I'd been waiting for Kas to call - I was conscious that woman can seem pushy when in a this type of "relationship". I'd had a lovely evening in the pub with my good friends Ellie and Rhi, and a few others had joined us. I was relaxed and the start of my holiday had officially begun. My body was full of endorphins from laughing so much, and the thought of going home alone did not fill me with sadness. It was midnight when the text arrived. He sounded excited and I knew instantly I wanted to see him, whatever it took...
On Wednesday evening I went on a date - there's nothing to write home about, but I couldn't help but feel it was a bit of a portrayal on Kas. Kas couldn't have made it more clear that he was not looking for a relationship, so I've been sure to keep this in my mind not to get emotionally involved - hence going on the date. But still, I felt a sense of satisfaction that the date hadn't gone well because I knew that when (and if) the call came I would still be able to see him.
A few text later and it was agreed that I would pick him up from the station in his town. I had enough time to run home and tidy myself up, before driving 10 miles down the motorway. It was pouring with rain, and I had butterflies. So many questions were running through my head. What if he is not as drunk as last time? What if I'm not as good or confident (i hadn't had a drink). What if he saw me and and I wasn't what he remembered?
I was so nervous that I had forgotten how to drive. He kissed me as soon as he was in the car. He looked gorgeous in his suit and with his cheeky smile; I couldn't wait to be naked in bed with him. Thankfully he had had a few drinks so found my inability to drive amusing. We were at his house within minutes and he poured me a glass of wine. He too seemed a little awkward and I was worried it was all a mistake, but as soon as we sat down and started chatting i felt at ease. Trying to hold a conversation was difficult, not because he wasn't easy to talk to, but because my mind was racing. Was he attracted to me? Was he as desperate to kiss me as I was him? Was I just an easy shag?
When Kas kisses, he is passionate - hair grabbing, hand wandering, melt in the moment kissing. I go upstairs first, and strip to my underwear and lay under the covers. Thankfully i wear black underwear most of the time, so the fact that I hadn't had time to get changed didn't matter. He clearly hadn't noticed my clothes on the floor and when he pulled back the covers he was (I think) pleasantly surprised. He started saying something, and then stopped himself- I couldn't work out if he was nervous too.
When you've had drunken fantastic sex with someone there is undoubtedly pressure on both parties to please the other as much as you did the last time, and this was no exception. He is confident, in control. He knows what he is doing and what he wants to happen next.
Sometime later and we are curled up together. I like that he accepts that I want every bit of my naked skin touching his; that he too seems to enjoy the intimacy after as much as i do. We talk until he falls asleep and I have this urge to run out the door. Not because I don't want to be with him, but because I find waking up with someone quite an intimate thing. I look at Kas and I know that under the bravado and the witty humour he is a lovely guy - genuine, funny and caring. That combined with the thought of morning sex is enough to make me stay.
I wake up to the sound of the rain. It is beginning to get light and I wonder how on earth I had slept for so long. I'd had a few bad dreams and was comforted throughout the night by the warmth and loving arms of Kas. Even when half asleep he has the ability to be reassuring and strokes my cheek and holds me close. He too is waking and his hands are wandering.
Afterwards he makes us coffee and puts some music on. I ask him if he wants me to leave, but instead he curls up with me and we talk. We stay in bed all morning and it's lovely. I'm sure that this isn't how its supposed to be, but he seems comfortable with it and so am I.
I thought my mind would race today, but I'm surprisingly comfortable with the whole situation. He even implied that when he moves to London we can still carry on, which makes me very happy. It does feel like the ball is in his court a bit and I don't think that if I were to booty call him it would have the same effect on him as it does on me; but this morning was, well, perfect.
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