Z, zipper, zest, zzzzs

The weekend took its toll, and left me terribly tired. But there is no rest for the wicked. So I met up with Z around noon today and we messed about in relatively innocent ways in her room for a while before heading out to the Liberty Inn, by way of some pier or other. Not, unfortunately, Z's preferred pier, as that has been fenced off in preparation for Hallowe'en, as the Pier of Fear. So we sat in the chill wind on some kiddy pier until it was clear that the sun was gone for good.

Room 105, and with not much in the way of foreplay, a magnificent fuck. And while the same asymmetry was there as before, I felt freer to ignore it, and felt easier about letting Z take pleasure in whatever way she could while I had a good time and forgot all about her. That is too blunt an account, of course, and in quieter moments we chatted and she told me something of what she could feel, and as I was fucking her she was never out of my mind or, except when my eyes were closed, my sight.

Sight - another asymmetry. I take off my glasses, so everything blurs, and the mirrors along one side of the bed and on the ceiling present nothing but vague bodies. For Z, though, who is sharp-sighted and anyway more visual, there is a lot to see. So at some point during fucking we shift around on the bed clumsily, so she is lying with her head hanging off the bed on the mirror side, while I am on top lifting myself up on my arms so she can see, looking into the mirror that is now 'above' her head, back along the length of her own body to where we are joined. And so while I fuck her she watches me fuck her, and both of us are entirely happy. And the blurry version that I can see does look great, though soon she is hanging too far off the bed, and we eventually have to adjust our position and start again.

Well this fucking went on for a good while, before we took a break. The break may have proved a mistake, as I never really recovered my erection, and so we never really got to fuck any more. Tiredness? Or perhaps the difficulty of catapulting myself past the point where her lack of sensation and desire ceases to matter because her pleasure in my sensation and desire has kicked in? Anyway, I could not manage to get hard enough to fuck her again, and that was a little bit of a deflationary ending to what was still a wonderful afternoon.

I am unlikely to see Z more than once or twice before she leaves the city for a while. This is too bad, as time with her is more interesting than any other time I ever spend.