When I met him I was nearly 30 and worried that I was never going to find a lasting relationship. I'd mostly dated other nurses but by then it had become clear that this never worked. He'd been engaged twice before to girls back home who'd cheated on him and emptied his bank account so in essence we were both losers. Looking back on the circumstances that led to our first meeting they were really funny.
He was my brother's best friend and had seen my passing out portrait in my parents' house. Cupid must have scored a bullseye because he sat down and wrote me this really stupid letter. He'd enclosed a photo of himself that I'd really liked but the letter was so pathetic that I was embarrassed for him. I didn't answer the letter but my brother nagged me into meeting him. It was a while before his ship was back here and when it happened I drove down to meet him in this seamen's mission thing. I was dressed up and on my best behaviour and I walked into this place where there were about a dozen men and most of them were unshaven, half asleep and wearing rumpled sportswear....and there he was in an immaculate officer's uniform and shiny shoes, holding a fucking huge bunch of roses.....
He only had 48 hours in the UK but I'd already decided that I liked him so I drove him to London and took him to Regents Park where we talked and fed the ducks. I let him sleep in my room that night after telling him that it wasn't an invite to fuck me. I woke up in the middle of the night and he was just sitting there looking at me with a smile on his face. I couldn't go back to sleep so we talked all night. I was already beginning to fall for him so I would have happily spread my legs for him if he'd asked but he didn't so the following afternoon I took him back to his ship and kissed him goodbye. He was nice but I wasn't really expecting to see him again.
He wrote me a letter every day for 2 months. The postman used to deliver them in bundles. It was all romantic nonsense but I played along and wrote back to him every week. By the next time his ship docked in the UK, I was already under his spell and waiting for him on the quay. I drove him straight back to my room. After we'd had something to eat I drew the curtains and unzipped his pants. We kissed for a while then I sucked his cock. He came really quickly but I didn't mind. I looked up at him and swallowed. He hugged me and I lay there in his arms, eyes closed and feeling strangely content. Neither of us was in a hurry but when it happened it was manic. We tore each other's clothes off and he pushed me down on the bed and fucked me without foreplay. He was good, a nice size for me and very considerate so the emotions and physical things all blended perfectly and I'd wanted it so badly that I came several times in a row. We talked a bit when he wasn't beating my womb into a pulp. I told him that I could easily fall in love with him and he said that he'd fallen for me the very first time he saw my picture then rolled on top of me and we continued fucking until we fell asleep.
He never actually asked me to marry him because he didn't need to. On his fourth visit, I flew to Hamburg so I could spend another couple of days with him. He took me to a jeweller and invited me to choose a diamond eternity ring. When I asked why it wasn't an engagement ring he just said it was because he'd never had much luck with engagements, then he hustled me back to the ship where he fucked me into a whimpering come splattered mess. For the next nine months, he sailed around the world and we exchanged dozens of filthy letters and anguished phone calls while our families planned an elaborate wedding for us. We went along with their plans because it's what was expected of us; weddings are as much for families as for the participants.