Please note this post follows on from Part 2. The story continues directly.
Chapter 1: The Shy Boy, part 3.
THE MORNING AFTER
I did not sleep well in Scott’s bed despite the lovely, soft comforter and the equally lovely and soft human next to me. His dog got under the covers with us, and tried to sleep in between us as often as possible. I would usually have found this cute, but this dog had already made it very clear how she felt about me, and I didn’t really want to sleep naked – except for my red panties – next to her. Scott moved her over to his side of the bed every time that he woke up and discovered her lying in between us, but she just made her way back again when he had fallen asleep again. But it wasn’t just the dog. My brain felt restless. I hadn’t drunk alcohol in about 3 weeks and I had had 4 drinks while we were at the bar and then the club and my stomach was protesting; feeling sensitive and sore. All in all I had around 3 hours of sleep on-and-off.
Scott woke up about 2 hours before his alarm, at around 7am, perhaps due to my restlessness. He smiled at me, kissing my forehead and then my nose. He was remarkably affectionate to me that morning in bed, and throughout the night previously. I was quite surprised by this because we had not defined our relationship; or in fact spoken about it at all in any way, shape or form. We had developed a clear friendship over the months we had chatted over text and online, and we had now clearly established an attraction to one another, but what did sleeping together mean? Maybe something, maybe nothing. I wasn’t sure yet. I had spoken to Scott a lot about being polyamorous and he was fully aware that I had a primary partner back home (I can’t keep referring to him as my primary partner it’s too long and clunky. Let’s go with…Ron). He even admitted having facebook stalked Ron and I to try and see what he looked like, and find out more about our relationship, having never met someone openly polyamorous before. While Scott did say he understood my inability to be monogamous, he said little else regarding how he felt about my polyamory, and about the fact that I was already in a primary relationship. And thus I was surprised by his affection: I usually associate cuddling and affection with relationships in most cases, and more of a physical distance with a one-night-stand vibe. Most of my one-night-stands have not included cuddling or kissing after sex, and very little communication the next morning. A kind of “wham, bam, go away now so I can go back to my life.” I have not had a lot of success in sleeping with friends, it usually ends awkwardly and ruins the friendship (which is annoying and frustrating). And so I had no idea what to expect from Scott.
I liked the fact that he was being affectionate, it made me feel as though we were still close, and that this could turn into some kind of sexual relationship. Scott got out of bed to brush his teeth (I had learnt in my short time there that this boy was obsessed with dental hygiene and brushing his teeth before kissing me much) and so I followed suit and did the same. Looking into the bathroom mirror I realized I looked a bit like a cave woman, with smudged eye makeup and scary, disheveled hair. I tried to smooth my hair out and wipe away my raccoon eyes, without making it look like I had put too much effort into it, as he looked just as good the next morning as he had the night before. As soon as I came back he immediately pulled me onto the bed next to him and he began kissing me. I have always been a fan of an early morning orgasm and so I was instantly wet. He pulled my hips towards him and slipped his fingers underneath my panties as I opened my legs for him. As he explored me with his fingers, I reached out to take hold of his cock and began to give him a handjob. As the mutual masturbation continued and he played with my clit I started to lose my focus. I think the handjob suffered as my mind kept drifting off to bliss. I soon came, with my face buried in his neck, my hand on his cock and my body spasming. After about ten seconds of recovery, I pushed him onto his back, got underneath the blanket and went down on him again. In the same way that I have no idea where to look while receiving oral sex, I equally have no idea where to look while giving it. I know that in porn movies the girls usually look up at the man they are sucking, but alas I have not yet reached porn star confidence. So I was hidden beneath the blanket and he did not attempt to lift it at all. The one problem I have experienced often from going down on someone under a blanket is the increasing feeling of heat and suffocation. I can’t say I am into that. And then the eternal conundrum: Do you spit or swallow? If you’re a guy, do you presume she wants you to come in her mouth, or do you pull out? I have heard very strong opinions on both sides of this one. A female friend I bartended with once said, “If a guy is going to go down on you with all that wetness, the least you can do is swallow.” Another female friend described it as “warm, salty yogurt” and was not a fan of it. A male friend of mine mentioned that he felt it was disrespectful of a woman to presume that it was okay to come in her mouth. And then you get the idiots you have watched too much porn, see themselves as pornstars and presume you want them to come all over your face. No, we really don’t. At least not every time.
