Screw linear.

This time last week, I was in a hotel room in a city right next to where I live. I was with a visiting caucasian, let's call him Alejandro. By now we have gone beyond greetings and pleasantries. We'd have done them during coffee four hours earlier. We're actually both naked on his bed. Kissing. Fondling. Conversing. You read right. Conversing. I am such a sucker for great conversation. Specially one that can be quite intimate. It's utterly sexy. He's not just a sweet talker. He really was immersed in what we were talking about. He was immersed in my stories. He was immersed in me.

In about ten minutes, he'd start kissing my lips gently from the upper part slowly to the bottom. He would then stick his tongue out and glide it gently to my chin, down to my neck, down to the center of my chest where he would stop and veer to the right nipple and call it home as his right hand would reside on my other nipple. Without stopping he'd turn his eyes to look at my face. This is where our eyes would meet and we'd both smile. He made me turn face down and I could feel his entire weight pressed upon me. If his manhood were a measure of happiness, it would be New Year's meets fourth of July. All nine point five inches of it.

Alejandro was uncut. Earlier I told him how much a treat it is for me to be able to play with foreskin. Don't worry, this vixen knows his dicks. I only fondled him before we dipped in the tub. Once I cleaned him, that was when it met my lips, tongue, and teeth. Yes. Teeth. I have a very talented oral system. Going back to our foreplay, I kept on tugging the skin gently revealing the tip of his dick, and back in. Out and back in. Out and back in. And he looked at me and saw the curious cat happily playing with his food before going for the kill. I must admit though, my deep-throat skills couldn't take him all in. I concede to biological limitations. Besides, bulimia is not that sexy nowadays.

When we got in his room on the 23rd floor, I immediately asked to use the bathroom where I encountered the bathtub. I asked if we could include it in the line-up of activities we haven't set yet. He was more than willing to oblige. So we set it up, after all, it will take a while to fill. We then went back to bed, made out and talked some more. He'd spoon me as he would tell me his stories. And then he turned around as I told mine. I stared up the ceiling and my words we're interrupted with a gentle "Cuddle me, goddamnit." He was British so listening to him was really a joy.

During coffee, (mind you neither of us had coffee since that would've been my third cup in three hours, and he didn't feel like having caffeine - so we both ended up with mango shakes from a nearby coffee shop) we both aired our apprehensions upon meeting. Yes, we hooked up via Grindr. And he was one of the better experiences I've had with that app, as I was his. When I arrived to meet him minutes earlier, he stood by the entrance of the coffee shop in a black shirt and cargo shorts. When I called out his name, he turned to me in his glasses and I saw a very satisfied smile. Before we met, I wasn't in any mood but for conversation. He changed all that.

In the next two hours, we'd exchange favors and kisses until he drove the spirit in me out my in clear and white climax. It was getting late. "I wish you could stay the night." He kissed me. "I wish you could stay here every night." I kissed back.

While we cuddled, he showed me photos of his travels. I randomly asked him what kind of guys he likes. "He must have a great chest." He grabbed mine. "I bet your boyfriend is gorgeous." He smiled at me. And it was inevitable that he also shared their photos from his phone. Including his other two exes. They were all too gorgeous. And I felt a tad bit insecure. Yes. I tell you, this vixen is pretty vulnerable. But the night was a reassurance that I had nothing to be insecure about.

The next day, he flew back to HK and back to the UK. We're all friends on Facebook now. Including the boyfriend. And I cannot wait to meet them together.