[Warning: Mature Content]
I returned the kiss, and… I have to be honest, all of his facial hair didn't seem quite comfortable at first. This was my first time kissing a really hairy man and by hairy, I mean his beard fell a couple of inches from his chin and jaw. The experience was the complete opposite from the last man I've locked lips with who was most of the time clean-shaven, so making out with Rollo really needed time getting used to.
The kiss started out gentle, his tongue carefully slipping in between my lips and was most welcomed with tender hospitality into my mouth. He had a certain taste about him but I couldn't quite put it into words. And I thought his beard smelled like sauce... It was probably from his chicken dinner.
As the kiss deepened, my position slowly changed until my body was fully turned towards him, our interlaced fingers thoughtlessly pulled apart to venture other places we dared not before; for mutual desires, at last, had connected by the breakage of the agonising process of mindreading and fear of wrong assumptions. He caressed my breasts before I felt his hand reach its way down the thin cloth that protected my private. From here then on, things made a speedy turn. I sat up, took my dress and underwear off (with these proceedings, he also stripped himself off of the only garment he had on), and climbed on top of him completely naked now. I bent down to continue kissing him. This went on for a few minutes; him below me, my hands on each side of his face occasionally travelling up to his hair, our mouths colliding—when he pulled back and softly laid me down his side. He lifted his head to return his mouth against mine, his body bent sideways like the position we had earlier when we kissed the first time. I silently loved how he enjoyed kissing because from my experience, it usually determines the kind of sex the man performs. And his kisses were tender… and intimate. I admit it was a little surprising coming from the same man who butchered my name and calls me Blissetta-etta-etta-eh-eh-eh; who is also, not to mention, very sarcastic and mean. However, it was still too soon to tell. Who knows what kind of freak he could be. Since he's European, I was a bit preoccupied whether he'd give me the same experience I had with Four.. It was the worst.
Rollo pulled back again and gave me three simultaneous pecks on the lips, a sweetest semblance of affection which tasted absolutely endearing, before he rolled on top of me, his mouth gently finding mine again. His embrace fell downwards; to my neck, my chest, and as he got lower, he sat on his knees near the foot of the bed, right before my skin-exposed body, and spread my legs with his large hands. Dimly through the darkness, I descried a smile off his countenance as he casted a glance at my face, before bending down and seizing hold of my thighs to keep them in place, and then finally diving his head in between my legs. The moisture from his mouth felt cool against my own wetness at the first contact, and it didn’t take more than a minute for me to decide he was the best oral I’ve ever had. And was ever going to have right at that moment.
"Oh my God, that feels so good…" I moaned, my hands dug into his hair as the tip of his tongue skillfully titillated my clitoris.
My, but this was something I never thought he had in him! I've always thought the firefighter was the best oral I ever had but Rollo made that experience absolutely inferior now. No matter how much I writhed, no matter how much my legs uncontrollably shook, nor how much I pulled onto his hair—his mouth remained glued to me driving me thoroughly insane with pleasure. His tongue knew exactly just the right spots to hit, the right movements to follow, and adding up that long and slender finger of his occasionally entering into me to throw in another sensation into the flow, the combination was simply mind-blowing. I've always fantasised of an incredible and exquisite cunnilingus for as long as I can remember that I even considered sleeping with a girl because if you're a girl, then you probably must know exactly what to do. How could I have known I'd meet a man who could execute just what I have longed and craved for.. It was like a fantasy manifested into life. How did I get this lucky? And to think I thought of unmatching him...
My, but I can't believe his girlfriend cheated on him! Are you kidding?! With a tongue like that, I'll keep him forever!
His hair was really soft, by the way. So, so... soft. It was short but just long enough to grab a handful...
