We'd had a funny relationship for three years, sort of best friends who got
jealous when one or the other of us saw someone else. I guess I had never
seen him as boyfirend material - at least until he got a dream job in
another city and I realised I would loose him. From that moment on I was
determined to get him back.

It was at the Christmas party last year that I asked him to dance. He
agreed, but we kind of just stood their on the dance floor for almost an
hour, holding each other. Luckily it was dark, so few of my friends noticed.
Latter we both left, seperately.

The next day I was helping him pack, a miserable process. We laughed and
talked, and eventually he asked me was I concerned by him just getting up
and leaving. I said "yes", and for the first time we kissed. We would have
made love right there, except that his mother, an indian woman of fierced
temper and strict morals came home. Instead he offered to pick me up that
night.

Tp my great surprise that night P. to me to the most exclsuive hotel in
town: he had hired a suite! We barely got in the door when he begun to kiss
me, and soon we were stripping off each othrs clothes. The shole experience
seems like a dream now, although it was a little awkward. His cock was huge
- frighteningly so - and he was just as confused as I was. He failed to get
it into me the first few times, and when he did he kinda lost control and
charged in. It hurt like all hell, but luckily I think he thought I was
crying with plesure.

I didn't orgasm that time. I didn't really feel anything at all. But the
'after', as a lay in his arms, was very special. And later, as we sat
together in the huge spa bath we really made love. I told him to rub my
clitoris as he moved in and out of me, and the result was absolutely
spectacular.

Unfotunately P. did go away. But I'm set to join him at the end of this
year, so hopefully something better we happen.