Learning to love sex
Well, my relationship with the taxi driver lasted less than three weeks! We split up at the weekend, after he'd started taking us for granted as a couple. Anyway, that's how I saw our love or lust, or whatever it was.
I was angry because I'd spent a long time getting ready on Saturday afternoon, and I thought we were going for something to eat. A nice romantic meal somewhere, that's how I had thought it would be. And then perhaps a love making session in a double bed at a nice hotel. Gentle kissing before passionate sex.
Instead, he told me that he'd got a room for us at a dismal "business" hotel down in the port area that we knew (he'd taken me there before) and that he wanted to get me there straight away. He was full of lust for me again, even though we'd only done it a couple of nights before. I knew that once he got me into the bedroom, we'd never get to eat or anything. I was annoyed that he assumed all I wanted was sex from him.
I was even more annoyed at myself, I guess, because despite my anger, I still went along with his plan. Unable to help myself, or so it felt. And about ten minutes later, after a dash through the heavy evening traffic, I found myself drawing the curtains in Room 218, and undressing in front of him, his cock straining in his pants as he lay on the bed. I wish I'd been able to tell him to get lost. That's how I felt afterwards, anyway.
But I guess I've learnt to love sex over the last few weeks, and the contemplation of sex in those long, lonely years beforehand, and so - almost in a dream - I removed my bra (but kept my panties on, as he's the one that always used to like to remove those) and got into bed with him, shivering in the expectation of that first touch between my legs. His cock now pressed hard against my tummy as he kissed me passionately on my neck (yet more love bites to hide from my Mum and Dad, and the girls at work....)
I didn't want sex, or that's what I'd thought in the car, and yet here I was with him nibbling on my nipples and nuzzling his nose into my private parts! I didn't want sex, or so my brain had been telling me, and yet my panties were now around my ankles and he was using his nose to open my outer lips! I suppose letting myself go, after keep telling myself that I didn't want him tonight, seemed to make the sex all the better.
It was only after we'd both cum, the towel under my bottom soaking with my juices, that I finally had the courage to say what I wanted to say: and that "conversation" eventually turned into a row and me going home on a jeepney - never to see him again, I hope. All the things I'd wanted to tell him suddenly came flooding out - all the petty annoyances that I'd suffered from him were told to him straight.
In the time that I knew him I think we did it nine times. First in my familiar single bed at home, and then at a couple of different hotels. The hotel where he took me on Saturday seemed exciting on our third date. He'd only just taken my virginity, and I really wanted him again. I didn't notice that it was dingy then, or that all the staff (including the chambermaids) knew exactly why you were there, and told Ben to just telephone if we wanted our sheets changed. All I could think about back then was getting into bed with him. The sensation of having a man inside me was still new. Now I was angry that I'd let him take me there again.
I suppose it was on our fifth time together that I'd started to have doubts about my "lover". He started suggesting that I dress up in particular ways, as if our sex together wasn't enough for him. I realise I might have seemed a bit tame for him, and I did keep stopping him whenever he penetrated me because I was frightened I was going to wet the bed. That's the feeling I had down there. And a totally new feeling it was.
A friend who advises me on my love life has now told me to have other boyfriends. To get to know men better. I know that since I met Ben, I've noticed other men more and not less - even when I thought I was falling in love with him. And I think about them differently now. Thinking how they might be as lovers. I still hope to find true love, though, and not just sex. What, I wonder, are my chances of that?