For all you horn-dogs who don't care about background story and wanna just get to the juicy details (not saying there's a problem with that), search for the phrase, "moment of truth" and read from there. This is a very vanilla yet explicit story. But if you'd like the full, passionate effect, I suggest you read from the beginning.
I may not seem like the relationship type, and I may love shallow, meaningless, raw sexual relations... but I'm totally head over heels for somebody.
I moved back to my hometown seven weeks ago due to a family emergency after being gone for a few years. I left a life I loved in a city I loved to move back to a city I thought I'd never live in again. It was a hard transition. Liam is the first friend I made here.
I met him off OKCupid of all places. We had a first date and it was really fantastic! He just sent me a one-lined message (which I almost never respond to) that said something along the lines of, "Hey wanna go fuck some shit up tomorrow night?" or something -- he was referring to a block of text in my profile where I mentioned I loved doing hooligan activities, like graffiti and such.
So I gave him my number and on my second or third night in town, we met up with a few cans of spray paint and "fucked some shit up" -- we painted stencils of Frida Kahlo on the sidewalk -- for a few hours and then went to an all-night restaurant with our hands totally covered in paint. The conversation was great, the activities were great, and by the morning we decided to have a second date.
Well nothing ended up happening. We would hang out every other day or so, and we became better friends but nothing physical occurred. I eventually got a job at his place of employment...and then proceeded to get fired almost immediately. Our social circles started coming together a small amount -- he'd hang out with my roommates and me, and I'd meet some of his musician friends. Turns out he also used to hang out with my ex (who I dated for three years). As we got to know each other, it became clear that are values were in sync. Recreationally, we had lots of fun together. Conversationally, we always seemed to be on the same page. He values a polysexual ideal, and so do I.
Well about three weeks ago, I house-sat for a client from my old pet sitting business. It's a really nice house with a great, big kitchen, so I invited him over for a feast with some gin and juice. We made a night of it -- we drank until the wee hours of the morn' listenin' to the blues, singin' songs for each other, and even danced to Lady Gaga. Finally we went to sleep -- I in the bed and he on the couch.
The next morning he woke me up by crawling into my bed and cuddling with me. After about a half hour of lazily waking up, I finally gave him a kiss on the cheek. He responded with a look of shock on his face, didn't really have anything to say, and then sort of got up and left. He then apologized, but didn't say what he was sorry for. It was a strange rejection, and I felt a momentary sadness, and then shrugged my shoulders and moved on with my day. I liked him a lot, but I figured there's nothing wrong with fostering a strong platonic friendship if that's all he wanted to remain. So, I eventually started talking to him about other men and women I was seeing. I would tell him about my adventures with people I'd meet climbing, or the horrible date I had on OKCupid, or the male model who I recently wrote about.
But as the weeks have gone by, I've realized it's been really hard to suppress my attraction for him. His rejection was strange, and I wasn't all too sure it was a real rejection. I couldn't get over the fact that maybe there was still some chance that he liked me back. With that tiny amount of wonder in my mind, I just couldn't bring myself to move on from him. I determined that I needed to tell him directly how I felt.
Fast forward to last night. We had plans to make dinner and music together, and then last-minute he was asked to play a gig downtown. It was a paid gig, so he couldn't pass it up. I had never seen him perform for an audience, so I was excited to watch.
I got a drink. I sat back and observed for a while. The music was fantastic! I loved watching Liam play the drums. His facial expressions were priceless, and his nonverbal communication with the singer and guitarist was vulnerable and impressive.
After some time I started mingling with the other patrons. I ran into Henry who I used to know back in high school -- he was hot. Really handsome. He offered to buy me a drink and we flirted and danced while Liam's band played. He was pretty immature, though, as most twenty-year-olds are.
Liam's set ended and he left the stage to join us. We talked for a while with many people around the bar. We danced to a song together when the next band played, but mostly I spent the time hanging out with Henry who kept buying me drinks. We lounged together on the couch, danced, and continued flirting. Even though Henry was beautiful to look at, my thoughts kept flitting back to Liam and how much I wanted him.
