U*Diaries: Turning the Tables

With a broad grin I walk down the street. Do I look different to anyone passing by? I straighten my sunglasses, run my fingers through my hair and try to pull myself together. Can they tell that I just had sex with a total stranger?

I sprint to the tram. It’s about to leave. I sit down in the first empty seat and take my first real breath. What the hell just happened? I’m digging around in my pocket for my phone. Ten unread messages, three missed calls from Lena: “Hey, are you still there? Is everything okay?”

Back in the saddle

Damn, I forgot that I wrote to Lena before I left. She’s been my rock for weeks. The separation from Oskar hit me so unexpectedly and, before I could really process it, I suddenly had to start looking for an apartment. I had to completely start my life again. Lena has been there for me and provides the necessary amount of ass-kicking to get me off the couch. For weeks now, she has been trying to set me up with potential candidates to get my love life back on track. But I just haven’t been ready. The idea of taking the first step and still being rejected is just too much for my tortured heart.

It started with a table

Lena simply does not give up. “Maybe this guy is hot,” she jokes when I reply to a classified ad. I urgently need a table or desk for my new apartment. “Or he’s a serial killer,” I reply to slow her down before she starts planning the wedding before I’ve even met him. We agree that I’ll keep her updated and let her know when I’m done and take some photos of the table so that we can decide on whether we like it together.

In spite of having a plan, I still head to to Sasha’s with a queasy feeling. He needs to give away the desk because he has no space for it. I suddenly realize that I am going to a complete stranger’s apartment – alone. Although I am not really afraid, I still realize that since the break up I have subconsciously avoided contact with men. I stop at the front door and take a short breath. Pull yourself together. It’s just a table.

Not my type

Sasha is average height, but very muscular and very blond. He’s really not my type at all. When he sees me, he smiles mischievously from ear to ear – and my heart suddenly feels like it’s in my throat. He touches me gently on the shoulder: “Come in, did you find the place okay?” There’s something about him that makes my knees go weak. He seems tough and manly, but at the same time gentle and sensitive. His apartment is beautifully furnished, old wooden furniture is surrounded by lush green plants. It seems like the perfect place to hang out and chill all day. Time stands still.

Sasha chats to me and we head to his living room, where the table is. But we quickly stray off topic. He asks me where I come from, what I do. We seem to click right away and when I make him laugh, he touches my arm gently again. What is happening here? Shouldn’t we stick to talking about the table?

I’m getting warm and I feel a little fuzzy. The heat of summer and the tension between us is getting to me. In a moment of silence we look at each other intensely and I feel close to fainting. Through my lips I blow some air into my face. My bangs dance on my forehead. “Pretty hot, isn’t it?”, Sasha grins. “Shall I get you a glass of water and you can look at the table in peace?” I swallow hard. Maybe I misread the signs. Maybe Sasha’s just being nice because he wants to get rid of his nice but surprisingly expensive table. I nod and turn to face the table. Stupid, stupid, why are you so stupid? I hear Sasha come back into the room, but I don’t turn around. I can’t look him in the eye again, because I feel too embarrassed.

Is this really happening?

Suddenly, I notice Sasha brushing my hair over my shoulder and his lips touching my neck. I breathe fast, my head is spinning. Is this really happening? For a short moment nothing happens, it feels like an eternity. I turn around. Sasha stands in front of me with a broad smile. “Is that okay?” My throat’s closing up, all I can do is nod. Sasha takes a step towards me, grabs my hip. Firmly but gently he pushes me towards the table. We kiss. Tenderly he bites my lower lip and slowly moves his hands from my hip to my breasts. His thumb plays around my nipples and a slight moan escapes me. He pauses briefly, looks at me. Was that too much? I blush. That smile is on his face again. He pushes me slowly onto the table and takes off my panties. It feels like he pulls his T-shirt over his head in slow motion. He is incredibly well-built – why is he not my type again? He comes closer to me, I feel him hard and rubbing against me through his pants and I get wet. Sasha opens a drawer at his desk and takes out a condom. “Do you want to?” I can’t talk anymore, my whole body is shaking with excitement. I pull him close to me, kiss him tenderly. That must be enough as an answer.

Sasha drops the last layers and puts on the condom. I feel his bulging penis against me and die of impatience as he slides his tongue along my nipples. With his fingers he plays around my clitoris and makes my whole body vibrate. When I can hardly stand it any longer, Sasha enters me and fireworks explode inside me. In regular, strong thrusts his muscular body claps against me. Gently but surely he presses me against the table and runs his tongue over my upper body. The heat makes it feel like we’re melting into each other, but Sasha keeps going, lets his plump cock slide sometimes fast, sometimes slowly into me. His thumb circles over my clitoris and his hand buries itself deep into my butt cheek. I notice how my legs start to tremble while he pulsates inside me. We get louder and louder, our moans slowly synchronize until we both climax, leaving only a muffled echo behind.

Back in the game

Sasha strokes my cheek, turns around and walks towards the bathroom. I can’t believe what just happened here. Carefully I pull the straps of my dress back up and gulp down the glass of water. I walk quietly to the exit as I hear him behind me: “Oh, you have to go already? Will you call me about the table?” I turn around. That big smile again. I smile back, nod and leave his apartment.

In the tram on the way home I finally write to Lena: “It’s all fine, I’m alive. But you won’t believe what just happened…” As I continue to type, my phone beeps with an alert. An email from Sasha. My heart stops for a moment. “If you still want the table, I’ll be around tomorrow night. If not… I’m available anyway.” I grin, pop my phone in my pocket and lean back in my seat. I’m back in the game.