My love for him had faded a bit, I still liked him and I still wanted him around. Sounds a bit wrong doesn’t it and in all honesty it probably was but no matter what I did to the guy he just wouldn’t go anywhere. I get the impression he liked hanging around.
Sounds egotistical of me I know but the guy was in love with me, so in love with me that he doted on me, did everything for. I’m sure if I waited at a door he’d not only open the door he’d offer to carry me across the threshold. If I wanted a whiskey he wouldn’t just get it he’d walk across broken glass, bare foot, to get it. So why didn’t I love him? I don’t know, I did once, but then life kind of got in the way. I started finding interests that weren’t shared, I became too focused on the way he’d leave his jocks on the floor of the bedroom, but most of all I was able to convince myself I wasn’t happy.
Of course I told him none of this, I did give him excuses though. I told l him it was stupid things like the way he farts when he’s asleep and the way he goes to bed at 2am. He couldn’t believe those reasons and to be fair they were bloody lame, but I couldn’t tell him the real reason, damn I was having trouble admitting it myself.
So what was the real reason? My life had reached it’s peak, I had stopped going upward and pretty much petered out and it had to be his fault. What was the point of having a life if it was going to plateau? Unfortunately all my friends told me the same thing. “You need to go forward”, “get rid of him”, “he’s useless”. But I knew he wasn’t, I knew I didn’t really want to get rid of him, I just couldn’t admit that to my friends after making him out to be worse than he really was so they would sympathize with me. They’d ask me why he was still hanging around when I didn’t want him there and it just became easier to say “it’s complicated” than admit that I was keeping him around as much as his devotion was keeping him around me.
Then last Wednesday I woke up just before 7am to the feeling of two fingers rubbing my clit, at first I thought it was a dream but after a few seconds it was clear that it was no dream and those fingers could only belong to one person, the same person I couldn’t kick out of my house. Something told me to stop him but something else told me to let him go, of course I let him go.
After nearly ten minutes of those two fingers gently moving between my legs I was unable to hide the fact that I was awake. By the time he was using his thumb on my clit and sliding two long fingers inside me I couldn’t hide anything, my breath was racing, I was taking short sharp breaths and I was thrusting my hips up and down to meet his fingers.
He kept going, gently rubbing and probing me until my orgasm rocked me so violently that I thought I was going to jump off the bed.
“Must be your turn now” I said readying myself for our first sex sessions in months.
Removing his fingers he gently moved to his side of the bed and said. “Not now baby, that one was just for you!”
It was then I suddenly realized why my mind was so reluctant to let him leave. Was I wrong to keep him even if my love had faded but his hadn’t? Was I wrong to keep telling him the issue was his went it was mine? Was I wrong to keep someone around because of how good he was in bed if especially if he didn’t mind? Was I just wrong?