Finally I gave Henry my number, and Liam and I went home. We got a ride to a taco place and then back to his house. After unloading all his band equipment, we drunkenly stumbled into his bedroom.
I sat on his bed. Here was the moment of truth. It needed to be said while we were both still drunk.
"Liam can I tell you something before we go eat the tacos?"
"Well, sure, Lilla!"
"Liam... I don't think it's reciprocated, but I need to tell you anyway. I am really attracted to you.. I really, really like you, and I'm just very attracted to you. If you want to be just friends, that's fine, but I just need to know without a doubt so I can move on."
He just sort of awkwardly smiled. "Wow, I.... well I really like you too."
I was shocked. Liam called my face priceless. We talked like this for a few more minutes, and I saw him look down at my lips, so I kissed him.
He returned back with intense passion. He pushed me down so that I was now lying on his bed, which was covered in instruments. I could hear a tambourine cling as he crawled on top of me, pushed back my hair, and kissed me more. We'd break every few moments to look up at each other with wild wonder, both shocked at how we were in this situation. He had surely thought that he was forever in the friend-zone, and I had surely thought that he was going to gently let me down. I was completely unbelieving of the fact that the man who I care for most deeply in this city was in this intimate, vulnerable moment with me -- and I didn't know where it'd go.
I sat up a bit and interrupted the kissing, "Wait... should we eat our tacos?" I think I was nervous we were leading to sex, and was hesitant about that happening so soon after admitting my attraction for him.
"You know," he replied with my legs wrapped around him, "I don't really give a shit about tacos right now."
I laughed and pulled him on top of me again and we continued to make out. I felt like I was in high school again because I had to push aside his long, bright green mohawk over and over again (the last time I had any kind of bedroom relations with somebody with long hair was when I was 17 years old).
The tambourines were loud -- we threw one off the bed. He took off my shirt and threw it aside. Somehow we knocked over an empty glass which broke. He played with my breasts through a black and red lace bra that I love and looked in amazement at the fact that he was going to see me naked. I pulled off his shirt and realized that I was nearly sober at this point.
I put a stop to the heavy petting and placed my hands on his chest. "Liam," I said, "I want you to know that I actually really do like you. I mean... if we progress any further than this, to me it won't be just a fuck. This isn't some casual thing. I mean, I very seriously like you."
He replied, "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. Lilla, I'm totally crazy for you. I mean, I'm just totally crazy for you. If this were just an empty fuck it would have happened long ago. But you know how sensitive I am to stuff like that. That's why I've waited so long with you but I'm glad I have."
I smiled and kissed him happily.
Somehow there were still tambourines on the bed -- we threw another one off. It hit the wall before crashing loudly to the ground. Not even a giggle escaped our mouths at the absurdity of this; I was too enthralled in his body and what was happening that I barely noticed the tornado we were creating in his room.
I kicked off my shoes, and one hit the lamp, knocking it over and putting the light out. I then removed his shirt; he tore off my pants. I unbuckled his belt and ravenously pushed his jeans down with my feet. I could see the tip of his penis peeking out from behind his clothing and I felt a rush of excited anticipation pump through my body.
There was an acoustic guitar on his bed; Liam pushed that off without a second thought, and it landed with a loud clang on the ground below. The amount of room we had on the bed was immensely expanding -- it was a California King.
I unhooked the back of my bra and let Liam slowly remove it before he dove in and started squeezing, biting, and licking my now hard nipples. His large hands wrapped over my ribcage and slowly moved downward until he squeezed my hip bones. He pulled me toward him quickly and I successfully kicked off his jeans and underwear all the way.
He pressed his groin up against my black lace panties as I threw my head back and moaned with desire. I traced the muscles in his back with my fingertips before digging them in and pulling his body onto mine.
Excitedly he kissed my neck and throat and moved downward toward my belly. Finally he tore of my panties, opened my legs, and ravenously dove in. He delicately fondled my clitoris with his thumb before gently licking and sucking it -- he used so little pressure that he was nothing more than a tease driving me mad. Finally, with the encouragement of my pelvis pressed into his face, my thighs squeezing his cheeks, and my hands digging into his hair, he shoved a finger inside and started to finger fuck me while he ate me out more voraciously.
