Max, Photo by Dainis Graveris on Unsplash
Max and I couldn’t end our nighttime getaways right away. He had awakened in me a ferocious appetite, an uncontrollable desire to start over, to start over again, all the time, in a big bed, in an alley or at the foot of a tree. I felt insatiable and terribly obsessed by this man who looked like a lumberjack.
Max dead on the hook
I had too much time on my hands, too many desires, too much need for something exciting in my life. So I put aside my pride, I wrote, too much as usual, but the tone was good at first. And soon we saw each other again.
Two days after my little adventure with nice James, a little naughty reminder by message was enough to make the giant react. We met in front of his hostel, to talk. The discussion was very brief and hardly a usual good evening that our naughty eyes met again, that our pupils sparkled with the same desire. Our mouths had no trouble recognizing each other, printing the same kiss. That powerful kiss that made me faint, broke the last instincts of decency in me, and set my desire ablaze.
After the park, the alley
He seemed almost surprised that we couldn’t restrain ourselves, the courtesies, the looks, the comfort, none of it mattered, our bodies had to meet, embrace, complement each other.
Our mouths parted for a moment to let us take a few steps, letting our greedy looks look for a dark corner out of sight. While my pupils were still scanning the surrounding streets, the powerful hand of my lover pulled me into the alley. At the corner of a fibula, a square meter of darkness seemed like a corner of paradise to me at that moment…
We hurried, his sturdy hands felt me, he surrounded me, almost crushing me under his fingers. I felt both protected and wanted.
Our gestures became more and more sensual, the skirt was lifted, the lace was spread, and the pleasure exacerbated.
It was full, and a little disconcerted by the speed at which everything had happened that we prayed in our arms. A soft, warm, so frail (for once) cuddle in his arms ended this moment.
A last kiss in front of his inn and we part.
My brain goes wild for Max
It is obvious that this relationship was purely sexual, that what connected us was above all our desire.
But my brain was spinning, out of inspiration, with a shortage of prey (bars and clubs now closed …), I ended up getting attached and getting ideas. Too many messages, as always, and far too much waiting.
My little stay in Margaret River calmed my eagerness a little.
Then we agreed to meet on Tuesday evening, the day after my return, for a wine and cheese evening.
The perfect date
It was at 6pm that we met, a plaid, two wine glasses, a bottle of red and cheese, I had everything planned.
With the plaid stretched out, he lay nonchalantly on it, looking at me with a naughty eye. We hadn’t even uncorked the bottle and already the evening was taking the same turn. We kissed, leaning over him, I couldn’t help noticing the desire that was born under his fly. It was still too bright for his hand, which was becoming more and more of a wanderer, not to be noticed by the passers-by.
Amused, and wanting to deepen our exchange a little more, I backed up and pushed him a little so that we could start our little aperitif.
The discussion was going well, I was laughing a lot, even if sometimes I perceived that it wasn’t as fluid as I would have liked.
But it was a beautiful evening and the complicity was gradually emerging, the only shadow on the horizon … The mosquitoes, it was barely if a piece of the skin of my legs was still virgin of bites.
The second bottle set the situation ablaze
We decided to get a second bottle, go to his hostel to get some mosquito repellent, and settle down in the park where we had met for the first time.
It was difficult for us to get out of the plaid, the darkness having set in, our mouths found and our gestures accoquined. We began to warm up and to awaken a desire that was not about to stop.
After a few increasingly adventurous gestures, I finally put an end to it and we ended up following our little program, spotting here and there the dark corners for our possible future escapades.
Arrivals at the second park, confidences and glasses of wine made this meeting a little more romantic and a little more serious. I found it even more charming and endearing. Be careful, my daughter, it’s not a lover that you’re looking for. But the damage was probably already done.
It’s getting out of hand in the best possible way…
I promised her a massage. A massage that ended the romance and put our bodies back in motion.
It did not take long for him to possess me again, and the fear of being seen became secondary to his caresses and fervour.
He had his room all to himself, it was time to enjoy it. We broke away a little reluctantly, and ran almost to his inn.
Two mattresses were thrown on the floor, and all the positions and desires we had were fulfilled. We were like two wrestlers, sweating with pleasure.
A second round and we finally fell asleep.
His hand searched several times for my body. But his desire remained silent.
Max cold in the morning
That night I slept little and badly, devoured by a nasty spider, but my heart was light-hearted, celebrating, ready to plunge into deep silliness.
In the morning, it was colder, I made myself small, left him without being prayed to, letting him have breakfast and go to work, it wasn’t even 6 o’clock and I was planning to go back to bed.
The messages of the next day were warm, for him and for me. I had a heart full of hope, a desire to start again immediately, to isolate myself with him, to enjoy him again and again, to snuggle and disappear in his arms.
Max, please write to me!!!
Then the following days, the messages became rarer, less hot, more expeditious.
Desperate and sad, I sent him a bottle to the sea on Saturday night.
Already lying down, he ended up letting himself be tempted, and coming out of his inn, I came to get him, we hurried to join our little dark and paradisiacal peroneum.
The alley gets used to it
It was brief but very intense, it was less tender and wilder, it bit my neck, grabbed me, devoured me again and again.
Our frolic didn’t last long, and he hugged me tightly afterwards, as if to keep me longer against him.
Afterwards, maybe it was a farewell hug, a last hug to remember, to anchor his memory, his smell.
I’ll probably never know. A few laconic messages, doubts, silence, hopes dashed, and here I am… At the dawn of a period of indeterminate abstinence…
But finally, there was a sequel with my great Max…