I personally usually pull away just before a man comes and use my hand alone for those last few seconds. It’s not that I dislike the taste of it, I don’t, it’s just that the actual act of swallowing it I sometimes find a bit weird. And I don’t know if spitting it out is considered rude. Also, where do you spit it? Do you get up and run away with cum in your mouth? That doesn’t seem like the sexiest, or even politest option. So I decided to leave it up to Scott in this situation: If he indicated he was about to come I would move my mouth away, if he didn’t I would just carry on. He ended up coming quite quickly, and being the silent lover that he is, I had no idea it was going to happen. Suddenly he let out a soft sigh and came in my mouth. My first instinct was to spit it out, but I caught myself half way through, and swallowed. I wiped my mouth, the back of my throat now warm and lay back next to him, saying “Sorry” and gesturing to the small combination of saliva and cum lying on his pubic area. He shrugged and said “No need to apologise.” I rolled over, and he drew me to him, and we spooned like that for a while as I felt his erection gradually subside. His alarm went off and we realized it was 9am.
Scott had mentioned the day before that if I stayed over I would need to come along with him to his University, and hang around while he had one class and then one meeting, and that then we would go out to lunch. The restaurant he had in mind was located near to where my brother works, and so Scott decided he would drop me off at my brother’s work at 6pm so that my brother could drive me back to our side of town. In other words, we were going to be forced to spend the entire day together, til 6pm. That morning I thought this would be an awesome thing, the prospect of hanging out all day with this awesome guy who I had had awesome sex with. I was wrong.
OH GOD THE AWKWARD
I mentioned that I could really use some coffee, and so we began to get out of bed. I realized that I had given Scott a small love bite on his neck the night before. I casually mentioned this to him, and immediately his demeanor changed. He asked “How big?” And I tried to assure him it was very small, but he got out of bed to go and look at it. He came back into the room looking very unhappy, so I added “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I must have gotten a bit carried away.” I meant that as a compliment, and to try to ease the sudden tension in the room. But he said nothing, and just started putting his pajamas back on. So I got up and did the same. I followed him through to the kitchen and mentioned that I thought he had a really nice set up there. To which he responded, “Yeah I share this section with my parents though.” I sat down at the counter while Scott found a coffee plunger and tried to locate some coffee. He found some sachets, and asked if they would be alright, and I said, “I’m sure they will be” actually having no idea, I haven’t seen a lot of filter coffee that comes in a sachet… It was at about this point that I realized that Scott had no idea how to use a coffee plunger. He asked me if I did, and I said yes, but instead of giving it to me and letting me do it, he decided to go around the kitchen looking for a cookbook to tell him how to use it. I mean it’s a coffee plunger, not Fermat’s theorem! So I offered to try, again, and this time he gave it to me, while opening a cookbook (no doubt one of his mother’s) and trying to lookup how much coffee to use, and how long to leave it for. I, being a coffee addict, have known both those things since I was 12. So I put some coffee in and put the kettle on to boil. At this point, I heard a parrot screech and Scott mentioned, “Oh my mother is about to come through”. Apparently there is a parrot on the other side of the house that screeches when anyone walks past. Not having any energy to deal with the mother of the young boy I had just enjoyably played around with sexually, twice, I offered, “Should I go back to your room then?” And he said, “No, please stay.” Fuck… And I did. In she came, this housewife dressed in a silk dressing gown, into her kitchen. My presence clearly surprised her, as she widened her eyes and stopped in her tracks as soon as she saw me. She tried to recover, and not let me see her shock, as she said sweetly, “Oh, hello there. What a surprise.” Scott just smiled at her, clearly getting a kick out of this. I had inadvertently become a weapon against this boy’s – clearly conservative – mother. He said to her, “We were just trying to figure out how to use the plunger?” Um, no, Scott, we were not. I CAN USE A PLUNGER! So she came over and took it away from me, decided I had put too little coffee in it, and took over the coffee making process. While she was doing this, she decided to engage me in awkward conversation seeing as how Scott was being completely silent. She asked me where I was from, what I was studying etc etc. I did not want to be rude to this woman, but I did not feel like engaging in conversation either considering the current context we were in, so I tried to answer her, but as succinctly as possible. Eventually she left the kitchen, giving me strict instructions to push down the plunger after exactly 4 minutes.
