Where to start…

Given the changes going on in the Aesthete’s life, our mutual attraction and the fact that I was fooling around with the Brass Player, it seemed cruel and unusual for the Aesthete and I to stay platonic. Especially after our dinner two weeks ago. None of it made sense. I felt unhinged and somewhat dishonest all around. Not least to myself. I needed to ground myself and I needed for The Aesthete and I to reconnect and remember what we’re working toward. To touch on that thing that feeds us.

It seemed imperative we have sex ASAP. He suggested as much and we made a date. The next few days passed in a state of high anxiety.

Did I really want it? What if it was no good?

The weather was gorgeous and unseasonable. Like the old days, care free summer fucking. The Aesthete arrived at my apartment and I don’t think we even said hello. Just straight to my bed. His cock so hard I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything like it. I began to come almost as soon as he was inside of me. So strange, formulaic almost.

I was on my hands and knees. He turned me over into my back and I as I got close to squirting I heard myself do that sobbing thing that tends to precede it. The cum-sob turned into actual crying. I held onto him crying, squirting as he fucked me. It felt almost pat to be crying then and there, but it was real, unplanned. It was what came and I couldn’t stop it. Part of it was the pure physical release of months of tension between us. Part of it the realization of all that had passed in the last week, my sex with the Brass Player, knowing the changes that the Aesthete had set in motion for me in his life, the feeling of being completely loved and accepted by him and feeling the same for him. The feeling that this was what was real. This wasn’t want, barely even lust. It was pure need. It wasn’t what should be, it was what had to be and it was completely overwhelming.

I got on top of him and we were loud, screaming, I’m sure the neighbors could hear us and I did not care. I was riding him, gushing all over.

Afterward we lay next to each other, electrically discharged, some order restored. Now what…