(Previously, after a crazy bus ride, and walking in freezing cold, I made it to Harry’s bedroom.
I started massaging his back, and he turned so I could massage his front.)
***
He touched me before I touched him.
I mean, touch as in d*ck touch!
He stroked me, and went down on me.
Sweet Jesus!
Coming from the cold outside, the moist warmth is heaven.
And virgin or not, bi or not, he was very good at it.
And then, he begged me.
***
And I kissed him.
The tender sweet lips.
The tasty, beautiful tongue, almost shy.
The sweet breath.
We both tasted like coffee and mouthwash.
The French kissing went on like forever until I was stiff and ready.
I put on the condom.
(Brand: Skyn — Elite type, which I have brought all three dozens with me from the US.)
***
Be gentle, he said.
And I didn’t know if I were to believe him.
I entered, and he grunted, eyes closed.
And I while I was working, I was thinking of the words ‘pumping’ and ‘pummel’.
I saw his chest tattoo.
It reads Blood is thicker than Water, but it was inked weirdly.
Line one: ‘Blood’ and ‘Water’ in bold script.
Line two: ‘is thicker than’ in thin script.
***
He is so beautiful.
I can’t believe my luck.
While I was looking down on his sweet face with his eyes closed, I see acne-free and smooth face with a beautiful “thin man” shape.
And all I could think of then was the word ‘angelic’.
His name could have really been Gary.
At least, that’s what he said.
But let’s call him Harry, like the Prince.
Because his hair is like that of the Duke of Sussex.
***
Four minutes, five minutes…
I don’t know.
But I gave everything I could: fast, slow, rapid, loving, fierce, mad, dreamy.
And I was out.
***
He kissed me again, and stroked me as I stroked him.
Then, I coaxed him to ride me.
And he went on top of me.
And I swear by all things holy, he knew how to twerk it.
It was a-m-a-z-i-n-g!
Or as the British would say it, “Love-leh!”
***
Really, what have I done to deserve this?
Surely, it’s more than just birthday luck.
Surely, it’s more than just destiny.
Surely, it’s more than just my optimism to say Yes to everything that Life has to offer.
At this point, I can really say, I am blessed!
***
As a perfect gentle man, I let him come first.
I mean, I always do.
I always think of my lovers first, more than myself.
It takes me a while to come myself.
(Duh! I’m on EP—extended play mode! Haha.)
***
Then, I took control.
I instructed him how to kiss me so.
Suck my tongue, bite my lips, rip my insides with a kiss.
And I groaned like I groaned on New Year’s day.
We kissed for a while.
Cuddled.
And then, without waiting for him to kick me out, I said, I need a tissue or towel.
I waited for him to get whatever before I got out of bed.
Towel it was.
And then, I was dressing up as fast as I could.
I didn’t bother to look at the clock.
He took me to the door.
And before he opened it, we kissed again.
He still likes to kiss me! So that’s great.
I really wanted to take a selfie with him, but I felt he wouldn’t like that, so I didn’t insist.
The door closed, clicked, and I headed for the nearest bus stop.
***
After another 38 minutes of waiting, the bus came.
And as destiny would have it, it was the same grumpy English driver.
Again, he won’t tell me where to get off even if I showed him the bus route map.
I pushed the stop button one stop too early.
He stopped the bus, opened the door, but the place didn’t look familiar so I stayed on the bus.
I saw my landmark bridge, and I said, “Next bus stop!”
***
= Got home safely. Just now. Damn bus! But thank u so much for not bailing out on me. Haha (1:58)
Let’s do the maths:
I was in his room before 1 pm.
Bus ride home is 9 minutes.
Waiting for bus is 40 minutes.
All other stuff, 5 minutes max.
So maybe we just had 15 minutes.
***
The famous 15 minutes of anyone.
And Harry and mine’s was heavenly.
Dreamlike. Surreal.
Everything about it is so crazy.
Only the kisses and the sex were real.
Only us. Me and my birthday gift from the Universe./PN
