Quic Relief

#2: Second Chance?

The train pulled into Galway station, and as the brown-eyed man with the pretty smile stood to alight, he said in a delightful Irish accent: "Come for a drink with us." We had spent the past 10 minutes since I'd got on grinning at each other, eyes lingering that bit longer than they should. In that instant before the carriage doors closed, I reacted to the lilt of God-awful Irish charm and found myself on the platform with him. Somehow, I managed to look him straight in the eye, this jack-the-lad with his cocky smile.

"You're really sexy," he said to me.

"Uh huh," I replied.

He took me to a pub around the corner. We said little, and just let the sexual tension build as he bought drinks at the bar, leaning confidently on the gleaming mahogany surface. He let the back of his hand touch mine.

"So," he said, grinning. "You're gorgeous. How come you're single?"

And in that moment, everything disappeared and the cold dread of pain was suddenly all around me once more. Before I knew it, tears were falling into my glass of shiraz.

Three months before, my boyfriend had left me. Well, I had kicked him out, after cheating on him, but only because he was an alcoholic loser who had never given me any affection. We had been together for two years. I crawled through the first weeks after the break-up, staggered through the next. I couldn't listen to any song, watch any film, read any book. Everything was relevant to the pain I was feeling of being alone, of a failed relationship. My world was nothing but the daily grind of sleepless nights, heartache and the terror of being alone. This was the first of anything resembling a date.

"I was attached," I eventually replied. "Now single. I cheated on my boyfriend with a guy I had only known a few hours, in our house, while he was asleep in the next room. Then I dumped my boyfriend straight after and had sex two more times with his friend. I don't think I'm a nice person." The smile of my date wavered momentarily.

"That's complicated," he said. I nodded. We parted as friends, but he went home without my number and I went home alone.

I didn't go on another date for months after that. I wasn't ready. I was still aching for the comfort of a relationship, even if it wasn't a very happy one, and nobody else could fill that hole. So I filled it with work and friends. I hid in a world of camping trips and beach walks. It's true, time is the only healer, and I went through all the phases of grief. There was the odd flirtation: one with a man 4 years my junior, boy-band handsome and tanned the color of treacle. Another with an old flame, by now married with two children, and afterwards the choice to contact him or not. I chose not, because I know the devastation that path leaves behind it. Eventually, when the fear of living alone had subsided, I started thinking about dating again. But people who used to invite me to dinner didn't, making it harder to meet men who weren't immature, beer swilling louts. I just couldn't find the right man in my social circles.

I looked online, then promptly looked offline, as all the men seemed to go for women five years younger than themselves. A friend had done speed dating, but said she spent most of her evening studying the bald patch of the man in front as he bent his head to scribble frantic notes. Then, a few weeks after my 'date' in Galway, a rare weekend of fun appeared when a friend invited me to a party in the country. There I met John, a photographer — funny, charismatic and kind. We flirted and a little later on he asked me if I'd go for a midnight amble. The amble turned into a hike, a 10-mile starlit hike back to his house, and by the time we staggered weary- legged into his ramshackle cottage, I felt alive in the young, frivolous way that I had before I left my boyfriend. The night was full of tenderness and I sank into a world of touch. We kissed and caressed, nothing more, but something woke up inside me. The next morning, I was ablaze. When I went home, suddenly all I could think about was sex.

In my already too-long list of things to do, I had a beauty regime to contend with: legs needed shaving, nails painting, body moisturizing. Hairdryer in one hand, I sent a text to John. I invited him over to dinner the following weekend. When John and I did finally sleep together, it was love-affair sex, not stable relationship sex, which is like pasta — great some nights, overcooked others. It was new, dramatic and full of fantasy.

With the meal finished, I led John upstairs to the bedroom. I unbuckled his belt and trousers. I slid them down his legs so they were piled around his ankles. I looked at his beautiful cock and took it into my hand. I kissed his thighs and his cock tip. Once it was hard I stood up and began to kiss his lips. He nibbled on mine in return. I kissed him down his cheek to his neck where I continued to kiss and every once in a while would run my tongue over his skin. I then moved to his ear where I began to gently nibble on his lobe. I ran my hands from where they were positioned on his hips up to his chest. They were under his shirt which I then pulled over his head and discarded somewhere near to where were stood.

I kissed him a bit longer before going back to my keeling position on the floor. I took his now rock hard cock into my hand and then immediately put it into my mouth. I loved the way he tasted and the way his cock hardened even more in my mouth. I began to move my lips up and down his shaft, moving my hand with my lips. As I did this, I looked into his eyes. I began making moaning noises to go along with his. I took his cock out of my mouth and ran my tongue along each side of it before returning it to my mouth. I could here him grunting loudly and muttering things either to me or to himself. By this point I was pretty turned on. I could feel my wet pussy and longed for him to rip my clothes off, but at the same time I wasn't.

