jacket
though?” I hurried off to the closet. He mumbled something to himself as I was
gone and I couldn’t quite make out what it was, but it sounded like, “Is she
wearing that?”
I ignore the statement, since he
hadn’t had the guts to confront me as to the inappropriateness of my dress,
then why should I really be bothered about it. My plan was set and a quarrel
would only ruin the arrangements and set it off course. We couldn’t risk that
now could we?
At the restaurant, I ask for a
corner booth, Brian looks at me in surprise, like I had swallowed a gulp of
brandy by mistake and was speaking with hazy thoughts and muffled breaths. The
waiter asks for a confirmation from the gentleman, and Brian replies, “We
would like our normal table, please.”
I grit my teeth, and make a mental
note in my head, crossing out the first step: First step, proved abortive by
reserved gentleman.
During dinner, I place my hand
firmly on Brian’s lap, rubbing it along the length of his inner thigh. Brain
does not respond; he does not wince at my advances either. He keeps his eyes
straight at my face, and occasionally makes comments on how beautiful I look.
Like I haven’t heard that a million times already, Show me, I say, show me.
:
After dinner, we go for a walk in
the park. I had no game plan for that. I suggested we go dancing, but Brian says
he has a slight headache and would not take to loud music very well.
I respect his ailment and take his hand like a shy schoolgirl walking in
the park with her professor.
We walk for an hour and I suggest we
go to his place for a nightcap. “I want to tuck you in,” I say. Brian
smiles, and replies, “Baby, you’re so caring.”
He has no idea what I have in mind.
At this point neither do I?
9.35pm:
At his place, I place him on the
couch and launch my mouth on his as I begin to kiss him, frantically. I place
his hands on my breast and use it to outline the line of my lacy bra, he tries
to pull away from my grip but I press on. I mount my self on top of him and
spread my legs around his sitting frame, positioning my buttocks on top of his
crotch.
First of all, I must tell you that
Brian’s kisses are the best. He starts by licking up and down your mouth and
then he slowly penetrates your mouth with the tip of his tongue, when he has
made way into your mouth, he goes to lick up and down your tongue, teasing its
tip and trailing its length. It is more than exciting, it has become consuming.
Why he has chosen to tease me with his enticing kisses that are enough to please
but fall short of complete closure is the puzzle I aim to solve tonight?
Brian and I kiss for an age, his
hands placed on my breasts, then as I slowly try to move it down to my panties,
Brian tries to pull his hands back but I keep my grip firm. He succeeds in
taking his hands away from mine and places it on my ass, at the crack on my
buttocks. I rejoice to my self, “Better, now we are getting somewhere.”
I then move onto the demonstration,
Jamie had achingly volunteered to me countless times over. I pull my mouth away
from his and venture towards his rising member, that I feel bulging and
throbbing in between his pants. I kiss his neck; lick the sides of his ears, and
trail the kiss down his shoulder blade, before I move down to his pants. I start
to unbutton his pants, rubbing my nose on it longingly, when a shrill voice
stops my concentration, “Aphie, what are you doing?”
I look up, mesmerized, “Was I
doing the wrong thing, or was I doing it wrongly?” This I wonder at first to
myself before muttering a reply, “Honey, you know what I’m doing?”
He lifts up my face from his crotch
and slowly places it in front of his, just like when we were kissing.
“Don’t, please, you don’t have
to do that.” He says, almost in a whisper, so kindly I am flushed with
embarrassment.
“Bri, what is it? I want to.” I
avoid his gaze.
He pulls me forward and kisses my
nose, my mouth, my eyes, and my forehead, his mouth moist and warm. “I think
we should go to sleep. You’ve had too much to drink tonight.” He kisses me
again, this time a small consoling lingering tongue in my mouth to appease my
tingling insides.
He holds me up from him as he goes
to the bedroom to retrieve my nightgown, some blankets, pillows and beddings.
He then goes on to make a nice
comfortable sleeping mat on the living room next to the fireplace.
He asks, “You want to wash up
before you change?”
I am still in shock; my heart just
jumped into my stomach and is burning a hole through my intestines. I barely
nod. He leaves me to change, excusing him self like a perfect gentleman that he
is, and I sit on the couch, staring at the fireplace.
My heart is bleeding from the inside
out. My head has doubled and my mouth is quivering in pain, making my teeth
gnash. Why was he doing this to me? Why didn’t he want me as much as I wanted
him? Am I too boring for him? I
stare at the flickering flame sending sparks in the fireplace in despair, and I
cross out in my mind: Plan failed, subject unwilling. I get up to wash for bed.
