Have you ever met someone and instantly thought, I want to be with you for the rest of my life.
Well me neither.
But I did meet Chris.
He was what was supposed to be another one of these pointless online dating meet ups. A Netflix and chill if you will. Where we’d hang out, fuck and leave it a week before we spoke again. Chris and I hit it off instantly. There must have been some sort of connection because we were laying on my sofa, eating pizza watching Anchorman and just having a laugh on our first “date”. He was so chilled and laid back, but also quite a closed book. We didn’t really talk about each other’s lives, it was more in the moment, just what was going on then and now. I liked the mystery, it was an attractive quality, along with his tattoos and stubble, without being too materialistic. He was rugged, un-kept, but in a smouldering way. He worked as a policeman which added to my growing fondness of him and he had this strength that I was certainly no match for. Our first sexual encounter began exactly as it would in the movies. The guy and the girl play fighting, the guy ends up on top of the girl or similar, face’s close together, pausing for a moment and looking at each other dead in the eye, butterflies in her stomach and then……you got it! The kiss. Chris was a fantastic kisser, he had a fantastic grip, a fantastic cock…. There wasn’t much, if anything to dislike about him. But alas, as predicted, Chris and I turned into nothing more than just Netflix and Chill, Pizza and Sex. Oh and hungover singing of “Afternoon Delight”.
Over the course of a few months, the time between us seeing each other grew greater and greater and although I knew I fancied him, I never really told him outright, which later proved to be my downfall. The longer we would go without seeing each other the more hurt I’d feel, it’s just one of these hormonal traumas we girls put ourselves in. We don’t want to come across too strong, so we don’t tell the boy how we feel, then we instantly feel rejected when they start to pull away. The months gradually got longer and longer apart, don’t get me wrong we still saw each other, but between his shifts and mine, it wasn’t the easiest of plans to make. We did however maintain an amazing sexual chemistry. Sometimes we’d have sex in the lounge, halfway through a film, other times I’d get a text saying he was on his way, I’d leave the door open and jump in the shower and he would come join me. We would continue to fuck pretty much anywhere and everywhere, our most favourite thing to do was to film it. Whether I was sucking his cock or he was pounding me from behind, his phone was always at the ready, recording. I never had to worry with Chris about the videos being leaked or shared around. We both have pretty distinctive tattoos and with his career in the force and mine nursing, we just had this unspoken mutual agreement to keep them between ourselves. Outside, our relationship was purely sexual, he’d never stay more than a few hours at a time, but inside I wanted more.
We would argue quite often and although our personalities were pretty much on par with each other, I’d often voice my frustration to him, but not actually express my feelings directly, which coming to think of it must have been so confusing for him at the time. Some of our arguments got so heated that we would literally cut all contact with each other until one of us cooled down enough to send the first message, but that could take months. In the meantime, I’d flutter in and out of dating and relationships and he’d do the same. The jealousy inside of me often got too much to bare and I’d go straight back and cut all ties. But for some reason, through everything and anything, Chris and I would always find a way to contact each other again. It was like no matter what he did to piss me off, and how many times I told myself he is just after a fuck and I shouldn’t get attached, I still wanted to see him.
Chris had this really sweet side to him, that didn’t often come out. I usually got the sexual, playful, argumentative, silly Chris, which you could just categorise as the “fuck buddy” attributes. But every now and again he acted in a way that made me think, FUCK! Does he actually care about me? Here’s an example. After a night of extremely heavy torrential rain, I woke to find water literally dripping through my bedroom ceiling. It ran straight through my upstairs, to my bathroom downstairs and I had no choice but to turn my electric off. I had no heating, no means of cooking, I hadn’t been food shopping and I had to take the day off work to try and organise that disastrous moment of my life. I spent the day hauling my mattress and clothes out from the bedroom and into the lounge to avoid all possibilities of water damage. I was physically and emotionally drained, as well as starved. Obviously, such an event called for a couple of social media postings, to which I wanted either help or sympathy. But being mid-week, everyone was either working or just avoiding the challenge. Half way through the day I got a knock at my door and who I expected to by the building managers, turned out to be Chris, with McDonalds and a huge bar of galaxy. It was moments like that where he’d taken half a day off work to come keep me company and more importantly feed me, that made me question the potential of whatever we were. Now, the rest of the day was pretty much a write off, we had sex, a lot! What else were we to do to kill the time? And it was just a perfect ending to a rather shitty, damp day.
It wasn’t just the random acts of thoughtfulness and kindness that surprised me with Chris. He once text me at about 1am. I’d been out and had just got home, he was out with his friends and not really having the greatest of nights. This was another one of those moments where we hadn’t really been speaking but I missed him. He got in his car and drove all the way to mine, arriving at about 3am and spent the night! YES! He spent the whole night. Neither of us really slept, we had the most passionate incredible sex we have ever had. It was just happening over and over again. It was unforgettable.
