Him- An Erotic Retell

Chapter One- Him

We met on May 2nd. He left me on November 2nd. He came back to me on December 2nd and inevitably left me for the final time on December 26th. In the short span of 210 days, I experienced the greatest, most challenging, and life expanding love affair of my life. I wanted Him desperately and continued to do so long after he left me. He not only challenged me to be a better person by example, but he forced me to challenge my own ideas of what a ‘relationship’ was. He was a galloping horse and I couldn't tame him. Not even if I wanted to. I didn’t want to. I loved him almost immediately for exactly who he was, and wouldn’t have loved him any other way. My needs always came secondary, but I ran along him knowing that what I received was enough. He was limited, but he was spectacular.

My parents and friends, didn’t understand how I could love a man who came and left like the sun, without promise of rising again. “If he never comes back, I’ll be happy for the time that I had, Mom. Our relationship doesn’t follow rules of social expectation. And its certainly like nothing I have ever experienced before.”

“You don’t even know if you are going to see him this weekend,” my friends pleaded. “No, I don’t. But when he is ready to spend time with me, he will let me know. I have my own life too you know. I don’t need to spend all my time with him.” “Ya, but its the not knowing.” “I know that I am happy.”

He forced me to be emotionally self sufficient. He wasn’t going to take any of ‘my shit,’ so I had to learn to calm my emotions and figure out how to communicate them logically and rationally.No one is ever prepared for the moment that changes their life forever. Sometimes it passes without recognition. And only in hindsight does the moments significance seem to surface. Thats what happened to me. I had no idea how big of a moment it was while it was happening.

It was probably the 4th date. He invited me over for drinks and food. He wasn’t a chef by any means but had a variety of finger foods to snack on from Iran. I remember him being adoring. He kept my drink full, and was so excited to have me try all this new exotic food. He prepared the snacks as he liked and fed them to me. Then once the food was almost complete he came around the side of the island and kissed me. It wasn’t our first kiss but it was our first kiss with intention of something more than saying good bye.

I sat on a stool, and he came and stood next to me. Hand on my neck, he kissed my mouth passionately. It wasn’t long before he pushed my face to the side and moved my hair off my neck. Some of it fell in my face and disabled me from seeing. He kissed and nibbled on my ear for a much longer period of time than he kissed my mouth. For a much longer period of time than I liked. “What the fuck is this guy doing?” I thought to myself.

I tried to move back to kiss his mouth. He resisted and moved my face back to its original position. I didn't like what he was doing. It felt weird. I had to trust that he wasn’t going to breath too hard and hurt my ear drum. I was worried about him tasting ear wax. I was so uncomfortable. After some time he moved his kisses down my neck and he devoured my collar bone feeling me up at the same time. This felt great. I was in heaven. He stopped, grabbed my hand and took me to his bedroom. I didn’t want to sleep with him. I hadn’t worked out how I felt about him yet. He laid me down on my back and removed my top. I tried to resist but he had his way. He took off my pants while he kiss and licked my breasts and stomach. He grabbed the extra fat, which made me feel uncomfortable until he said, “This is the stomach of a woman,” and pushed his face in it.

He moved down towards my pelvic bone and licked my pussy overtop of my underwear. I had no idea what this guy was doing and when I tried to assist him by removing my panty he said, “Don’t fucking do that!” So I stopped. He continued to kiss my legs and vagina, worshipping my body. He pulled my underwear tight and strung it between my pussy lips. Then he kissed them more passionately than he did my mouth. I started to really enjoy what was happening. Eventually my undies came off and he was face deep in my cunt. I was incredibly turned on, but still insecure about being so intimate with pretty much a stranger. He gave it everything he had, which was nice of him. My insecurities prevented me from fully enjoying the experience and when I realized there was no way I was going to come, I faked it so he would stop.

He seemed like he wanted to move forward, but I told him I had got to go. I dressed and left feeling confused about such a bizarre sexual encounter. What a weird guy I thought. He was certainly like no other.

Making love to him took some getting used to. I had never felt so out of control before. If I moved my head left and he wanted it right, he moved it right. I couldn't take off my panties until he wanted them off. I couldn’t touch him unless he told me to. I learned to let go of my desire and let him lead me. And instead of gratifying myself, I learned to find enjoyment in being there to please him.

Its probably going to sound strange but with his hand on my throat, I felt closer to him than I had any man. It was violently romantic. He would be fucking me, cutting off my airway and looking into my eyes, connecting so deeply. I developed the sense that I was his. To have when he wanted, where he wanted, for as long as he wanted. There were times that in the middle of the night, as I was sleeping, I felt his hands caress my cunt, seeking to arouse me. Not wanting to disturb my sleep, I pushed his hands away and rolled over. This was then he would climb on me and take what he wanted without my permission. I was always glad he did.

I used to love sucking his dick while he told me the dirty things he would do with other women during the times I wasn’t with him. For some reason it didn't make me feel jealous. It made me feel strong. I knew they meant nothing to him. They were just stories. I know that he didn’t share the dirty intimacies with them like he did with me. They were just pretty victories. I was his trophy, and he was my keeper.

In all 210 days, I never cooked for him. He always took me out or cooked for me. One day he made me spaghetti. He put it in a bowl, put it in front of me but told me not to touch it.

“You don’t want to make a mess of that dress, take it off.” I did. He then took the bowl and placed it on the floor. “Now eat it without using your hands.” I did. After I was finished I had red sauce all over my face which he ate off of me while we fucked.

He loved fucking me in the shower when I was on my period. He would let the bloody water pool at our feet. He would get his hands covered in my blood and paint my back with it. Smearing it all over me. He wanted to make it look like a crime scene. Like I had been assaulted. He said it turned him on.

I used to love mornings. Somewhere in the morning before we actually woke up he’d roll over and hold his body next to me. It always fit so perfectly in place with mine. We’d lay there and rest as our bodies became alive. They moved together, as though they were one, as we repositioned. Eventually, I’d feel him move my hair and place his lips on the back of my neck. His hands would caress the curves of my body. We’d make love to welcome the day almost every day. He always approached my body as if he had never seen it before, and appreciated every inch of my human. He was never overly vaginal. At least not right away. Nor did he migrate to my breasts either. Each time we made love he seemed to find a new corner of my body he had not devoured, and he conquered it. It was kind of animalistic. On one hand incredibly gentle, but the other entirely savage.

In our days apart, we wouldn’t talk. Not even text. But from time to time he would text me orders. “Watch that video of me fucking your ass today.” “Don’t you dare touch yourself today.” “Run 5 kms and listen to Ok Go.” No matter what he demanded, I complied. I had become possessed. I allowed myself to become this way. I welcomed it. Now that he has thrown me away, and moved on. I am lost.

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