And so Scott and I engaged in awkward cereal eating, and coffee drinking. I laughed and shook my head at the situation after his mom had left, but he said nothing. I reached out with my foot and I ran it along his leg, and he responded by smiling at me and putting his hand on my leg for a bit, but everything had started to feel strange, and forced. We went back to his room where he asked me if I wanted to shower, and I declined, knowing that I had none of my hair products with me and scared that my hair would go horribly frizzy without them. So he went off to shower. Scott spent about half an hour in the shower. I don’t know what he was doing in there, perhaps contemplating the complex nature of coffee plungers, but it felt like a century. I got dressed, cleaned up a bit, and waited. And waited. And waited. I snooped around his bookshelf a bit, but then got bored. I was also completely freezing. The weather had changed and I had only brought some 3 quarter pants with me to change into, with a Chinese style short sleeved top and a light coat. He eventually emerged from the shower, and offered to lend me some of his socks to go with my ankle boots, seeing how freezing I was. I accepted. He got dressed in front of me, but as soon he was dry and fully clothed I felt an immediate distance coming from him. I tried to get one last kiss in before we left. I held onto his jacket and pulled him towards me, but he turned it into a soft peck and then pulled away, with the comment “No more biting from you”, obviously referring to his love bite. And so we left for campus.
On the drive I started trying to ask him pointed questions so that I knew how to behave around him. I asked him how he felt about Public Displays of Affection, and he said he didn’t really mind them if they are with a girlfriend, but otherwise he tends to avoid them. I spoke a little bit about Ron, I can’t really remember how he came up in conversation, and then I offered to not speak about him if it made Scott feel uncomfortable? He said, “No, it’s fine, he is a part of your life, so talk about him.” And things kind of grew quiet. He offered to show me a famous monument I had never been to before; he usually parks there as it is quite near campus and parking on campus is virtually impossible. We looked at it, and then started the remarkably long walk down to campus. Scott was walking very fast, and I was struggling to keep up, but trying not to show him how out of breath I was, afraid he would think of me as very unfit. We eventually got down to campus about 15 to 20 mins later, and he gave me a very brief tour before dashing off to his class. This campus is much bigger than my own, and I felt a bit overwhelmed. So I found the nearest coffee shop, got some more coffee to try wake myself up some more, and found a newspaper to read. As I waited for about an hour I got increasingly more tired, my lack of sleep catching up with me. Eventually Scott re-appeared and took me to a separate part of campus where there was a different coffee shop and a café selling food. We ran into someone he knew, and he introduced me as his friend, and then we sat there with her for a bit. They were chatting mainly about things and people I didn’t know much about, such as when assignments were due, what mutual friends were up to and the like. I tried to be friendly, but wasn’t really involved in the conversation, and was becoming increasingly more grumpy and tired as the day wore on. She left, and so Scott and I wondered around for a bit, coming across a Samsung expo. To my surprise Scott was extremely rude to the salespeople there as he complained about how big their latest cellphones were, and declining their offer of free t shirts and mugs. I happen to like free stuff, but I didn’t dare take any for fear of judgment from Scott who seemed to be becoming increasingly weirder.