In the midst of the rapturous ecstasy he had bestowed upon me, he reached out for my breast and fondled it most lasciviously whilst his head remained in between my legs, his fervent mouth continuously doing wonders I could only imagine erstwhile. I was most thankful I shaved myself completely clean down there before coming over because dear lord, this turned out to be even better than the fantasy I had of him the week before... So. Much. Better. I held onto that same hand of his, the one cupping my breast, in between my palms ever so tightly, as if a life support I needed to survive against his salacious tongue killing me with heavenly sensations. Closer, I pulled it under my chin as my head fell back in extreme pleasure. As I did so, his fingers escaped my grasp, and, completely overtaken now by my libidinous nature, I captured his index finger in between my lips and slid it deep into the recess of my mouth, releasing it almost completely before slowly devouring it again up to its hilt, and again, and again..
Aside from the buzzing noise coming from the air-conditioner, the room was filled with nothing but my gasps of delight, incessant moans, delirious cries, ejaculation of pure ecstasy both holy and blasphemous. I don't know how many times I've orgasmed! I've never moaned someone's name before in bed. It's usually "babe" but with Rollo, he absolutely deserved the acknowledgement.
"I didn't know you're into cunnilingus," I said with such amazement and satisfaction, almost breathless, when he finally raised his head and crawled up to kiss me after about half an hour of fulfilling my fantasy.
"I love it," he replied with such vigour in that Brummie accent of his, grinning as he met my eyes, before closing our gap again and locking his lips onto mine. Hmm... I could taste the trace of my own fluid from his mouth. The exchange was so erotic...
I went down on him myself which he stopped shortly because it was a bad position, he said, for his tailbone. I couldn't help wondering whether I was awful. But Four said I was the best oral he's ever had… And Erwin once remarked he'd release so soon if I were to go on… Is it possible they were lies?
When I was on top of Rollo again, ready to fuck him, I asked whether he had condoms and guess what?
"No.." came his response.
"No?" I echoed in disbelief, looking down at him. "How come you don't have any?"
"I didn't think I'd have any use for it.."
"What? When was the last time you had sex?"
"I told you.. In May. With my ex."
Huh.. I've invariably believed travelling foreign men always carry condoms with them. Guess I was wrong.. But didn't he himself suggest we "netflix & chill"? Oh, heck. Was he pulling the same stunt as I was? Saying words just to have something to say but not actually meaning it?
"We don't have to do it if you don't want to," he told me.
So we didn't.
We just kissed for some more and it felt so loving and romantic… It really seemed so out of character from how I imagined him to be. He said he wouldn't be so much fun because he was injured... I wonder what he could do when he's in great form?
He planted a dry kiss onto my lips which left a soft sound of that lovely smack only produced through an embrace, so sweet and tender, as if the last element used to seal something precious, before he rose to go to the bathroom. I cleaned myself after him and went to bed with just my undies on.
I wouldn't say I had no trouble sleeping that night for I clearly had. It was past one when that amatory bout of ours had made a cessation and at about two in the morning, the hunger in my stomach could no longer keep me still, nor could my conscience let it subside untreated; so I got up to put on my dress. I silently walked towards the kitchen island to search for food. He said something about the chicken he had last night but I was too lazy to look for it in the dark. Besides, I didn't want to wake him. There was a box of brownies on the dining table so I took one and ate it on the couch. The taste and tenderness, to my famished tongue, was exquisitely scrumptious so I took another one and went back to where I sat curling my legs up.
That was when I heard movements from Rollo's side, making me inwardly wince from the timidity of being caught eating his food. Was he having trouble sleeping, too? From what I noticed about him that night, he kept rousing up once in a while and whenever he did, he'd always take a shot from the bottle of water he kept by his nightstand.
"Blissetta?" he finally mumbled, his eye-mask pulled up to look at me.
"Hi..." I said with a smile, my tone a melodious sheepish sound.
"What are you doing?"
"I got hungry.. I took two brownies, if it's okay."
"Oh, yeah. No problem,” he replied in a sleepy groan before returning to his slumber.