There was also a side to Chris I didn’t like and it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what it was or why. It had been a while since we had seen each other last, I was in a relationship, not particularly happy and he was single. We’ve always had a lot of flirty banter between us and can honestly appreciate every inch of each other physically, maybe a little too much. Regardless of my relationship status, I needed to see him and for once I kind of liked the fact he wanted to see me. I didn’t want to flaunt my relationship in front of him, but I wanted to show him what he could have had! He picked me up and we drove to somewhere to park up and just catch up. It was really nice. It was like old times and like nothing had ever changed between us. In the back of my head, I knew it would happen, I knew I wasn’t strong enough to resist him, but I also wanted to test myself. I love playing with fire, but more often than not I get burnt. This time, he singed my lips. We sat there feircly kissing, reconnecting and I was fighting so hard to stop, but it felt like my mind and my body weren’t relaying information to one another. We parked somewhere a little more secluded and carried on, but when he got his dick out, reality quickly slapped me round the face. I didn’t have sex with him that day and in a way, I’m glad I didn’t. Because the whole situation ended up turning sour pretty quickly and maybe out of spite or jealousy, I don’t know, but he suggested that he would tell my boyfriend what we got up to. I was scared, I was a coward and I panicked. In that moment, I hated Chris. He knew the situation I was in, he knew how vulnerable I was and for some reason he used it against me. That wasn’t the Chris I knew. It wasn’t the guy that for the last god knows how many years I couldn’t cut out my life. He was a stranger to me.
And as the story goes, we argued some more, and we seized contact with each other, for the millionth time. But this time it was a lot longer than all the others. I had this dislike for him that only got worse, I’d drummed it into my head he was the one who had played me for years, led me on, never gave us a proper go and then threatened my relationship. And whilst only a minute fraction of that may be true, I never really told him what I wanted from him. I don’t think I even admitted it to myself. I didn’t see that most of the way we were was down to me, my actions, my thoughts and my feelings. But I blamed him.
Chris and I didn’t speak for a very long time and it was only by accident we started talking again. Things had changed between us, he was with someone and so was I. Our lives were different, we had reached milestones without each other and it felt strange. I was so wary of him, I felt like I couldn’t physically cry over him anymore, I couldn’t afford to get attached. But he soon broke me.
The problem with having a background in nursing is that, no matter who needs you, no matter what they’ve done or how their behaving, you just have this autopilot mode where you have to support them. And that’s what I did. Chris was going through a tough time, little niggly issues with his partner and what was worse, quite negative feelings towards himself. Chris and I know we are both quite dark characters, a bit fucked up in our own ways but that’s just who we are, we accept and understand it. She clearly couldn’t. I just wanted to be a friend. I’d done playing games with him now. No matter what happens between us, we always find a way back to each other but this time he needed me more as a friend, someone who knew him and that’s what I wanted to be.
We met up and went for a walk. He’d changed a lot, he’d lost weight, bulked up, had this beard and a new job. And life, other than his relationship, was good. He looked amazing and as we said hello, he grabbed me and pulled me into his chest, his arms surrounding me and hugged me so tightly. It felt safe. We walked and talked and just had a good catch up and nothing sexual happened. Although the moment I got back in the car, I was fighting back the tears. I waited until I’d driven out of site to pull over and just let it all out. I loved him. He was the love of my life. My soul mate. The one who gets me, who, no matter what tears us apart, we are always drawn back together. But he needed me as a friend and that’s what I was going to be as much as I just wanted to tell him everything. We agree’d to keep these little walks our “thing”, it was our place that we could go to, to just unload our lives off on each other and not be judged or advised, because it was us and we just get it.
The next time we met up I was greeted by the same hug, the same smell, the same feelings. We walked in the opposite direction to what we did before and just had us time. The more I looked at him and walked with him, the more I fell in love with him. The surer I was that this whole time, from the moment I met him, we were just perfect for each other. The arguments we have were us fighting our own feelings and I knew I never wanted him to disappear from my life again. I’d have to have him as a friend than nothing at all. Now what was going through Chris’ mind, was far beyond me because as we laughed, flirted and play fought, there we were back to day one, eyes locked, same feeling in my stomach, the exact same moment. It was kind of confirmation that whatever is happening in our separate lives, we still want each other. And in true “Bish” style (our nicknames for one another), we were having sex in the great outdoors. Not giving one flying fuck, just us.
It wasn’t until I got home that night that we both kind of poured our feelings out to each other. We were in this awkward foursome, where we were both being unfaithful, but it didn’t feel wrong. I think neither one of us were prepared to hurt our partners, but definatly not willing to hurt each other. It was the first time I’d really been able to open him up. So much so he told me he loved me, and that it’s always been me. I told him that he was the love of my life and that what we had was like nothing I’ve ever had with anyone before. Was it lust? I don’t know. It was just everything, every feeling you can ever have rolled into our relationship. The adrenaline was addictive. He was addictive! He was everything to me. We kept meeting up and going for walks, having sex and spending what time we could together. But like our encounters at the time, the dynamic had changed, it wasn’t just us anymore and we were just biding time, like sitting ducks.
All the best
The Naked Blogger