+18 years

Goodbye Max… The Canadian is as cowardly as the others…

Finally, I put my legs on his. His eyes went through the curves of my legs, lingering on the top of my thighs, his eyes lit up, the man was awake.

Max pleasure, Photo by Dainis Graveris on Unsplash

When pleasure is spoiled by waiting and frustration, is it still worth it?

Ah Max, how can I not get carried away when he represents so many things that I love in a man? I wouldn’t have thought you’d be such a coward, Max. Of course, I know he’s not looking for a relationship, and neither am I, for that matter. Of course, it’s mostly sexual, I’m not a two-week-old bunny and I know that the signs are more in the red of sexual passion than in the green of the lawn where we’ll raise our children.

And yet, my heart, or maybe just a little piece of it, has gone wild.

A few hours after my blog post, when I was already burying this story under a certain weariness and a little sadness, I sent a last pole, a humorous gif. He took it.

I wasn’t very proud, I had still cracked, I had still been there looking for him, after several days without a sign of life.

And then he answered, naturally, as if nothing had happened, and suggested a night out the next day.

I could have made myself desirable, told him that no, I wasn’t available, that I had something planned. But no, the desire was too strong, I hadn’t seen him for almost a week and I didn’t want to wait any longer.

The appointment I’m not waiting for anymore…

The next day, our 9:30 turned into 10:00. I had plenty of time, and I was going to take it.

When I arrived in front of his inn, I waited a few minutes for him to come out. I noticed right away that something had changed on his face! My God, he had cut off the moustache from his beard. It made his face look rounder, and he was a little less handsome. He looked a little Mormon like that.

His kiss was shyer than usual. My cold hand in his big, warm paw was trying somehow to convey my envy to him.

I felt him more embarrassed, maybe a little more distant, I don’t know. I felt him a little elsewhere.

We took the road to the park, the first park that had hosted our nightly frolics. But the full moon lit up the park so brightly that it was impossible to find a single place dark enough to be discreet.

We sat down on a bench, I wanted him to touch me, to look at me with his usual intense gaze, to possess me with his hands, to awaken in him the bear that made me so hot.

More distant

But he preferred to talk a little, he seemed slightly anxious about the situation, wondering whether to stay or leave, what would happen to him if he lost his job. We talked a little bit about it, I understood that it was probably part of the reason for his silence, although I think that another factor, more hairy and blond, was really the cause.

Finally, I put my legs on his.  His eyes went through the curves of my legs, lingering on the top of my thighs, his eyes lit up, the man was awake. I plunged my inflamed pupils into his, I opened my legs, giving him the opportunity to slide his hand under my skirt. It was enough for his fingers to slip under the lace, triggering my sighs…

It was almost forgotten that we were on a bench, in full view of everyone, and that if someone walked by, they would have no trouble guessing what was going on under the little cloth that covered my intimacy.

Damn Moon

It was when his desire, stretched out under his shorts, wanted to get some fresh air, that we realized that we couldn’t decently go on there in the middle of the park, in the middle of the light, at not so late an hour.

He took his hand away, I put the panties and skirt back on, he couldn’t help but run a few fingers over my buttocks as I stood up.

We went in search of a dark corner, a corner in the shadow of the eyes. My eyes went through every patch of grass, every bench, every tree or bush, in vain, the moonlight left no room for mischief in our favorite little square, Russell Square, of his little name.

In search of a dark corner

I despaired, turning my head from right to left, shaking Max’s hand harder, grabbing him so as not to let him go. Because I could feel him going somewhere else, losing his drive, losing his desire, while mine was just growing.

Finally I surrendered, and I had the idea of a park a little further away, I confided my new idea to him, his eyes regained depth, his hand became more pressing, and he followed me docile and mischievous. I found the Max again, from before, I was afraid he would fly away again.

We passed his inn again, we crossed the street, he pushed me against a wall, began to devour my neck, pressing me against him, blowing his desire on me. The bird was in its cage, the rest of the evening was going to be hot.

When the excitement is too much

Finally, we didn’t even reach the park I was thinking of, we turned three streets before, in a dark alleyway overlooking a stretch of grass protected from view by a few trees. It was still clear, but desire doesn’t wait, and out of sight of the street, between a large eucalyptus tree and a bench, I laid out the towel, to welcome our frolics. The shyness of the beginning of the evening had left Max, he was boiling with desire, the skirt, the lace, the shorts gave way to a deep moment of pleasure. His strength, his way of possessing me made my pleasure ever more intense, and the few well-chosen words whispered in my ear made the last strands of my restraint fly away. I let the orgasm invade me, before welcoming his.

We rolled to the side, out of breath, he took me in his arms, when we heard someone coming behind us. Neither one nor two, we put our clothes back on, only a few seconds later, a dog passed a few meters away from us, followed by his master. Our eyes met, dismayed, embarrassed but hilarious, we had had a narrow escape.

Cut off in my impulse

We sat down on the bench, continuing to cuddle, imagining what the reaction might have been to the little boy who was walking his companion. Silence replaced laughter, mosquito bites replaced caresses, and the tender hug became colder and more distant. I could feel him moving away from me a little, he suggested I go home before I was covered with pimples. I nodded my head, disappointed, I would have liked more, I would have liked to stay in his arms all night long, I would have liked to start again and not stop any more.

