Olek: two years

Olek and I will be celebrating our second anniversary this month. We came together under very unorthodox conditions, as you may recall.

I went to his place tonight, to bake goodies to give to family.  He's had a cough for about a week and I just got smacked with tonsilitis again recently; and we have an intense final exam coming up soon (neither of us is prepared!).  But it was so good to get away from most of those stresses, even if for just a few hours.  I love that we can do this; that we can be together and actively enjoy being together.

To give some more context, I've had the worst two months of my life yet.  Family problems, physical ailments and injuries, stress from school, having to miss work and not making as much money...  Had a few pretty scary panic attacks along the way, too; almost got to the point of convincing myself to end it all.  Almost.

And still I can let myself be myself--actively be myself--and enjoy Olek's company.

When we'd finished baking, cleaning and packing everything up, we went to cuddle in his room.  We hadn't see each other in days--we usually see each other at least five days a week--and wanted to just enjoy being together, not necessarily sexually.

A year ago, we would have battled our lust awkwardly, never quite taking one side or the other, teasing each other, followed by regretting it slightly; teasing some more, wanting to undo it.  It wasn't damaging, just awkward.  And yet, today, we just let it progress, slowly, but there was no awkwardness.

We lay together, still clothed, our bodies pressed up against each other.  Our fingertips touched one another's face, caressing softly, both feeling our self and the other.  I kissed along his neck, giving him goosebumps; a long, wet lick up the side, followed by small nibbles and more kisses.  I held his arms down while I continued, gently; always feeling his responses to my touch as I nibbled his neck and pulled on his hair.

"If you had a cock, I would love to suck on it," he said breathily.  I moaned into his ear, licking.

"Can I lick your breasts?" he asked.

I sat up and removed my shirt.  His hands slid up my thighs, my torso, unclasping my bra and removing it.  Gently, he rolled me onto my back and pressed my breast into his mouth, sucking.  I love the way he licks my nipples: soft and flickering, but ravenous, with a hunger.

"One day," I managed between breaths, "I want--"  I lost my focus, temporarily overwhelmed.

"Yes?" he asked wickedly between mouthfuls.

"I want--I want you to tie and hold me down while you lick my nipples."  Not a secret between us.

We came to a natural end--sometimes my nipples just get too sensitive to receive any more pleasure.  We talked about taking turns being tied down while the other sucked on nipples or cock.  I moaned appreciatively.  He lightly slapped my bum.


It surprises me sometimes how far we've come and what we've incorporated into our intimacy: hair-pulling, nibblings, spanking, a little bondage and not-quite-flogging.  I don't think we're a "kinky couple", but I love that we can express ourselves with these actions--they're not taboo, they're not necessarily scandalous or dirty.

Some kisses make me feel like a special princess.  Some kisses make me want to thrust my nipples into his mouth.  Some kisses make me want to bend over and take it.  Some kisses do a combination of the above, and some kisses do something else entirely!

Similarly, sometimes a little spank makes me feel special; or sexy; or naughty; or empowered; or "on the receiving end".  If I hadn't experienced it, I might think that spanking can make only one kind of reaction ("You're naughty! *spank!*").  But for me and Olek, it's another tool for expressing ourselves.  And after two years, it's a lot less awkward than when we first started!  We're only getting better and better at communicating and expressing ourselves to each other.

Andre - Part One

I promised before that I'd write about Andre. It's a bit of a long story, and there's no definite end other than the fact I haven't seen him since this past summer.

A lot of this is stitched together from fragments of memories and what I recorded in my journals. Some of the timeline is confused. Some details are added in retrospect, some details have been forgotten. This is an exercise I try to perform with myself every year, remembering that summer in all its beauty...


We met in Kingston, ON in July 2009. At that time, I was still "with" JM, a boy I'd met on the bus to university.

Quick summary: About four days before I left for Kingston, JM and I made out in a bathroom, and then decided we liked each other enough to try to keep in touch while I was away for the next four months. We agreed to "keep things open" though, considering how little we knew about each other and how unfair it would be to claim we were "in a relationship". The first weekend into my course, most of our course went out drinking. GK, a man from our course, danced with me, and then started kissing me. I wasn't sure where I wanted to go with that, so I stopped. About a month later, I went drinking with some Reg Force guys. CV, a Reg Force line tech, and I shared a cab back to shacks. He walked me to my room to make sure I'd be allright. And somehow we ended up on the bed and he was licking my nipples. He wasn't doing a good job, so I flipped him over and showed him how it's done. By that point I had sobered up a little, and gently convinced him to leave.

This brings us to mid-late July.

