He is special to me.
Being close to him felt natural and comfortable. I couldn't help but crawl into his embrace and be entangled with him whenever I got a chance, and like one entity, we sank into and were entirely wrapped around the invisible web of music that we both loved. Raj is such an open-minded and kind human being; he was by our side, making it guilt-free and enjoyable.
The music has always been magical whenever we were together, or, my feelings for him were easily enhanced by whatever music was there. The last time the three of us, in January, Raj started a one-song radio, and we made love listening to all the songs. Last night, too, we cuddled to infinity with the company of "In This Shirt" radio from YT music. I was only aware of this song since the day before yesterday. The last part of it has been used prevalently on social media, but I only recognized this song after it appeared on my radio. When I was in the hotel room alone, dressing up, I started a radio with this song, just to entertain myself. The vibe continued throughout the night.
I told him before, most probably it has already slipped out of his mind, that he was the only person I felt absolutely attracted to and had actual physical contact with. The words I didn't tell him were that he was my fantasy. I never got to be with my first love, but he stayed as my fantasy since my early teenage years. At first, I gradually realized how similar my guy felt to my first love - almost the same height, same body build, the way they walk, the way they move, the way they talk, so gently and softly, the way they bow and lean down, the way they look at me and into my eyes, are they clones or what; both of them have such beautiful and handsome faces, although from different races and features are entirely different, the kindness, tolerance and calmness they radiate, the feeling of ocean and sky are the same - that easily sparked my feelings for him, feelings that had been there from the moment I first laid my eyes on him. However, as we met more often, I found that the feelings I had were no longer related to my first love, but were only about him, simply because of who he was - he is indeed a gentle and kind human being, freaking smart, and fun too. I told him how I felt about him. He replied that he also felt a strong connection with me, he felt warmth towards me, and trusted my intentions. That kept me warm inside ever since.
I told him that each time we played, I felt drawn to him, I loved whenever he was inside me, in whatever way, and I was thrilled to have been granted such an experience. I am talking about an attraction level that is indescribably off the chart, something people write a whole classic novel about, when that turns into a love story, a novel that stays forever in time and deep in people's memories.
I want to breathe in all that is to him, absorbing whatever his eyes have seen and his mind has been. I want the gentle, wet caressing of his tongue on my lips to never stop, not even until my mind starts to scream. I want to grab his hair and fondle his ears when he's tasting and teasing the toy he so very desires and adores. I want to melt into him, I want him to sweat me all over when he is on top and inside of me, I want him and his cum to melt into me. I want to look into his eyes and tell him how madly in love I am with him. I want to hold his hands cross-fingered and rest in his arms, never to leave. I want to kiss him without control and suppression, and I want him to feel the urge to kiss me whenever he catches sight of me or a thought of me.
But "be in love" and "love" are utterly different concepts, aren't they?
He doesn't know that I'm a writer, nor what kind of writing and reading I'm obsessed with; I never mentioned it to him, and he was never interested in inquiring. I have never had the chance to engage in lengthy conversations with him, sharing my imaginary world and all my wild theories. I have never had the opportunity to listen to his childhood stories and to hold, perhaps heal, whatever was inside him that needed love and care. I don't know any of his friends or family, and he doesn't know mine. He didn't even remember how I cum and how much I loved to cuddle too, just like him. He has not been in my life, and I have not been in his life. We have no ground to build a partnership, at least not at this current time and space, do we? I used to feel extremely sad about it. I sobbed whenever it crossed my mind. On some days, the thoughts of him never stopped. My heart tightens abruptly and jumps faster whenever that happens.
This time we didn't say to each other "see you soon" or "let's plan it again", because that's just us, we don't know when we will be able to plan and meet again. Maybe soon, maybe in the fall or winter.
I didn't cry. I thought I would, but I didn't. Proud of myself. The space was filled with intimacy and the natural comfort and pleasure that came with it, didn't give me room to feel sad.
He was on his motorbike, riding past and ahead of us. Oh, how cool he was!! He has always been so cool, wearing a black leather jacket, black leather pants that were tight around the calves, and blackish-brown leather combat boots. His whole body leaned forward on his white-shouldered black motorbike, with a black leather backpack. He is definitely the coolest rider I've ever seen on the American highway; the level of coolness is absolutely incomparable, making me wet just by closing my eyes and picturing him on his bike. Sometimes I would get a little scared, though, worrying about and praying for his safety. And my guy always reminds me of how cool my first love was, after we've grewn up together from 9-year-olds and turned into young adults -- always in his sports attire and high top Jordan basketball shoes, walking perfectly up-straight with broad shoulders and thick arms, tall and solid, head up aiming for 3 points when girls screamed on the side; and when he was close to me, he would always gently lean forward or bend down to give me respect and full attention, while his friends teased warmly how tiny I was compared to him. No matter how tough and serious he looked to the others, to me, he instantly turned into a giant cloud of marshmallow. However, we didn't really spend time together, only "accidentally" ran into each other from time to time.
When he was ahead of us, my guy blinked his rear lights, pushed on the gas pedal, and made some loud engine sounds. Then he started to swirl the bike in the shape of infinity, left and right, left and right, five times. Raj and I laughed warmly at the sight of it. I rolled down my window and shouted ahead, "Hello, handsome!" He turned on the right-turn indicator, his bike turned right, and at the moment of disappearing out of our sight, I yelled out of my window, "Bye!" Our car pulled up a little more, saw him again in the distance, left indicator on, turning left onto the highway to SF, while our car moved straight ahead, southbound. At that moment, I knew I wanted him to be in my life, however way it could be, and I knew I could never say goodbye to him, not just yet. The next day, he wrote to us, "Have a great trip and safe journey home." Referring to our summer trip to India, China, and the UK. Yes, baby, I'll be coming back home to you. 😘
【PS: I have absolutely no idea why, after the night with him, I often feel a whole week of soreness inside, no bleeding, just sore. I wouldn't feel anything while in the action, cause I was so wet and it felt so good to have him inside, but the next whole week I would be in pain. Last night I was riding him, and today I can't even walk; I have to hold my abdomen the whole time, and I am in so much pain! All of the guys I play with are as massive as him, but somehow he often reaches somewhere new and is unfamiliar to my body. I want to tell him and ask him, "Baby, what did you do to me?"😭😭】
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