It's been three days since I have last seen Walter and I kind of miss him. It is not so much the sex that I am missing – I haven't even masturbated since I last time had sex with him. It is more his calm aura and his hugs. Mostly being close to him and feeling his body warmth. I find myself thinking about him often. Mostly about him being bent over me and fucking me. I have now had sex twice in my life and it feels different. I feel different. I feel like I suddenly belong among my peers. I have finally reached the next goal; I have climbed on the same level that nearly everyone else my age had already been on. I haven't told anybody about this nor about Walter. I do have one or two friends who I could talk to, and they would maybe not even be surprised. After all, I had always had weird fictional character crushes, and to be honest, there had never been a big chance of finding an old, attractive guy in real life. Also, my crushes were mostly villains, and Walter was definitely not a villain. Maybe he could be… My thoughts begin going in circles again. He did go a bit fast last time and I had asked him to go slower. But besides the pain it had felt kind of good having him be more aggressive. Besides the pain?
I was never one to indulge much in SM fantasies. But wishing a dominant man on me was definitely a secret wish. And Walter was bigger, taller, and more muscular than I am. He was older, and… I wonder what other fetishes he has. What he might be dreaming of doing to me.
It is Wednesday evening and Walter texts me. Asking whether I want to come over tomorrow. I agree. Tonight, I have Chinese classes, and I haven't stayed over at Walter's when I had to work the next day. Maybe on Thursday I will. Thursday afternoon after coming home from work, I pack a few things. A toothbrush, a pyjama, some clothes and underwear. I try to pick the normal looking underwear, not the ones I have been having for ten years now which look like from a teenage kid. And of course, my Star Trek underpants. I like them.
When I arrive at Walter's house I am kind of both relieved and sad to not find him outside smoking. He has offered to make dinner and he is already in the kitchen, preparing a good-smelling wok dish. He lets me in and asks me whether I have managed to keep up with my language homework.
"I have, though I do need to write an essay for Portuguese class," I say.
"Well, dinner will take another 20 minutes or so."
I sit down at the table and work. I don't feel uncomfortable not talking. Actually, not talking with someone and being in the same room minding my own business is something I have always wished for. The radio is playing music in the background. With so many years of depression, I notice when I suddenly have a moment where I just feel happy. And I do so now.
I am not done with my essay when Walter is done cooking. We eat and we talk, mainly about politics and travel. He knows so much and he has been to so many places that I am always in awe and very interested in listening to the locations he has visited and encounters with locals and other tourists he has had. I really want to travel the world myself, but how am I supposed to do that with 28 days holidays a year and a salary with which I can afford maybe 1.5 Europe trips in a year? I never say such things aloud though. But my dream of doing language classes all over the world is still there.
After dinner, Walter insists on doing the dishes alone while I finish my homework. We then watch the 7 seven o'clock news and a documentary about Mediterranean food. While sitting on the couch, he snuggles closer to me. I lean my head against his neck and put my legs over his. It takes me a while to achieve a comfortable position, but I would have never thought I would like to spend time with someone else and watching interesting movies with another person.
I know that our relationship won't last. I know that sooner of later, I move away or he dies or we get into a fight. But I don't want to think about it. I want to enjoy the moments while they last. That's something me depression has taught me.
When the documentary has ended, he asks me, "how do you feel, Annika?"
"You gave me time to think. I think I needed it. But I like it. I have been dreaming about sex for over a decade now, and I am very glad that I first experienced it with you."
He reaches out and touches my cheek. His hand is so warm on my skin. "I never thought I would develop feelings again. And I still feel embarrassed about it because you are so young."
Before I can protest, he puts his forefinger onto my mouth. He then leans in and kisses me. I taste his beard and the wetness of his mouth. I still haven't gotten used to the concept of kissing. But it arouses me so much. Our kisses grow deeper and then I suddenly feel his tongue. I bury my hand in his shoulder-long hair and we begin to actually make out. I cannot even describe it nor can I describe how it feels. He pushes my behind onto his legs so that I sit down on his lap. We stare into each other's eyes for a while before we start kissing again. I push him against the couch and my breasts touch his chest. I feel how my nipples begin to harden. While my hands are mostly still in his hair, his hands glide over my back and over my behind. It feels so good. Then we look up again, and he pushes my face next to him like a long and intensive hug. He begins to kiss my neck and I feel his beard on my skin. It is not as bristly as I would have expected. My breathing becomes deeper.
"Do you like that?" he asks.
Walter's hair smells of ice and bamboo shampoo. I feel his breathing on my own breast. "Yes," I moan.
He chuckles. He begins to push up my sweater from the bottom. I lean back and he pulls it over my head. I am not cold anymore and don't need it anyway. His hand glides over my cheek and down towards my tits. I am still wearing a top and bra, but both his hands cup my small breasts. He smiles at them. I begin to unbutton his shirt. He is always wearing shirts with two buttons open, or rather with a button more than normal open. Most of the time, he has his glasses hanging down in his shirt, but not now. He also looks so sexy when he has his glasses on the top of his head, keeping his long hair back. My hands glide over his hairy chest.
"Shall we go to the bed?" he asks. I nod. I get up and he grabs my hand when we walk over to the bedroom. He takes off his shirt and unbuttons his trousers. While he undresses, so do I. When I pull down my underpants, I realise I am already wet. When I turn to him, he is rubbing his penis.
"Can I help you with that?" I ask.