My father had taken ill. Mom called me on the weekend to tell me. My roommate saw me shoving my face into a towel, trying not to let Mom know I was crying. It was bad. Dad had some kind of infection and his body was so deep in shock that he lost his vision. The doctors had given him a "50/50" chance after looking him over. They didn't know what was wrong, they suspected a blood infection.

I went home for a week to visit him.

While I was at home, I took the opportunity to visit JM as well. We were both virgins at penetrative sex. (I had touched a penis (sexually) twice in my life and he had received a blowjob once.) We went to his place and I told him I wanted to have penetrative sex. He asked if I was sure, I confirmed, and he went to fetch a condom. When he returned, he was limp, and despite all efforts, we couldn't get him stiff enough to even get the condom on. We shrugged it off. In retrospect, it was the best thing that could have happened (but more on that later).

My father got slightly better, and I returned to Kingston to complete my course.

While I had been away, another course arrived. And on this course was a man named Andre. He looked to be, at least in his thirties. His smile was young, but the lines, the greying hair, and the sadness you could sometimes see on his face or in his eyes, it all contradicted with his seemingly youthful attitude to life. He struck me as a man who had experienced "the finer things of life" and decided he wanted it simple afterall.

As it happened, I wasn't far off. He was thirty-nine that year (as a Gemini, he'd already had his birthday by then), and used to be a salesman. I wouldn't find out until later, but he had been a very successful salesman and had enjoyed wealth and the experiences it availed; staying in luxury hotels and ordering any dish on the merest whim... But he got sick of the lifestyle, quit his job and joined the Army. I'd also find out, he had three children.

But none of this mattered, partly because I didn't know at the time, and partly because it just didn't matter anyway. Well, to be honest, I was curious about his age, so I stole a glance at his military ID.

He introduced himself to me when I returned to Kingston.

"I don't think we've met."
"I'm Charlie."
"Well Charlie, I'm Andre."
"Hi Andre."

It was bewildering to me at the time why someone would introduce himself that way. I was flattered but confused at the structure and....forwardness.

Thinking back now, I can barely remember how we got to know each other in those early days...

One weekend, we went to see the Kingston Symphony Orchestra perform Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture at Fort Henry (which I thought was extremely poetic).

Andre drove a European SUV: leather upholstery, sunroof, digitally controlled seats you could move by pushing buttons... I'm not a "car-person", but feeling that engine was one of the most exhilarating+luxurious+empowering things I'd ever felt. Plus, he was a decent driver, though he'd be a jerk sometimes and speed up just so someone couldn't pass him.

We took photos around Fort Henry. I enjoyed making canon-penis poses. At one point, I got dizzy looking down a flight of stairs. Andre offered me his hand.

The orchestra played. It was beautiful. And there were cannons and fireworks, and it was brilliant.

Andre loved it so much, he also went the second night. Back at shacks, I didn't know where he'd gone. I think I might have known he was going again and maybe was under the impression he wanted to take me again. Whatever it was, I wanted to get a hold of him, so I wrote him a note and stuck it to his room door. It had my phone number.

My roommate, since she lived nearby, had gone home for the weekend. Later that night, Andre came by my room.

"I knew you'd write me a note. Well, that's not true--I had hoped. I had really, really hoped you would write me a note today." We talked briefly. I don't remember anymore. Somewhere in there, I may have mentioned I like giving and receiving back rubs, but a lot of people seem to think it's strange to do that with a stranger or even acquaintance, so I have nobody to receive from. Andre said he'd be fine with that.

One night, a bunch of us went to a pub to hang out. We talked and talked and talked. We came back to shacks and talked. Finally, we got sleepy and began leaving. Andre said, "Goodnight, sweetheart."

Some nights later, a bunch of us went drinking. It was the night that started everything in motion.

It was a mess trying to find a good place to drink, but we did, and eventually Andre and I cabbed back to shacks. He asked if it was "backrub time", so I obliged and spread a sheet over a spare bed. He lay himself down and I started on his upper back. Somewhere in there, his shirt disappeared and I didn't fight it except to say it would be rough without oil (I didn't have any).

Then he started playing with my feet, giving them a little massage at the same time. Eventually he rolled onto his back and we just started talking, trailing our hands over eachother a little.

He told me he had liked me from the instant he saw me, that it was magnetic, he was drawn to me. I had gained a lot of his respect very quickly, which was very strange because he is often skeptical of people and others often have to do something extraordinary to earn that level of respect from him.

He also wondered why I "chose" him--reminding me of PMK from my BMQ/SQ. What about him made this--snuggling--allowable to me?