After several minutes of this I encouraged him to resurface by showering him in kisses and gently massaging his whole body. I touched his chest, stomach, hips... then moved for his thighs... and gently started feeling his penis. I gave him a mischievous but blissful grin and pressed my hips against his. He took hold of his dick and pressed inside me.
With my legs splayed in the air and my hand wrapped around the back of his head, he fucked me and we kissed deeply. Slowly we inched backward on the bed, managed to fully push off all the sheets, and my head kept bumping up against his hard shell bass case. He kept scooting that over until it fell onto his drumset which collapsed in an explosion of noise. For good measure he also kicked off the last of the percussion instruments. Finally, all that was left on the bed was the two of us.
He pressed me up against the wall with pillows on my back and squeezed my tits as he hammered away. I wrapped my arm around his torso with my hand flat against his damp back as I moaned in pleasure.
Then I pushed him off of me. It was my turn. He laid down on his back and I crawled on top of him... and then I realized how desperately thirsty I was. We'd fucked for a good hour by now, and we were still recovering from a large consumption of alcohol from earlier that night. So I walked (actually strutted) to the kitchen to fill my glass with cold water.
He emerged from the hallway and approached me slowly. I grinned and gulped down the water before letting him finish the glass, then set it down on the counter. I leaned up against the sink and looked up at him as he wrapped his hands around my back and leaned down to kiss me again. I bit his lip and wrapped my fingers through his hair. I then stood on my tip toes and pulled him down farther toward me so I could nibble on his ear, making him shudder.
He lifted me up onto the edge of the sink, parted my legs, and shoved himself back inside me. I held on to the counter behind me as he fucked me fast. It was uncomfortable and gross because I was falling into the dirty dishes, but ridiculously hot. Finally he picked me up out of the sink and set me on the ground again. I refilled the glass of water and then ravenously kissed him again.
"Let's go back to the bedroom," he grinned. I pulled him toward me and started backing up as we continued to kiss. We ran into the bar, knocking over the bags with tacos in them. Then we ran into the bookshelf and knocked over who-knows-what. Finally we made it into the bedroom and I set the glass of water down on an amp before pushing him onto the bed and this time crawled on top of him for real.
Slowly we started fucking again. The lighting was fantastic and I traced the lines on his torso while he did the same on my body. Every now and then I would lean forward and kiss him more while fondling his testicles.
Eventually I ended up pulling him over to the side and we fucked in the spooning position for not too long before we moved back to missionary. Somehow in this transition period we managed to knock over the water which spilled over his amp. He shrugged and then placed my legs over his shoulders and hammered away at me while I experienced ecstatic pleasure and bliss. Loud moans escaped both of our lips, and I hugged him close to me as I couldn't help but howl out in pleasure.
Finally, we both collapsed on the bed in a heap of heavy breathing and a small amount of laughter.
We looked at the time -- it read almost 6am. What a fun night.
After a moment of rest and deep, fulfilled sighs, we got up and went into the kitchen again. We happily ate our tacos which were delicious after all that!
As he shut off all the lights I waited patiently in his bed. He walked back in his room and I asked if I could sleep there with him. He said yes. Now, this was really momentous in that we'd talked a few times before about how difficult it is to actually sleep with somebody -- it's far more vulnerable than being naked or sexual with a person. Both of us confessed that with most of our partners, we do fuck and runs -- have sex and then leave before bedtime. But that night we fell asleep together in his bed and it was marvelous.
Of course, waking up together meant a morning of just as much fun as the night before.
I may not be in love with Liam, but I care about him deeply and I am absolutely falling for him. There is an unbelievably stark difference between emotionless sex and fully emotional sex. The latter is far more fulfilling, exciting, and rare. I am left feeling completely high on a cocktail of chemical releases that are only experienced in these worthwhile occasions.
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