I brushed my teeth before making another attempt to shut off the stubborn consciousness I had that night, barely managing to steal a continuous sleep at all. I managed, yes, but it definitely wasn't enough.
Around four in the morning, leger movements from the other side of the bed roused me from what little rest I had. This disturbance which I would say "comforting", coming from a man I was attracted to—whose heat and touch would be a great balm in the chilly lateness of the night, made my half-conscious body turn to his side and roll towards him which was warmly accepted in his embrace. I was wrapped in his arms like this for a little while when his hold on me got tighter, a most delightful feeling to my petite figure in this cold temperature. I edged myself closer to him for this adjustment, placing my face in the nook of his neck, and I felt him squeezing my little body again. My, but I couldn't breathe! Nay, it wasn't his hug. His beard! Dear me, they were all over my face and I felt suffocated that I had to twist my head in search of air. I have to say I was completely awake now, both from survival instinct and the silent joy to have his pleasing warmth pressed against my body. He held my hand with his in between our tight-locked corps, resting it on the mattress just below my stomach, whereas he had his other hand stationed on my back. He shortly rubbed the length of my spine in a regular motion, like an idle caress done from the control of a partially asleep mind, and from there, I thought we'd have a peaceful sleep with this wonderful cosy position. But then he started moving his hand on my back again, slowly, high and low, beckoning not the sleep in me but the full consciousness of the warm friction of his large palm against my skin. My hand, the one entangled with his other one underneath his sheet, moved a finger and this finger perceived a rather stiff instrument blocked by the thin layer of cloth that covered it. Delicately, my finger traced its structure, quite lengthy and large, awakening such desires in me… Another feminine finger joined yet the slight touches remained gentle and slow. As if encouraged by this minimalistic homage my curious fingers were casting upon his active weapon, his caresses on my back became a little braver but not quite, stopping just above my underwear with a touch of shy hesitance whether or not to go farther in the next rubs that followed. So simple, yet, so… teasing, making me want him to slide that very hand of his right inside my underwear to grope my ass. He didn't. So I did the honour of cutting the suspense and transfering my hand inside his briefs to finally have a full grasp of his erect member. No sooner did I apply a few strokes on it when his hand, freed now from any form of respectful reluctance, found its way underneath the front of my panties to slide a finger into me, quickly inducing a moan from my lips. There were no guises of being half-asleep now as he moved his head to capture my mouth with his whilst each of our hands below engaged each other's genitals. I didn't even notice when he had taken his eye-mask off. We were at it for a little while before I found myself sitting on top of him, stark naked as he was now, rubbing his manhood against me below. Ah, fuck condoms. According to my calendar, it wasn't my ovulation week. I had a presentiment that he might be a little too large for me and as I slid his staff inside my tightness, I found my conjecture to be completely true.
"Oh my god, you're too big," I gasped as the amount of his size overfilled my being. Still, I started moving my hips up and down, slowly at first, to hopefully get a hang of it, each downward motion provoking a moan from my mouth.
75% pleasure, 25% pain, an excellent combination so far.
I wanted to take him all up to its hilt but it felt like I didn't have enough space for more as I felt the tip of his member hit the backest wall of my room at each gravitational pull of my animal passions. It was a queer feeling; and never had I ever felt that tight in my life. Not a few minutes went by when he pulled me up to his abdomen to remove me from himself and I thought it was a bad position for his tailbone again.
"Is it sore?" I asked in a whisper, my voice concerned.
But he had a wide smile on his face as he shook his head and responded,"No, it's too good." This was said with a breathless chuckle and when I leant myself forward to level our faces, his eyes meeting my gaze in the dim darkness of the room, he repeated still with a broad grin and a light laugh: "It's too good."
I chuckled back and bent down to kiss him, giving him time to pacify the excess pleasure surging all through his body.
"So how many girls have you slept with?" I questioned a little bit later. "A hundred?"
