It is almost ironic that when I am finally past my long streak of extra work hours I still get yanked away from my blog readers for much longer than I would ever want. I do apologize for the lack of posts recently, and I promise I am alive and well, and looking forward to getting back to a regular schedule with posts. A lot sort of fell behind on this blog with me entertaining my boy and then the work schedule explosion, and I am hoping to pick up some of those pieces and get things going. Last weekend was somewhat of an extended hiccup, and I'm still recovering from everything that went down.
As I entered last weekend, all I really was hoping for was a relaxing weekend in to get rid of the stress and body pains that had built up. I was cruising guys online, hoping to find someone who might be interested, and even catching a few. But I've sadly had more guys string me along recently than actually have desire to meet up. In fact, I had two guys chatting with me who were clearly just jerking off. The first one was asking me about whether I liked to tie guys up. I was open, explaining that I like to be dominant, and thinking that he was a newbie looking for some training. But he soon started asking me about forced sex and even forced fisting, and I eventually just ended the conversation by telling him I wasn't interested in cyber sex. The second guy was a bit more subtle, and I didn't catch on at first. But his frequent remarks about his "straight friend" who wears sweat pants and jock straps all the time soon made it clear to me that some fantasy situation was being developed. I never got fully let in on it, but it involved being in a sweaty jock, that's for sure.
But then I got hit up by somewhat of a blast from the past. The Professor, who I had sex with (giving him his first real bottoming experience) this past November contacted me. We had both been very busy lately, but both had been thinking about each other as well. The contact came at a time when I was joking with a friend about my own college's lack of attractive professors, as well as my ability to seek them out at other colleges. As if summoned, a few hours later, I was making plans to see the Professor Saturday evening.
He picked me up at my apartment in his older car. It is one of those cars that look like they are falling apart, but are actually in perfect working condition on the inside. I love cars like that. Cars that are dependable, but maybe not the most flashy of cars to have. I'm not sure what it is, but they always seem to have smells and stories to them. It seemed a fitting car for the Professor, also maybe not the most attractive man on the outside, but so wonderful on the inside. He protests when I tell him he is a good person, arguing the exact opposite, in fact. But it is clear if you take a moment to look at him that there is an amazing person just a layer below, and he is almost constantly poking his head out.
When we got to the Professor's place, he and I caught up while he prepared a wonderful pasta dinner for the two of us. It was wonderful, though I felt a little bad that my dietary restrictions prevented us from eating the cheese-filled ravioli he had planned on making. It was the first time in weeks that either one of us had sat down at a table and actually had a good dinner with another person, and we both relished the moment even as we felt unaccustomed and almost uncomfortable in it. It was like we had both been busy for so long that we couldn't quite remember how to relax. But we were reminding each other at that table.
After dinner he fussed about a bit as a good host will do. We ended up cuddling on his couch, watching an older BBC comedy he has on DVD. As the night wore on and the episodes went by, our positions went from sitting and cuddling to more and more reclined, until I was basically laying on top of him as he gently breathed in and out. I could tell that he was getting a little tired, and we were both so comfortable that it would have been so easy to sleep. It was also very easy for me to lift my head, look into his eyes, and bend down to kiss him, my hand opening his shirt and reaching in. So easy that it was almost hard to end our romantic make-out session to move to a more comfortable location.
By the time he dropped me off back at my apartment I was feeling peaceful and almost high. I had been talking for a while that I needed to blow off the steam from my long work hours, but had always expected it to be blown in a much more aggressive, almost violent fucking. I had no idea that a romantic night with the Professor was exactly what I needed to wander off to an amazing sleep, having shucked off my clothes and my stress along the way.
The rest of the weekend, however, was not so slow and not so gentle. On me or those I was with.