He had one hand rested gently on my head, just supporting it. I had been going the same speed the entire time. I moved his cock in and out of my mouth while flicking my tongue around the tip. I then felt his hand grasp my hair. He began pushing my head so his cock moved deeper and faster into my mouth. His moaning was getting louder. I could feel his cock hit the back of my throat, making me gag a few times. I loved it when my hair was grabbed tightly but this wasn't enough for me. I wanted to feel that small amount of pain that made everything more enjoyable. But this was still amazing and I was already dripping.

His hand relaxed on my head and began to move to my pussy. It wasn't time yet so I pushed his hand away, and although he was confused he didn't protest. My knees began to ache from sitting on the floor, so I stood up taking his cock out of my mouth. I put my hands on his chest and pushed him onto his back on the bed. This allowed me to bend over his cock more comfortably.

I continued moaning and making sounds that I knew he liked. He pushed my head away and I knew he was about to come. He began pumping his cock furiously then put it back into my mouth seconds before ejaculating into my mouth. For some reason it took me a bit by surprise, causing me to pull my head back a bit, but I still managed to catch all of his sweet semen in my mouth. Instead of swallowing it, I spit it back onto his cock which began to harden again. I began to lick all of his cum off his cock while gently massaging his balls. I could feel his cock harden even more against my tongue and I resisted the urge to put it back into my mouth. Once he was all clean we both sat up.

"That was amazing" John said kissing me. "I'm sorry I grabbed your hair so hard. I didn't mean to be disrespectful, just got caught up in the moment I guess."

"John, you can do that any time you like" I told him while kissing him.

He didn't say anything else. He pushed me gently onto my back so I was laying down. He reached up my skirt and took off my panties, throwing them somewhere on the corner of the bed. He brushed two fingers across my wet pussy.

"I can see you like that"

I lifted my pelvis off the bed so he could pull off my skirt, but instead he pushed it up, so it was around my waist. He spread my legs apart and inserted one finger into my pussy. He moved it in and out slowly, before inserting another one. I moaned softly and closed my eyes to intensify the feeling of him inside me. I could feel myself about to come but before I could, John withdrew his fingers. I expelled the breath I had been holding with frustration.

He put his head between my legs and began to kiss and the lick the top of my inner thighs. I wanted him to thrust his thick cock into me but he didn't yet. Instead he teased me, moving his kisses upwards and when I thought he would touch my pussy, he would revert the kisses down again. When he thought I had had enough, he moved to my pussy. He licked around my lips and then my clit. I shuddered slightly at the intense feeling of him lightly licking my clit. He then began to fuck me with his tongue. I felt the familiar feeling in my abdomen. It felt like I had to pee, but I really knew I was about to come hard. I began to moan louder, almost screaming as he continued to tongue fuck me. It was almost too much. I began to push his head away but he pushed my arms to my side and held them there. This made me come hard, and I released my fluids into his mouth.

I thought we were done, and would take a break before doing anything else, but instead he lifted my legs above his shoulders and he slid his hard cock into my pussy. He moved it in and out slowly as we kissed each other. It was when he did this that I felt more than lust, I felt a strong bond with him.

"Turn around" he whispered quietly.

I turned around and positioned my self so that I was on all fours. He grabbed my ass and slapped it once. I moaned louder.

"You like that?" he asked, knowing from my moans that I did.

He entered my pussy again and began pounding me hard, stopping every once in a while so he wouldn't come. I put my hand behind my back to hold his, but instead he pinned it to my back while he grabbed my hair with his other hand, pounding me harder. I pulled my head forward so he would grab my hair tighter. The slurping sounds of his cock sliding in and out of my pussy, and the flip-flop of his balls against my ass cheeks were audible above our moaning. I was in heaven, being fucked roughly from behind by a well-endowed, goog-looking guy. Then John let out a desperate roar, and he pulled his cock out of me in time for me to turn over on my back so he could come on my stomach. I looked up at John and smiled. He was on his knees straddling me with his thick cock in hand, the last jets of come dispersing over my flat belly.

"I love it when you are rough like that" I said, thinking of ideas for later, but John had already dived between my legs and took my cunt in his mouth. He gave a few sharp licks with his tongue across my clit and I came loudly.

"Aaahh," I cried out as my orgasm took me. John lay beside me and we fell asleep in each other's arms after a very blissful fuck.

I'm still seeing John. We're not a couple. We are what we are. There isn't a name for it. But one day we might well tumble tentatively into a relationship where I can love better than I did the first time, with the wisdom that comes from heartache.