It's his loss, but I like to imagine how we'd planned to meet.

I mean, he's simply out of the question.

But my GODDDDDD. The dynamic was so hot. We had talked about meeting for the first time in a less-than motel (something about dirty hotels makes me absolutely feral). That the first time, he'd have waited to cum for a few days, and he'd expect me to do it very slowly, intently, making up for all the time he spent doing without head, the neglect that all other women showed him about our shared fetish could melt away as he saw how ready I was to take my time.

He knew I loved the anticipatory moment of wondering what my new lover's cum would taste like that very first time. Respected that I was most turned on to natural scents, and even planned to factor that all in.

And look, I know it isn't HIM that I want -- you'll just have to trust me on that one, but I can absolutely prove to myself I put the cart before the horse. It's how accepting he was about this, and how much he apparently saw my sexuality as the exact inverse of his sexuality.

In short, I wasn't going to hedge my bets and run off to be with him after a few days of talking, but I was serious about my side of things. It surprised me just how amenable I was once that sexual side of me wasn't just understood, but cultivated, respected (and disrespected at the right times!), and... NEEDED.

It felt like the first time someone had truly been searching for exactly me.

Mad at myself that I'm still thinking things like "well, now I'll never know what his cum tastes like", because he doesn't even deserve being in my brain at all, not with the way he switched up on me.

For the first time, for a few days, years of repressed sexuality started melting away, and I felt like my sexuality was welcomed. It certainly made me feel very intense regarding him.

He has clearly done me a favor by hitting the highway, but I do ache with wonder on whether or not someone will want me all to themselves in the same ways that we'd discussed, all of which were supposedly perfect for him.

Opening up to people comes with a price. I knew that. We all get got, and I got got.

I know I could've been ideal for him. That's his loss.

I'm hoping that my hypersexuality is what someone needs sooner than later, because this gal is losing it over here, and I'm starting to wish that I had any real love language to speak of beyond "a whole fuckton of blowjobs".