I walk over and put my hand around his penis. He puts his hand on mine. "Rub gently back and forth," he explains, and I do so. His hand is so big in comparison to mine. I imagine what it must be like if it is fully inside of me. "Most of the feeling is at the tip. Move this forth and back." His instructions are interrupted by moans. "That's great, but we shouldn't get me too enthusiastic yet. Now, hop onto the bed."
I do as I am told again. He walks over to the night table and takes out tissues, condoms, and lube. I watch him, and then decide to ask, "can you take me from behind?"
"Of course," he says. "We have so many things we can try out."
I turn around and sit on my feet. I hear him climb behind me, and he puts his hands onto my shoulder. He leans in and whispers into my ear: "Annika, you need to relax. I don't want to hurt you."
I take a deep breath and lean forward. He pushes my arse further and my legs wider apart. He moves in between my legs and begins to touch my vagina with his pointing finger and middle finger. I already moan. Just the feeling of his big, manly hands down there arouses me. I feel the waves of heat again. Will I always feel this, or will I get used to it? My legs and my pelvis twitch a bit. I am very sensible down there. He puts his other hand on my hip to calm me. His fingers glide around my clitoris, and then finally begin to breach me.
"Can you reach deeper, please?" I ask.
He does so without a comment. Soon, I feel the full length of his fingers. He pulls out and I think I hear him wipe on the tissues. "Are you ready, Annika?" he asks.
"Hm-mh," I say. I am so wet, I am surprised I am not dripping. I hear the condom pack being opened and then I feel both his hands on my hip. He positions himself behind my and then takes one hand to guide his penis. He does not enter immediately, he does not want to surprise me. He rubs his penis forth and back on my vagina before he does finally enter me. Both he and I moan. I feel my arms weakening a bit. He slowly enters me with his full length, and then he pulls nearly all out. He repeats it a few times so that I am getting used to it. To be honest, when he gets faster, I don't even feel the full length, I just feel the movement. He supports himself with one hand on my pelvis, and the other one on my chest. Right now, it is positioned between my tits, halfway towards the belly. He pushes me closer to him, while he leans in. I sense his chest hair on my back.
"Tell me when I go too fast."
And then he begins to move. Forth and back. In and out. Both his hands find their way towards my breasts, they grab them fully. Then he pulls me closer to himself. I feel my whole body trembling. It takes me a while, but then I notice the rhythm and I begin moving with him, aiding him going in. His left hand moves down to the area below the belly and he pushes me towards him in just the right moments. We both breathe and moan heavily, and I am beginning to sweat. His chest clashes with my back again and again, and I feel his breath in my neck.
But somehow, even though I am totally aroused and cannot even think straight anymore, I don't get closer to an orgasm. I'm thinking about touching myself in the front, around the clitoris, but I don't dare to. I feel how Walter has become faster and more intense, and I get the sense that he will come soon. I turn my head slightly, and he kisses my neck. When he comes, he moans loudly into my ear. It should get me to orgasm, too, but it doesn't. He becomes slower again and finally pulls out. I fall forward onto my hands. I feel some sort of tingling at my vagina, unsatisfied. I think Walter behind me puts the used condom into the packaging and wipes his fingers with the tissues.
"Annika, did you come?"
"You have to tell me. I want you to have fun. I want it to be pleasurable for you as well."
"Yes, I know…"
Walter moans in disbelief. "Come on, Annika. Lie down. I can't have you go to sleep tonight without being pleased."
I turn around and notice that I am indeed very wet. My inner thighs are splashed as well. I feel dirty. Walter sits next to me, and his long fingers reach for my opening again. They massage my labia and clitoris, and then they enter.
I whimper for I feel pleasure again. Then soon, a third finger joins in. And a fourth.
"You're very wide, Annika. Just tell me if it feel uncomfortable."
He soon enters with his whole hand. Oh my god. "You have such a big hand," I moan in the moment where his second hand plays with my clitoris. He rubs it, faster and faster; his other hand leaves my inside and plays only at the opening. I don't even know how, but I suddenly come. My breathing gets so high, and I give a silent shriek.
Walter laughs. He is satisfied when I come.
He leaves to wash his hands and face, and when he returns he finds I haven't moved yet. "You okay?" he wants to know.
I nod. "Yeah," I answer. But it felt so good I haven't been able to move yet. Walter lies down next to me.
"You have gotten used to it very quickly. You know, the first few times are usually not very pleasant," he says.
"I have a great teacher."
"I think it's because you have waited."
"I have not waited. I've just never had a…" I had had chances. Not big ones. But my depression and my insecurities had always held me back. And maybe I had too high demands. Like, there were maybe three penis-owning persons in total that I could have had sex with. Four. I had maybe had interest in one of them. But when I had had the chance, I had had a bad day. I had cried during my therapist session, and after that, I had been a mental wrack. I had never had a romantic relationship, so sex with a partner had hardly ever seemed like an option. And my crushes had nearly always been fictional. So there hadn't been much of a chance for dream sex with someone like Walter.
I lie on my side and snuggle onto his chest. I put my had on his shoulder and his arm wraps around me. I am happy. I think with Walter it is the first time that I am happy in a way that I had always wanted to be. I had always wanted someone. And Walter was attractive and kind, intelligent and a good person to have conversations with. And he was experienced. He always minded my feelings, during or not during sex.
Neither of us talk for a while. Finally, we decide to have a shower and call it a night. In the shower, he asks me again to pee on him and then returns this favour. I hope that one day we might make some foreplay out of this. I hope that one day he will possess me and will dominate me. But for today, it is enough.