Something about the way he kissed me. The way I was kissed by him. First in front of everyone as cars and canams passed by on Calle Loíza. Then alone on the rooftop. A seductive humid breeze tossing my hair around. My torso arching involuntarily. Our tongues meeting with fever. An innocent fervor. An honest interaction between mouths. Puñeta que rico, he recited like a meditation. Hypnotized by me. I was uncharacteristically content. Even with the gorgeous upper cut of his rock hard cock in my hands, it felt so good just making out with my back against the wall like the high school loving I never had.
He wasn't my type. At least not what met my eye at first. But I loved the way he took interest in me. The way he kept asking me questions. Thoughtful ones, not just the shallow layers. I didn't expect to go there with him but I knew I was liking... something about him. There on the rooftop I wasn't myself. Normally I would shove it to the back of my throat and beg for it as deep inside as it could go. But... I just wanted to kiss him. It was so decadent. I never remember kissing so long and deep in all my life. I was relishing in it. Could've gone forever. To this moment, my pussy turns into the glow of a firefly when I think about it.
I came back for more. This time it was me who initiated: "Fuck. Tengo unas ganas de verte". I already made up my mind. I was gonna fuck him. I brought condoms but not lube. I guess I was on the fence afterall. One foot on the gas and one on the breaks. Turned off by his lack of recent std results. Totally enamored of his kiss and the way his cock looked so fun to ride. Again we kissed on the roof. We kissed our way back down to his apartment. Against the wall. He pulled my clothes off. I told him I was gonna bleed everywhere. No te importa? I asked as I climbed on top of him. I don't quite remember what happened next. My hesitation clouded my memory as thoroughly as my desire canceled out my hesitation. I do know that it started to hurt pretty immediately because the combination of period and condom caused a fair amount of friction. Without allowing his lips on my pussy, the wetness was not sustainable. Even though I was soaking to the touch. He was so muscular- his dick was so hard. It hurt. good. And I even crashed and came on his cock although apparently he didn't even realize it. He waited 'til after he came to say "you didn't cum" with a resolve that made me want to smack him. If I didn't cum, why did you? I wanted to as. Afterall, I made him agree to make sure I came first. I started to feel more and more detached from the moment- disinterested. "Voy", I told him. And as we kissed our way towards the door he got so hard again. Solid rock and I didn't even want more. How weird.
I awoke with anxiety. A boundary crossed again. The same one. Still I felt a tenderness in my heart. Did he want more? Did I perform so poorly and prudishly? Was I so disinterested? Is my libido still slightly mia after the yeast infection and the slight dosage of heartbreak? Did I even want to see him again or did I just want him to want to see me again? Blocks away , on his last night, I don't even bother to reach out. All I want is more kisses any way... Is that enough to call a spontaneous rendezvous? Only time will tell.
Update: it wasn't