Walking down Chapel
street, he never let go of my hand. He was
not bothered by being seen holding hands with another man.
Needless to say I was ecstatic be to living within this moment. This stranger I had met a mere few hours ago
had picked out me of all people. We
wandered down the road before finding a nice little café for breakfast. I love breakfast.
We sat across from
one another at a table just for two in the cutest little café that ever did
exist, I actually have absolutely no recollection of the café décor, I was
somewhat distracted by present company.
Expecting some of his overwhelming hotness to be a result of
nightclub lighting and vodka shots I was proven wrong. Even at nearly 7am after a night out dancing
this man was still freakishly perfect.
Sitting across from
him in complete admiration reality set in and I began to feel slightly
underwhelming, too afraid to glace at any reflective surface just in case I
looked worse than I imagined. Generally
after an 8 hour overnight shift I wasn’t exactly looking my best. He must have noticed my sudden realisation
and increasing discomfort because halfway through his full English breakfast he
stopped, started directly at me and demanded to know what was wrong.
I explained about how
worried I was that compared to him I looked like shit, in turn questioning why
he would even be interested when we had just left a club full of available
men. Without hesitation he started to laugh,
told me I was being silly then continued crunching down on his freshly cooked
bacon. Just like that, not even bothered
or displaced by my sudden burst of crazy.
We finished breakfast, he refused to allow me to pay and being a true
gentlemen, he even bought some pastries to go (THAT people is romance).
Standing out on the
street he was looking a little nervous, I think we were both unsure of our next
move. Thankfully he broke the silence…
“So, am I getting you a taxi home or did you want to come back to my hotel?” How was I going to say no after being treated
to a full breakfast. Trying to play it all cool, clam and collected I responded, “I guess I could come back to your
hotel.” Pretty sure the stupid grin
on my face gave me away though.
Arriving at the hotel
I started to get nervous, I had no idea what this boy was expecting or even
what I was expecting to happen. The room
was nice, comfy looking bed and huge bathroom with a shower large enough to fit
a small party. Half-jokingly I said how
badly I wanted to jump in the shower. He
was already two steps ahead. "That
was my plan if you wanted to join me.“
He said while walking toward the bathroom, removing his shirt in the
process. His torso was thick and dusted
with a fine layer of well groomed scruff.
Though his shirt and by watching him dance I already knew he was fairly
muscular but fuck me, his clothing had done no justice. I stood frozen as I watched his muscular back
disappear into the bathroom.
I stood there in the
centre of the room still trying to piece together what was unfolding in front
of me. “Well, are you coming in?” He called out through the sound of
running water. I walked sheepishly into
the bathroom and there he was, naked and surrounded by steam. His thighs just as thick and muscular as the
rest of him and with the same fine sprinkle of hair trailing down the arch of
his back to connect to a perfectly formed and rounded arse. He turned around to face me, water running
down that chest before dripping from a pleasingly low hanging and quite sizeable
cock. He just stood there, confident and
dangling. "You gonna just stand
there and just watch or you gonna get your arse in here?“ Snapping out of my state of shock I clumsily
removed my shirt and pants, fumbling with every damn button and zip. Standing there in front of him in only my
underwear I felt unsure, inadequate and vulnerable. Half of me wanted to turn and flee while the
other half beyond aroused.
He was looking right at me
not saying a world, unsure if he was pleased or disappointed with what he saw I
simply continued to stand there staring.
He stepped out from under the shower, still soaking wet wrapped those
muscular arms around my waist before pressing his lips against mine. We kissed for a few seconds before I finally
thought to reach up and return the embrace.
His hips were wide and skin felt warm and smooth. We continued to kiss now hard and pressed up
against one another, my underwear still in place but now soaking wet from the
water running off his body and no longer serving much purpose. He stopped and pulled back until our eyes met
then without breaking contact whispered "Fuck you are beautiful.”
For once I actually
believed those words. Standing there
exposed and wet I felt beautiful. I slid
my underwear down to my ankles and he lead me underneath the shower. The combination of his arms and the warm
water was comforting and soothing beyond belief.
We spent the next at
least half an hour together in the shower.
Talking, laughing and taking time to lather each other up with milk and
honey body wash, the aroma of which still fills me with such warm and comforting
memories. Both of us now well beyond clean and
finger tips well wrinkled, we exited the shower. He quickly dried himself before taking his
time to dry me, extra attention given to his favourite part of my body.
Satisfied I was
finally adequately dried off he picked me up onto his hips so my legs where
wrapped around his waist to carry me onto the bed. Everything started off fine and to say I was
enjoying myself is a bit of an understatement.
Everything he did was done with patience and care, he took his time with
each step making sure we both enjoyed the entire experience, not progressing
further too early. Kissing down my
stomach he stopped just above my navel, looked up to ask, “can I keep
going?”. I didn’t answer. I didn’t know the answer. He stopped and crawled back up to lay beside
me. Suddenly I was unsure and once more
began to feel uncomfortable naked. Getting
up from the bed I scrambled around to find my clothing, underwear still wet I
left them on the bathroom floor.
“Are you ok? Was
something wrong?”
I tried to explain but still didn’t have an exact reason for my sudden state
of panic. I tried to reassure him that
he was not a fault, but I simply needed to leave. He offered to call me a taxi but I refused to
accept any more kindness from this essentially perfect man. I thanked him for
an amazing morning, kissed him goodbye then made my exit, grabbing the brown
paper bag full of fresh pastries on my way out the door. Once last glance back before closing the door,
even sad he still looked perfect. What
was I doing?
Walking to the train
station I nearly turned back several times, still dumbfounded as to what on
earth I was thinking by leaving that hotel room. Once on the train, digging into the bag of
pastry it all started to sink in. I
wasn’t ready. My past was not yet
past. Intoxication had fooled me into
thinking I was but reality was sobering.
Sitting alone on the train I started to cry. Thankfully the train nearly empty on this
fine sunny Sunday morning and I was left alone the rest of the journey to sit
undisturbed and cry into a bag of baked goods.