Fat and Slutty

Get comfortable, folx. This is a long one. And a little more explicit than usual.

Holy shit, what a great weekend. T and I met at lunchtime on Friday and headed for Kansas City. He had bought tickets for us to go to a one-day music festival. Emo and pop punk from the early 00s. My favorite band from my teenage years was on the bill, and I was absurdly excited to see them play again for the first time in almost two decades.

And I was excited to go and experience it with T. My late teens and early twenties consisted of a LOT of concerts, but always with friends, never as part of a couple. In fact, I think the first time I experienced live music with a romantic partner who was comfortable with even the slightest level of PDA was within the last twelve months. I’m finding that I really like it. It feels good.

But, I digress. T and I met in my town, left his car here, and loaded up mine. I needed to fill up the car, so we made a quick stop at the gas station. I hopped out to do the thing. He offered to help me with paying at the pump – another thing made challenging by my extra long nails. I declined – I wanted to do it myself. And then he said he would at least like to pump my gas for me. He said it was the gentlemanly thing to do. I said he could do that.

I was taken aback at first. No one has ever offered to pump my gas before. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself. But, what’s the harm in it? It made him feel good to do something helpful for me, and it actually made me feel good that he wanted to. I decided I liked it, and that from here on out, he can pump my gas any time he is with me and there is gas to be pumped.

There are a few things he does that are pretty chivalrous. He opens doors for me. When we walked in Kansas City, he walked closest to the road. He generally keeps an eye on me and stops me from walking into/falling off of things. He always makes sure I cum before he does. You know, gentleman stuff. I like it. It feels nice to be cared for in those ways.

The drive to KC was about four hours. We talked, listened to music, pointed at funny shaped clouds, just hung out. It was lovely. I enjoy his company so much, and I was really happy to share those moments with him.

My phone was hooked up to the car, and B called. I looked at T and asked if he objected to me answering. He said he didn’t. I answered and told B that T was there and was able to hear him. “Hey T! Thanks for being such a good dude!” B said. He is a sweet, sweet dork.

I was nervous about how T might be feeling about that call. I checked in, and he said he was good. I was also nervous because that was the first time that two people I’ve been romantically involved with have ever interacted in any context. It actually felt really sweet. It helps that B is such a sociable guy, and very supportive of basically anything that makes me happy. He is delighted that I’ve met T and that things are going so well. And T is doing an incredible job of navigating a very unusual set of unfamiliar circumstances. He makes it look easy, and I’m trying to make it as easy as possible.

Next, my spouse called. He does not approach these things the same way. He wants everything to be very separate. We have our marriage, and then I have my other life. He always knows where I am and who I am with, and I can talk about my other partners to some extent, but he wants no contact with them. So, when he called, I gently told T that I was going to answer it and that this time it would be better if he didn’t talk. He understood, and I appreciated it.

Eventually, we made it to Kansas City. Checked into the hotel and headed to the festival. We were staying within walking distance of the venue, which was absurdly convenient and saved so much hassle. Not to mention surge pricing.

It was very hot, and we stood in line for a long time waiting to get in. There was no shade and a lot of people. It was pretty stifling. We made it in and headed for the food trucks. Long line again, and a long wait for the food after we ordered it. T was struggling in the heat. I was worried that he wasn’t going to enjoy this trip so much after all. We ate, drank some water, found some seats to chill in for a while, and he started to feel better.

We had a great time people watching, enjoying the music, soaking up the atmosphere. I got a little drunk, but not too much. I got to watch my favorite band, and T was right there with me. It felt really good. I was pretty blissed out. We ate again and found an out of the way spot to sit and watch the headlining band from a distance. By now, it was dark, and there was a cool breeze. T was feeling much better and having a good time.

We walked back to the hotel and took showers before heading for bed. It had been a very long day, but I was sure he’d still be up for some adult fun before sleep. I was right! Sex with T is such a joy. Everything feels so good, and it just keeps getting better as we continue to learn each other’s bodies.

My memory of what I’m referring to as ‘Round One’ is a little hazy. I do remember that he fucked me from behind for the first time and that it felt so good I don’t know why we haven’t done that sooner. I definitely will be insisting on it from now on. I was on my period, and we had already established that he wasn’t bothered by that, so I didn’t hold back this time. A little mess is really not the end of the world, and I’m so glad he shares that mentality.

We settled into bed, but I still wanted more. I told him I was ready for Round Two, if he was. We fooled around. He got me off with his hands at least half a dozen times. I reached for his dick and found it was hard. I had promised him earlier in the night that I was going to take good care of him when we got back to the room, and now I was going to keep that promise. I went to town. He enjoyed himself immensely and was vocal about it – I love that. He came in my mouth, and I kept going, and he stayed hard! I was ecstatic. I wondered if I could give him a third orgasm, I was at least going to try! I kept going, and going, he was still hard! I swear I was at it for close to an hour. Eventually, I got too excited and just wanted to fuck again. I climbed on top and finished there. Finally satisfied. We talked for a while about things that matter. And, at last, went to sleep.

When I woke up, he wasn’t there. We had a suite, and he’d gone to sleep on the couch. But it had been too cold, and there were no extra blankets. He heard me wake up and came back to bed. I could feel how cold he was and wrapped myself around him. He had hurt his shoulder somehow and asked me to massage it, which, of course, I did. I felt sorry for him and wondered if he still wanted to roam around KC or if he just wanted to head home. He wanted to stay.

We hadn’t made a solid plan for how we’d spend our day, deciding instead that we would wing it. We found an incredible breakfast spot and ate our fill of amazing food. Sweet potato pancakes were the unexpected star of the show. Covered in brown sugar syrup, cinnamon butter, and candied pecans. Good God. I told him I wasn’t sure which had been better, the sex or those fucking delicious pancakes.

From there, we went to an art museum where our filthy brains saw nothing but genitals all over the place. It’s so much fun looking at art with him. We both appreciate great art, but we’re also both completely juvenile and make childish jokes as often as possible. It’s the best!

He suggested we find a comic book store. Hell yeah! I found one outside the city that also had rare and collectible toys. We had a great time exploring it, finding cool and ridiculous shit. We both got some great comics, too. I asked the lady who worked there if there was a decent barbecue restaurant in town. She said there was, and we went there next. More fantastic food. The most spicy cheese curds on the planet, I’m pretty sure.

By now, it was after 5 pm, and we still had four hours of driving ahead of us. I suggested we start back. He drove the first hour to get out of the heavy city traffic that I find intimidating. I drove the rest.

The drive back was nice. Music playing, I sang along for the vast majority of it. I’m glad he’s patient enough to cope with that. We saw lots of deer and even a bald eagle. And I definitely didn’t almost get us into a head-on collision that would have been fatal. Nope. Everything was fine.

I took him back to his car, we said our goodbyes and promised to see each other again soon. And we will. This weekend we have tickets for another concert, and we’re going to a drive-in movie, too. It’s going to be great. He’s great. We’re great.

I keep saying it, I know, but I feel so fucking lucky right now. Life really is sweet.