sex: encounter #12 – Paulo

I could possibly refuse the offer could I?

Paulo, (32, 6′, Italian, intense brown eyes and masses of hair everywhere) had offered to cook me a three-course Roman meal naked. Naked! Really though, how could I say no?

He picked me up from the office after eight carrying a full to brimming Whole Foods Market hessian bag and we dawdled back to mine, basking in the residual heat of the day. Back at mine I needed a shower so I led him into the bathroom.

‘Strip’ I said to him as I stood washing myself in the shower. He did.

‘Wank’ I said to him as I washed my hair. He did. He gently drew a ring around the head of his cock with a lovely slow motion, I almost fucked him then and there but I was so hungry.

‘Now go and make my fucking dinner’ I said with a wink and a pout. He grinned and left, I dried and changed into a fake Chanel cocktail dress.

sex: encounter #8 – Michael

I was in the mood yesterday. Walking around Borough Market yesterday with Gina was fun, trying cheeses and olive oils and hams and olives, the usual stuff. Gina was in the middle of this long, complex relationship story (I toyed with the idea of telling her ‘so leave him and go on a year long rampage, fucking every delicious red-blooded male that takes your fancy’ a couple of times) and I was restricted to the occasional ‘uh-huh’ as I was chewing on an olive. My mind wasn’t really on the conversation, not that I’m a bad listener, okay I am a bad listener when I’m on the prowl and I was definitely on the prowl yesterday.

The sushi we ate for lunch just ramped up my desperation for a fuck.