Scott wandered off to his meeting, and I was left to read my fantasy novel. I was extremely hungry by this point, and even though I knew Scott wanted to take me out for lunch, it was approaching 2pm, and so I bought some food from the café anyway. I would just pretend I hadn’t eaten. I actually considered putting my head down at this random table in this building and sleeping, but I was afraid of being robbed, and so decided against it. Reading just made me sleepier, and so I had even more coffee to try wake myself up, but it just seemed to be making me jittery. I bought some bubblegum in case Scott decided to kiss me, but I need not have worried. By the time Scott got back to me at around 2:30pm, it was pouring with rain outside. We had to trudge back up the hill getting absolutely soaked, some of the way through ankle deep mud and splashing all over my bare legs. By the time we got to his car I was literally shivering all over, my wet hair sticking to my face. As we had gone up the path way I made a joke about being unfit, because I was trying again not to show him how out of breath I was, but was failing horribly. He made a snide comment about how being healthy means being fit. I responded sarcastically with, “Thank you, Captain Health Conscious!” and a salute. We barely spoke in the car, I was beginning to feel hurt by his distance, and this coupled with my irritability and exhaustion did not make me feel like talking. We parked, and had to run in the rain to the restaurant a few blocks away. Because I was tired of not knowing where I was standing with him, I decided this was a great time to bring up sex.
I asked if he often had one night stands, to which he responded, “No, not often,” and then I ventured, “Well, me neither. I really dislike sleeping with someone and then never speaking to them again, it just seems ridiculous.” To this he responded, “Oh, well I will keep that in mind.” I didn’t know how to take that. Had he been intending to stop speaking to me? Had the day been that bad? Were we no longer friends? Had a one-night-stand all he had been after? So I asked, “Well is it something you would want to do again?” He nearly tripped and fell over when I asked this. Maybe due to not being used to directness, or out of sheer horror at the thought, who can tell? “Do IT again?” – I don’t know why he emphasized IT so hectically, but he did. “You mean, have a relationship?” he asked. Apparently to Scott having sex with one person more than once is a relationship. So I replied, “No, I just meant, you know, randomly hookup.” So he responded, “Well it certainly wasn’t unpleasant, don’t think that. I don’t know, I just like to take things as they come.” We had arrived at the restaurant by now, and were seated. I did not feel as though our conversation was over, as there was more I wanted to discuss. So I asked him if he had had much sex this year, and he looked a bit sheepish and replied, “No, none at all this year actually. I’ve been very busy.” So I thought maybe if he knew that Ron and don’t have sex very much that it might make him feel more comfortable (I blame my exhaustion for my idiocy at bringing up my sex life with Ron at this point in time), and he just stared at me open mouthed and gestured to the people around us, as if he could not believe I was talking about sex in restaurant. Now I hadn’t actually mentioned sex at all, I had been using euphemisms, and the actual sentence had been, “I’m not judging, Ron and I actually have a very strange relationship, we don’t really” (insert hand gesture here) “very often.” So I said, “What? I haven’t said anything, I am using euphemisms,” and he gave me quite a mocking disbelieving look and said, “That’s like saying, “When was the last time you had a Oogie Boogie Burger?”” (We were at a restaurant with really strange burger names, and he was referring to one on the menu, I can’t remember what it was, so Oogie Boogie Burger it is.). I don’t know if it was the way he said it, so judgmentally, or what he said or both, but I was incredibly embarrassed. I flushed bright red, and stared down at my drink and went totally silent. Basically, he had been embarrassed to be there with me, talking about this. And that really hurt. He tried to mumble something about how he had been joking, but then halfway said, “Never mind.”