His chest, upon which my head rested, vibrated with a soft laughter as though he found my guess amusingly incredulous. "No."
"Thirty?" He's the best in cunnilingus and has an impressive size, he must be scoring a lot.
"No, Blissetta. Around 10 to 15,” he replied quite equably. “You?"
"You're my 7th, my favourite number.” Upon saying that, I could already feel an inkling in the upcoming future that the number seven being my favourite number would ring true not just in the general form of it but also in my sexual endeavours.
"I'm actually quite a late bloomer," he confided.
"How so?"
"I mean, I had my first at 18 but I didn't have one again until I was 23."
"Oh, damn. Five year celibacy."
He laughed lightly. “Yeah."
The sex continued with what few positions he could make do with his injury, not to mention the struggle of my small person against his colossality. When I was riding him again, it felt as though I was going to squirt from pleasure. I've never squirted on a man before.. And I was too shy to wet him like that, especially his "side" of the bed because sleeping on something wet is one of the most uncomfortable feelings in the world. So I told him while he was inside me that: "I think I need to pee." Although still, I didn't stop my motions. I continued straddling him up and down, his hands occasionally gripping my waist, until the pleasure got too much for my own control that it felt like I was going to burst any second now. In a breathy voice, and with a little urgency this time, I repeated: "I think I really need to pee."
He looked at me and said, "Yeah, go ahead."
With this, I finally extricated myself from him and went to the bathroom. I think I might have cut the sexual momentum with that little disruption cos when I came back, he had his underwear on again. He said his tailbone was sore and I was absolutely fine with it because dear lord, I was sore myself. And I’m saying this again: he was too big for me.
I don't know if he had any more sleep than I ever had that night because under the observation of half-awake eyes, I saw him get up from bed pretty early, when the urban darkness was just reduced to grey, and opened the lower half of the venetian blinds. At about eight, having completely woken up now, to my annoyance, the room was finally bright from the morning sun. I took a moment to surreptitiously take two pictures of the view from the half-opened shutters from where I laid, before trying to doze off again, my back turned to Rollo. When I sneezed some time later, I heard a "bless you" from behind me and that was when I gathered he was up, too. Still, I kept my eyes closed. A couple of minutes went by, still unable to go back to sleep, I felt a light tap on my side.
"Are you awake?"
When I turned around, Rollo was holding his phone and he asked me to choose what to eat for breakfast as he gave his device to me. I picked some cheesy beef croissant from the page of the store he was ordering from, which was Starbucks, and that was it.
"How about drinks?" he asked.
"Nah."
He had to ask me that twice to make sure but it wasn’t out of shyness I declined. I just really didn’t feel like drinking anything aside from water that time.
As I sat up to wear my dress, I saw a bloodstain on the bed from my side.
"Is this yours?" I asked him, pointing at the patch of blood on the mattress.
"No, I don't sleep on that side."
Not long after, I heard him say, “It’s already here?” When I turned to look at him, he was staring at his phone in disbelief, as though disappointed. “That was fast,” he added in a mumble as he groaned to get up, clearly expressing complaisance for the delivery person to have arrived a little bit later. He dressed and then left to get our breakfast outside the building.
When I went to the bathroom, I found blood on my underwear and that was when I realised the blood on the mattress was mine. Damn... So the bastard really destroyed me, then.
We ate breakfast together at the dining table in the most casual manner for neither of us was seated and was just minding our own business, save for some few words being exchanged here and there. For a man of his size, it came somewhat a surprise to me to know he was only having one bagel for breakfast.
“I’ll have some brownies, too, after this,” he responded to my perturbed curiosity, gesturing towards the box of sweets I had my hands on last night.
I don’t really know much about nutrition nor the diet these gym enthusiasts have but, hmm... Maybe he eats a lot during lunch or dinner. I actually had asked him, one time, conversationally, during the first week we were talking, what he had for breakfast and he had the exact same thing in his response as he was having right now: one bagel, iced coffee, and brownies. I wondered if he always had the same thing in the morning… Funny how I didn't care when I just heard it and was amazed to witness it before my eyes.
