A boy from the club: part two.


We emerged from the club to a mass of people smoking on the corner and watching the sunrise in this foggy dusk. 

We wandered the cobbled roads, his arm around me, talking about where we grew up and where we were going. We shared so many details of our lives, things we have learned, stories of our families. I found out he was a few years younger than me. The youngest person I’ve been with since I almost exclusively date older men. However, age wasn’t apparent, it wasn't important.

Though, I was curious how this was going to turn out.

We got to his apartment and immediately upon entering his room, we attacked each other. Wildly tearing at our clothes. He pushed me down on his bed enjoying his way up my legs. He made his way around my body and focused all his attention on me. Staring into my eyes, he was tender, yet dominant.

And I’m going to be honest here, I’ve never had someone eat my pussy so damn well. 

The light touch of his mouth and the full, warm pressure of his tongue overwhelmed me. I got so worked up, he stopped, smiled at me and said, “Are you in a rush?” A wave rushed through me of desire and surrender. 

No, I am not in a rush! 

And he took his time, gave me 5 orgasms, put on a condom and fucked me until I released my hot, sweet fluids onto his body. 

The next morning he made me coffee, kissed the top of my head sweetly and we sat by the window.

Maybe I have bee doing it all wrong. Dating older (mostly American)  men, maybe I need a young romantic European man. 

I left Milan the next day, only having that one night with him. But in that one night, we fell into total passion, we let ourselves be ‘in’ love, and feel the breadth of what we were capable of, as intimate, sensual, erotic, and emotional beings. 

This is what I want from every lover, from every encounter. No less than this surrender to passion and vulnerability.

DiaryEve LemeurComment