128. The Mauritian (part 2)

The Mauritian and I had made tentative plans to catch up over the weekend following our first, quite successful, date.

Tentative as in;

“Are you free next Saturday?”

“Yes.”

“We should catch up.  Lets talk during the week.”

Translation:

“I think you are a nice person and quite fuck-worthy”

“Thanks, me too.”

“Well if I don’t get a better offer closer to the weekend we should bone.”

Aaah..modern dating at it’s finest.

The week went by. I had enjoyed my night with Superman plus two more drinks dates, so I had plenty of irons in the fire.

The Mauritian sent me a message on Wednesday night.

“I have good news and bad news.  The good news is I’ve cleared my schedule and can meet you on Saturday night for our date.  The bad news is, I applied for a job in another state a few months ago and I found out today I got it.  I am moving in a month.”

Right.  I thought about this information for a moment.

“Well, congratulations on the new job.  I guess we should just call say goodbye now.  You will have a lot to organise in the next few weeks.”

“Oh no!” Came his reply, “I would love to spend more time with you before I go.  And we can keep in touch.”

Yeah right.

I started to wonder if this was some kind of ploy or line to have a brief fling then “move away”.

I discussed the situation with some friends who said maybe I should give him chance.  The job was only a one year contract and he might visit from time to time for some fun, and in the meantime I could keep looking for a more serious relationship.

Ya never know unless you try, right?

Saturday came and I got busy catching up with some friends I hadn’t seen for a while, so while The Mauritian had suggested a Saturday afternoon drink near my place, I got home later than expected, was pretty tired and ready to Netflix and Chill Solo.  I didn’t text him to meet up.  I ordered a pizza, ate the whole thing and flopped on the couch to binge watch something.

Eventually he messaged me.

“Still want to meet up tonight?”

“Hi.  Its getting kind of late now and I didn’t heard from you so I’ve just had a pizza and now I’m just relaxing with a movie.”

I knew he had been waiting to hear from me, but I gave the truth a little twist, hoping to usher him along.

“I was waiting to hear from you so I guess we got our wires crossed.  But I can come to you.”

The Mauritian only lived half an hour away and I contemplated a night alone versus a night with company, and decided on the latter. Ya never know unless you try, right?

I decided to go to no effort whatsoever.  This guy didn’t deserve me freshly showered and shaved, in sexy clothes with make up on.  I just brushed my pizza breath and hair and removed my underwear under a well worn and loved dress.

When he arrived I was curled up on the couch, tummy round and full, feeling lazy. The Mauritian wisely brought wine, which I poured immediately and we put on a comedy movie.

He talked through the whole thing, making stupid observations.

“Oh hahaha!  That guy just fell over!”

Uummm..yes…I have eyes and can see that for myself.

“Oh hahaha!  Thats funny because his wife caught him!”

Uuuumm…yes…I understand what I am watching.

He was annoying me a bit so I started kissing him, hoping we would have sex and he would go.

The Mauritian started well, kissing me gently, occasionally biting my bottom lip.  He leaned me back and his hand wandered up my thigh, reaching for my naked pussy.  His fingers deftly brought me to orgasm very quickly, and I should have stopped it there and kicked him out.

Instead his kisses became more urgent and more bitey.  At first it was just a bit different, then suddenly he sucked both my lips into his mouth and bit down on them.  It was like having your mouth sucked into a vacuum cleaner full of broken glass.  And possibly the most unsexy thing anyone has ever done to me.

“Hey!! Fucking stop that!  It hurts!.”

The Mauritian smiled and said, “I can’t help it, when I get excited I bite.”

“Well fucking stop it!” I told him.  “It isn’t sexy and I don’t like it.”

We resumed kissing and he did it again and again.  I chastised him each time, and fed up of him ignoring me I pushed him back and opened his pants.  Better to put that in my mouth than be subjected to any further kissing.

He took the hint and stood up to drop his jeans in front of me.  His cock was quite big and unlike anything I had seen before.  I wondered what it would feel like inside me but doubted we would get that far.

No doubt, Dear Reader, you’ve heard of a large cock being described as a “baby’s arm holding an apple”, and while The Mauritian’s shaft wasn’t quite that thick, the bulbous head was very big and round.  Like a monster mushroom with a big round head, it reminded me of those tom-tom’s you use to play a huge drum.

And unexpectedly he had a silver metal cock ring around the base.

Okay.

I took him in my mouth and did my thing on his thing, making his knees buckle.  He sat back down on my sofa while I pleasured him, eventually spurting all over his own stomach.

I gave him some tissues and started to clear away the wine glasses while he cleaned up. I stretched and yawned and told him about the long drive I had to take in the morning and how I would need to be up early.

“Oh I better go and let you get some sleep then.” The Mauritian stood and pulled up his pants.  Thank fuck.

The Mauritian left, kissing me at the door, and I pulled away before he could start biting me again.

“I will call you during the week.” The Mauritian promised.

And I hoped he was lying.

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