The second time around.
It was hard at first getting used to not being with Jamie any more.
We were soul mates, and vowed that absolutely, nothing would ever come between us.
Everything seemed to be working out fine, emotionally and physically. We seemed to hit it off and our companionship, as well as our sex life, made great strides; every time we fucked it was fresh and uncomplicated. We always showed consideration for one another. In the physical sense, we'd talk about it first, to ensure we were mutually compatible to take on a new venture in our lovemaking style.
That is how it always felt with Jamie. I loved him completely and I thought he felt the same way about me, right up until the last time we fucked when, deep up inside me, he told me that there could never be anyone else - that I was the best lover and fuck in the world and he would never tire of me.
In appreciation, I wildly sucked him directly after intercourse - forgetting about all the modern concerns for hygiene and aids. We never used condoms because I wanted to enjoy the feel of real flesh inside, the exception being when Jamie wanted to try the latest Japanese ribbed condom in me, which was nice but never as nice as the feel of his cock when he bent and twisted it going into me, and we discovered the sensual art of mutual movements. I bent over - moving from side to side in all sorts of contortions, which made for wonderful and enjoyable thrilling fucks.
It didn't matter that some of the residue from my passage smeared his fresh fucked cock. To me I grew an appetite for the combined flavour, which resulted from our sex juices -and it made for a wonderful finale to our passionate sessions.
But exciting too was the way he loved to bind me with straps and gag me with his underwear, hold me across his knee and lavish my hole with lots of massage and cream, he'd smack my hind and experimented with all manner of things, like garnishing me with squirty creams and spaghetti numbers which made for a wonderful sensual experience,
Somehow I felt I belonged to Jamie and was there for him to do just what he wanted and liked with me.
Looking back though, I now realize he used me and all that crap about my having quality ass and being the best ass fuck ever, now means nothing because he has bloody well moved in with a colored guy, and by dumping me, he hurt me very much in saying this guy new how to move, that once you have tried black you will never go back, which he meant he'd never come back to me.
So I was left shattered and gutted. I hated him for what he had done. But it didn't stop me hungering for him, the feeling inside was still there, the feel of his cock simmering in my ass.
It took a while to get over him. Even masturbating with memories stopped working - I was near to suicide but if there is a God he must have felt sorry for me, because; along came Pete when least expected.
Pete was a guy twice my age, around his early forties I'd say. But he had wonderful charisma and although at first I felt nothing for him, the notion grew that this guy, being older and more mature would fit my needs.
All he did initially was to touch my knee in the library. I was looking for the latest book by Alex Carr called The Passion of Karma because I enjoy his stuff so much.
"What are you looking for?" this guy asked, brushing deliberately against me.