Andre said he'd been single for a long time, because he's very picky and doesn't want a girl whom he can just pick up at a bar--he doesn't want sex, and if sex is so easy, there's almost no point. He doesn't think he could sleep with a perfect stranger. I half-agreed, telling him a little about my history...

We continued laying, skimming our hands across eachother and chatting. I mentioned again that in my head is a remnant of the "shy fat girl" personality from earlier years. He then went on to extol my virtues, including that I'm smart and attractive. I laughed only a little. He gave me such praise, it was so painful: "I am so lucky. The luckiest man in the world could not ask for what you are willing to give me",  "You're an angel",  "You're a doll."

I brought up--it was on topic but I can't remember now why--how I thought penises are gross. I lied a little though: my curiosity was beginning to at least equal and perhaps surpass my repulsion, for most things; I exaggerated how much they freaked me out. He posed a question to me: "So if I were to place your hand here on my pants, what would you do?"

Initially, I didn't understand. "I'd probably punch you in the face and throw you out of my room."

He laughed. He meant in a mutually permissive and exploratory way. I told him I didn't want to find out that night. I was thinking about JM.

We snuggled a lot. He took off my bra from under my shirt. I refused at first to let him kiss me, but then allowed him to kiss me so long as he understood I would never kiss him in return. He would try to touch my breasts and I would deny him. "It'd be worth it, breaking my thumbs, for just a touch."

We found a position where we'd support the other's head with the arm closest to the other.

"I'd rather use the strength from lifting my head to instead lift yours."
"I like that," I said.
"Are you comfortable?" he asked. I paused.
"I could become comfortable," I replied.
"You mean it?" He sounded eager.
"Wait, what?" I was confused. "What do you mean?"

Somewhere in that confusion, I explained, "I have someone back home. Now, you and I can either have something entirely physical and that would be the end of it, or continue as close friends." He said he'd much rather take the friends part.

"We're being intimate right now, not necessarily sexual. ... Last night, after I said goodbye, I went back to my room and just lay there, thinking I should go back. But then I thought, if I went back and knocked on your door, you'd ask, 'What do you want?' And I wouldn't know how to reply. 'To spend more time with you'? 'To be in your company'? 'To get to know you better', 'to just hang out with you'? I just didn't have an answer."

We continued until we both drifted off. We slept in the same bed with one sheet and one blanket.

He'd snore, though; and I'd freak out lest someone hear us and suspect a man in my room. I woke a few times: 0600, then 0700, then someone's alarm went off and I started. Around 0730 we both woke up ("I love waking next to you, feeling your warmth, your skin, your muscles") and started touching eachother some more. It got sexual fast, I guess that happens easily in the morning. He made his way to my breasts, my nipples, started sucking on them, using his tongue to circle around them. He tried his teeth a few times, but I'd recoil, and he got the idea. I'd wrapped a leg around him, and he had a thigh between my legs, which I started grinding into. Then he shifted so that he was pressing his crotch into my thigh.

I could feel him getting hard through his pants when he pressed into me. He started moaning, said, "Oh yes" a few times and--I'm not sure if he came. I didn't feel a wet spot, I think, but he was wearing pants... I just remember his hips bucking slightly, his grip tightening, I think I heard him say "Oh god", then he slowed down, then took a few moments to himself and went back to work on my nipples.

I showed him my preferred technique, which unfortunately ended up burning out my left nipple for a while. We cooled off, laying with eachother, calming down and regaining ourselves.

Then he realised he had to take a leak, but it wouldn't make sense for him to come back to my room after--too risky. We parted ways and he called me Sweetheart again.



JM and I fought over this. I found it stupid, considering we agreed to keep things open. Had I been honest with myself, I would have admitted that I didn't like GK or CV and that's why I didn't continue with them. But I liked Andre. He was a gentleman, he didn't take and he was always..... curious, gauging my responses. He made me feel like he was listening to everything.

At the time I was undecided, but now I just hate the way JM would rush in like he knew everything about how I wanted to be touched all the time. I hated it.

I told JM I didn't want to lose him over Andre, but that I needed companionship out here. It's very hard to not have any friends in a strange city. (I would later realise AB had been a friend to me, and we would become better friends... And then I would become angry at her because of just one little trait that pissed me right the fuck off. And then we'd be good again.)

I don't think I can fully explain what it's like. I'm sure someone would be able to explain it, but I think it's extremely difficult, partly because what happens is...your perceptions change, and you begin to take things for granted, and because of that, you don't think it's worth mentioning those details. I don't think I could catalogue for you all the assumptions and biases and expectations I've developed from being on course.

In any case, I told JM I wasn't about to ditch this amazing relationship with Andre just for him. I agreed not to pursue "intimacy" with Andre again. But that would prove impossible...