It was a rather quiet morning, bordering on awkwardness, if you ask me. This is why I hate the sun. It dissolves whatever affection you had for someone during the dark hours. Watching him there in front of me, however, still munching on his bagel, in just his black Calvin Klein underwear, no glasses, hair a mess, unsmiling—definitely changed my initial perception of him from last night. Now that his torso wasn't covered with anything under plain light, I saw how robust his physical make-up really was. He wasn't really very muscular but he had broad shoulders, wide chest (a hairy one at that), strong legs, and just the overall aesthetically pleasing appearance of a fit man. He even looked more handsome to me now.
I saw the receipt on the paper bag and took note that my croissant was twice the price of his bagel. Hmm.. I should pay for that.
When I finished my croissant, I went back to bed and used my phone underneath the comforter; the sunlight wasn't my friend. I perceived his presence beside me later on with his iced coffee for I could hear the sound of ices colliding in the cup, a sound that was rather inviting to my ears, giving me the desire to wrap my hand around the drink and take a sip on it. I didn't. I remained in the sheet with my phone, listening to the crunches he was making when he'd crush the ice in between his teeth, as he, too, was on his phone, watching some funny videos he'd laugh at every now and then.
And then I did something.
"Rolloliyo?" I called.
"Yes, Blisseta?"
The exchange was very similar to when I told him I wanted some cuddles last night, except this time…
"I farted."
On cue came his voice HEAVY in sarcasm. "Thanks a lot, Blissetta. THANKS A LOT."
I laughed deliberately. "Just giving you a heads up in case it smells once I get out of the blanket."
Much later, I asked him if I could shower and he unobjectingly said yes whilst getting a clean towel for me to use. I also just dressed in the bathroom, applied lotion, and all the rest of the ritual I do after I'm washed clean. I was close to done when I heard Rollo from outside the door.
"Blissetta? Are you okay?" came his voice attached with solicitude.
"Yes!"
"Oh, alright. Cos you've been there for quite a while now…"
"I'm fine! Do you need to use the bathroom?"
"Yes."
"Oh, okay. Hang on!" I then proceeded to quicken my pace, worrying he might not be able to control it—whatever it was—for a couple more seconds. "Are you in a hurry?"
"Uhh…"
His hesitance was enough affirmation for me. With last hasty touch-ups, I grabbed my bag and opened the door, giving way for the tall Viking to attend to whatever nature had called him for.
One of the instances where I was opening my bag that morning, Rollo noticed the book I had inside: "The Flowers For Algernon". (Yes, after what happened last time, I kept in mind to always bring it around with me now.)
"You brought a book?" he had asked with an amused smile on his face.
"Haha. Yeah."
So while he was still in the bathroom, I tore a piece of paper from a blank page at the back of the book and with an eyebrow pencil (which I don't really use on my eyebrows), I wrote: "For breakfast & the brownies."
I contemplated whether to draw a flower or a heart but he might think I was in love with him or something so I just decided to draw a tree. And then at the bottom, I added my name. I heard him getting out of the bathroom so I slipped the note in the book for the moment, deciding to continue that business later.
I think it was close to 10am when he dressed up and told me he was going to the gym. With this, I hurried to wear my shoes and prepared my things to go. Then he ordered a ride for me before he walked for the door. That was when I remembered the note I had stuck in my book.
"Oh, wait. I left something."
I then hastened to go towards the window to reach my side of the bed and knelt in front of the nightstand to open the drawer I had stashed my undergarments from last night. In the guise of taking some belongings I kept in the now empty case, I opened my bag I placed on the bed and took the note I sandwiched in the book and threw it into the drawer. Oh, no… He was sauntering away from the door to check up on me at a closer proximity. I began to panic a little, afraid he might catch what I was up to as I dug for the change from the cab last night in my messy state of a bag. He was now standing on the other side of the bed in time I had sneakily thrown two paper bills into the case, feeling a little uneasy at how it wasn't laid gracefully when I shut the drawer close in a hasty fashion.