March
19th
By the time I wake up Brian is
already up. I can hear him making noise in the kitchen. Soon after I hear
footsteps and humming as he approaches me on the living room floor.
“Look who’s up?’ he cheered.
“Want some breakfast, I made your faves, pancakes.”
I wipe my face and oblige him a
small smile. I am still bitter from the night’s events so I don’t want him
thinking I have forgiven him.
We eat breakfast in pitch silence.
He occasionally looks up to my face for a response or comment of some sort, and
I ignore his glare, munching on my food like my life depended on it.
After breakfast, he offers that we
go down to the market, do some window-shopping and browse the library like we
often do on Sundays.
No reply to that as I would rather
eat a strangled cat than carry on our humdrum routinely paced relationship.
“I am sorry,” he apologizes,
after he sees the tears well up in my eyes. “It’s too complicated, you
wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” I beg. He kneels in
front of me, and wipes away my tears. Gently, he proceeds to kiss my face again,
like he did last night. I stop him with my hands, “No, tell me. Tell me why
you don’t want me?”
He heaves a sigh of relief; his
heart beat rising its tempo from the look on his heaving chest, and his eyes
look around the room for a fixture to glare on. “I do want you. But I am not
sure if you’d want me after…” he trailed off.
I pushed forward to let the words
drop off into my ears. “After what…”
He gets up, stands in front of my
face, his crotch to my face, an inch from my mouth. “After this.” He unzips
his pants, and reveals his penis. Unfortunately, my knight has only one scrotum.
I start to suffocate. My eyes start
to water and burn as the vision of my perfect man being marred by this deformity
starts to anger and frustrate me. Why him? Why can’t he be, perfect like I
want him to be?
When I fail to respond to his
ill-formed member, he zips it back up and proceeds back to the kitchen. I get up
and follow him, my steps heavy and shaking from the revelation.
“Honey..” I start, like I have
something intelligent to say.
“It happened a year ago. It was a
football accident. I know how you women are obsessed with the beauty of it so I
tend to keep it to my self. No one has seen it yet, except you. Maybe, I like
you too much.” He shrugs, bending his face at the coffee table.
I run to him and embrace him, my
hands shaking but the grip on him firmed my composure.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I
like you too. I...I… was just horny,” I confessed. That was the real reason
behind my randy calm; I was just a good ole’ fashioned horny lady. “I was
horny and I wanted to have you so bad. Can you forgive me?”
His heart beat on my chest made me
feel remorseful at my selfish insatiable wants. I should have waited maybe it
wouldn’t have hurt this bad instead I had sort him like a ravage bitch dog in
heat.
He whispers, “I’m horny too,
there’s nothing wrong in that. It’s just that, you went about it wrong,
baby. We would have done it, I was just waiting for the perfect time.”
He was right, my timing was too
urgent and pressing like I needed it to breathe or to let our relationship
survive. Sex is no more essential than watching television. It only becomes a
part of you when you make it an absolute necessity. And I had for some strange
incomprehensible reason. “I’m sorry.” I apologized again, squeezing his
frame into mine.
Looking up at me, he asked, “What
were you trying to do last night?” Offering a coy smile that leads me to
believe now would be a perfect time to practice my lessons from Jamie on him, I
bend down to my knees and I unzip his pants with my mouth.
Slowly, I bring out his member with
my hand and I place it in my moist mouth, wrapping my tongue around its smooth
pale shaft. I hear him yearn in pleasure as I suck in the pre-cum, tracing the
delicate curves of his cap with my tongue and I confirm that I might have hit a
home run. He places his hand to the back of my head, and guides it back and
forth as I proceed to lick up and down his throbbing sizeable penis. With
occasional bouts of pleasure and excitement, I guide Brian to his first orgasm
in my mouth; I even have time to softly stroke the lone scrotum with my fingers,
patting them gently to massage, guide and lead them along our amorous journey.
When I am finished, he drops on his knees, panting, flushed and delightfully
smirking and then he kisses me voraciously in deep gratitude of the blissful
place my mouth just took him.
Dear diary, I would love to fill you
in on the details of the intense, emulsifying lovemaking that we embarked on all
day but I am too elated and respectful of our union and so for once, I think I
would keep the details to my self.
End of entry.