We left the park, walked the few streets together, and at the crossroads of his street and mine, we hugged each other, he grabbed me even harder than usual, I told him I liked it, he knew it, he whispered to me…

After a last moment in his arms, everyone went back to their homes.

He finally proposed

My heart was both light and heavy, I felt that he was slipping away from me, but I couldn’t help smiling when I thought of him. The heart has its reasons, which reason ignores, as they say! But why my little heart always fights against my reason.

In the days that followed he gave little news, but some anyway, I was used to his silence now, I was more in control of my own flow of words, and I tried as much as I could to avoid making a fool of myself in long speeches.

It was he who proposed three days later to see each other again, he seemed to have a naughty spirit. Unfortunately, I had my period, and I just suggested to him to meet for a little treat, it excited me to do it for him. He was enthusiastic, and just a few minutes later we met again, he was waiting for me, biting into a naughty looking apple. He was a sexy… Whoa, I’m gonna be frustrated tonight, I thought. Well, that’s the game, and I hope he remembers it…

Desire on legs

He took me in his arms, took the opportunity to touch my buttocks through my linen jumpsuit, which he said allowed him to touch my beautiful shapes in complete freedom. I completed by saying that it was also a way for me to prevent me from doing stupid things other than a little treat.

His breath smelled like apples, and his kisses were more than evocative of the desire that was growing in his jeans. This time it was his hands that guided me to the park the previous time, we crossed the lawn, he took me to a bench, a little in the shadow of the eyes.

The kiss became even hotter, the hands more wandering and very quickly mine unbuttoned his trousers.

Thank you rules for frustration

He tried to touch me under and through my suit, he seemed as frustrated as I was that he couldn’t give me as much pleasure as my lips gave him.

It was a hand on my breast and one touching my fruit through the cloth that he enjoyed. We sat back, hugging each other for a long time, the hug was softer and more tender than usual. I thought I had found him for good.

After several minutes, disturbed by another master and his bulldog, we decided to go home. Same path, slightly different conversation, same hug, and we planned to meet again as soon as my period ended to compensate for this frustration.

This time my heart was light and my mind had been silenced.

I’d like to tell you, that no, this is not the last time we saw each other… But yes, it is the last time.

Too many messages

Yes, it’s a bit my fault, but it’s also his, and it’s also the fault of carelessness, alcohol and above all a desire that wasn’t mutual.

To sum up, the following Friday (two days later), I had been drinking (yes, I don’t know about texting when you drink), I sent something a bit ridiculous, like “I’m going to fall asleep thinking about your hands running all over my naked body”, he rightly made fun of me. Then I rewrote the next day, first about my au pair job, he was nice, he answered, understood my doubts and so on. Then alcohol again, I ask him if he wants to meet me, he’s too drunk. I send him a picture to make him want to. White cabbage, he won’t see it until the next day.

Anyway, I wrote a bit too much, but he kept answering.

Nothing alarming, then after no message for a few days, I too play the king of silence, too bad, I’m tired of always being the one who begs, I deserve more.

Well then a few days later, having too much desire to see him again, I forget my resolutions to be a queen (for Charles and Mathieu) and I answer a story insta where his huge foot is next to that of a bitch, sorry for a girl… I get carried away, I get carried away.

Chlamydia invites itself

I’m sending him “That confirms the adage”, because yes, sir, he’s quite well hung. He answers quickly jokingly, in my mind mini me dancing the polka ! Except that quickly, he tells me he has a urinary tract infection. I teach him that it’s a recurrent symptom in case of Chlamydia in men. It’s true that to be honest the first night, we hadn’t always been serious about the condom.

I panic a little, I had done some tests, but I had an accident with one of my booty calls. Besides, I never suck with a condom (so I might as well not do anything in this case). So I wonder if it’s coming from him or from me. Anyway, the important thing is to test and treat, not to point out the guilty party.

I’m taking matters into my own hands. The next day I do all the steps and two days later I am tested. Max replies to my messages, he seems to take it a bit lightly, and lets himself be guided. I take the treatment even before the results and less than a week after this first alarm, I tell him. He will take the steps on his own. I ask him to keep me informed if possible, which he approves.


Almost a week later, no news, I send the farewell message. Putting my hopes aside, but regaining a little pride.

“The power seems to be out… I hope you’ve taken the necessary steps (for the next ones obviously), but that’s not my point…

Funny, I thought more of you than you’ve ever shown me. I would have thought that the great Canadian in his rangers that you were, would have been more honest, more straight in his boots as they say. I wish you had told me, a few weeks ago, that you preferred another one, that I was boring you, you could have even invented an old lie out of thin air.

You preferred that sweet, bitter, horrible silence. Chlamydia or not, my ego would have suffered the same fate. Not crushed, and fortunately… , but a little peeled… Like an eggplant after a peel. You could’ve been sincere and I’ll admit I resent that. It’s a pity. I liked our night outings, I probably put too much energy into them, but what could have carried me away then? The boredom was deep and endless”.

The end of our messages will end with his “Sorry… I’ve been on my side.”.

Final farewell Max! It was nice while it lasted.

Translated with (free version)

4 replies on “Goodbye Max… The Canadian is as cowardly as the others…”

Leave a Reply