Z at home

On Monday I paid a visit to Z at home, and that will likely be the last but one time I will see her before she leaves NYC on an extended trip that will take her out of these posts for a good while, perhaps for ever. It was cold, and we ended up in bed with half our clothes on - the upper half. Once she had warmed up a little we kissed, and then fucked. It was perfect, really - she was delightfully tight and wet, and I really enjoyed all the variations of angle and depth and tempo. And at the end, when I was out of time, I found myself as if on the top of a hill, able to coast into a wonderful orgasm. This was the first time I have come fucking Z - the first time I have come in her company since her visit to my office back in the summer - and it made me particularly happy. I felt, with what justification I am not sure, that it was pleasing to her also.

The mystery of the sensations felt by the other: what is she feeling, is she enjoying it, am I doing it right, am I doing it as well as the last guy? All of these questions are bracketed off with Z. It is hard to allow the proper questions to come to the fore instead - am I enjoying myself, am I pleasing myself in a way that allows that pleasure to register with her, am I feeling for her as well as for myself? It is wonderful, though, when the concerns drop away and I am fucking for the sheer delight of it, for my delight and hers also. Quite special. Not easily reproduced. Nor easily forgotten.

At night, before sleep, a fine, functional fuck with C, in advance of my departure today. Once she had come with me on top, I fucked her from behind and came. For C, that is enough to tide her over until my return a week from now. For me, not enough for a day.

This afternoon I shall spend with D at the Kew Motor Inn, before leaving for the airport.