We sat in awkward silence for a while, and then spoke a bit about potential career hopes, and he told me I should get my food take away because they wrap it up in a foil swan. When I did, and it came in a box he was sad, and went on a lament about the lack of a foil swan. We were basically just speaking to each other because we had to, we needed to kill time til 5,30pm when we would leave to meet my brother. FINALLY, it was time to go, and we left. He parked outside the boomgate leading towards my brother’s building, and I just sat there for a bit. I didn’t know what to say to him, and I didn’t know how this day had all gone so wrong. I apologized at that point for being so tired. He said he had been wondering if he needed to make amends for something, and I mentioned my embarrassment at the restaurant, how I didn’t think I had been talking that loudly, and didn’t understand why it was a big deal. He said he was sorry if he offended me. I explained that I was just feeling irritable and sensitive thanks to the exhaustion. He commented, “Oh okay, that’s a lot of separate things.” I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Then he asked, “Why are you so exhausted?” And I mentioned that I didn’t sleep well. He suddenly looked quite offended and said, “Oh, was it because you were sleeping next to a strange man?” As that had not been the case at all, I really really didn’t want him to think that, and I said no, my brain just wouldn’t switch off, but I don’t know if he believed me. Not knowing what else to say, I hugged him goodbye, he said he would text me, and I opened his door, accidentally scraping the bottom edge lightly against the sidewalk as the door flew out of my hand as we were parked on an incline. I grabbed it, and quickly pulled it off, and he tensely said, “try not to let go of it.” I nodded, and slammed the door, managing to close it even as it tried to knock me over. I ran through the rain away from his car feeling utterly sad.
I sent him a message shortly after he dropped me thanking him for everything, and he responded, “I hope a stranger will show me around their town someday.” So we were strangers then I guess. I didn’t hear from Scott again that evening, nor the next morning. I sent him am message stating that I was staying with a friend that Saturday evening, and that it was nearby to him, and I could be dropped off at his place Sunday morning if he was keen. No reply. I sent him a message mentioning I was leaving on Tuesday. No reply. Much later in the evening, emboldened by alcohol, I sent him a message which said, “Should I take your lack of responses as a sign that I should just write this thing off?” He replied with, “Sorry hang on.” Then nothing.
On Monday afternoon, after still nothing (not sure what I was s’posed to be hanging on for) I bit the bullet and messaged him again, feeling incredibly sad, as this was someone who, before this incident, I had talked to everyday by text, and considered a friend. I said, “I just thought you should know that I am incredibly hurt by your ignoring of me and lack of responses because I kind of thought we were still going to be friends. I guess I won’t be seeing you again. Enjoy graduation.” He responded with, “I’m sorry. Thursday and Friday were incredibly busy and I have needed time alone since then.” It felt like a pretty lame excuse seeing as how I was only in town for a few days, but I responded with, “You could have just told me that. It would have made me feel a lot less crap.” No reply.
A few days later, not able to shake my feelings of insecurity this experience had brought on, I messaged him again looking for more answers. I asked if he had been upset with me. I mentioned I had a great time with him Thursday evening, and that I was sorry the day had gotten weird. He said that human interaction exhausts him, that he had been with me, and then been to a function, and that it had totally drained him. And that seemed to be all he was willing to say. I asked if it was possible if we would go back to not being weird, and he said sure, and we chatted a bit, about superficial trivial things. He has barely messaged me since then, and so, unfortunately, things HAVE been weird. When I touched down in my next city, I let him know I had arrived and that I was sorry I hadn’t been able to see more of him while I was in Place by the Sea. He responded with, “Don’t worry about it 🙂 We have forever to hangout again.” Indeed. A very convenient thing to say when I have just flown 18 hours away.
Typing this all up has made me realize how sad this whole thing made me, and also reminded me that I need to learn when it is no longer worth the effort, when to stop texting people, and also to be careful of letting my emotions get involved. I miss talking to Scott, and I still have no idea what really caused him to decide not to see me again while I was there. I have no idea if we will ever meet up again in person. Even if I do move to Place by the Sea, I somehow doubt it.
Next time: Chapter 2: The Almost Threesome from Hell