Did he see me? That would be so embarrassing...
After that, we left his unit together, stopping a bit on the ground floor to return the "visitor's pass" and retrieve my ID. Although he was injured, he still walked faster than I did because of the long strides of his goddamn legs. And his gait seemed completely normal to me now that we were out in public.
As soon as we were out of the building, a car was already waiting ahead of us down the shallow stairs.
"I think that's your ride," he muttered under his breath as he went on ahead to check. He took a few paces down the steps and then stopped to wait for me.
"Is that it?" I called over.
"Yes!"
I marched towards him and as I got closer, he opened his arms to hug me goodbye. I dove into his embrace by wrapping my own arms around his neck—a proceeding which came easy for me to perform as I was on higher ground so I was taller than him for the first time.
"I'll message you later," he said in my ear.
"Alright. Thanks, Rolloliyo,” I cheerfully said as we let go. “Tata!"
"Take care, Blissetta."
When I got in the car, I watched him go off in the other direction. And then later on, I asked the driver whether it was already paid or—
"It's already paid, Miss."
Ah, fuck. How much, I wondered. I owed him again, it seemed.
When I got home, it seemed as though a faint trace of his scent lingered about me for I could still smell that mouthwash-like aroma he carried, rendering me a little worried my sisters could sniff I spent my Saturday night with a man instead of the excuse I told them that I was sleeping over at Layla's.
At 10:32am, when I was finally back in my own room, I sent him a voice message that said: "I'm homeee, Rollolololiyo. Thanks for the wonderful time."
It was an hour later when he replied by once again, singing my name, which I only opened at seven in the evening.
"Blissetta, etta, etta, eh, eh. I'm glad you got home safeee. I'm glad you got home safeee." This he said with a cheery tune so different from his unsmiling mood that morning that it made me think it was fake. And then in a regular speaking voice, suspiciously enunciating each syllable, he slowly added: "Thanks–for–thee–won–der–full–time–all–so." Following that was an odd laughter that sounded almost spoken, triggering my over-analysing tendencies that it was sarcasm. In a flash came the memory of me fleeing to the bathroom in the middle of an intercourse, failing to make him release and I instantly felt awful because he really gave me so much pleasure.. But it wasn't my fault he's got a huge dick, okay?!
Me: "That laugh. Lmaoooo. Hang you, Rolloliyo.”
Immediately, I received a response from him, and the chat flowed almost steady that evening.
Him: "Hang you? You hanging, Blisettaaaaa."
Me: "Awww, doesn't your bed feel lonely now that I'm not there. Hahahahahaha."
Him: “I am not sure, I’ll have to ask the bed it’s feelings on how he feels with one less tiny body on the bed 🤣🤣🤣”
Me: “OK! I HOPE HE ANSWERS.”
Him: “Hahahahahahaha. He is giving me the silent treatment 🙄🤣”
Me: “Ah, I knew I should've pissed on it.”
Him: “For fuck’s sake 🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮”
Me: “HAHAHAHAHAH. A jest, monsieur.”
Him: “Yah, yah, yah, comediannnnn.”
Me: “It gets awkward in the morning, non? 🤣🤣🤣 I always wonder why.”
Him: "Nah, I don’t think so. You just took 20 years in the bathroom and I’m not a morning person. Lol."
Having read that, I felt a stir of guilt on my part, displeased to myself for causing an inconvenience for him in his own abode.
Me: "Come onnnn. I thought you lived with a woman 🤣🤣”
Him: "Why? Why did you think I lived with a woman? Cos of my toiletries?”
He did have large bottles of shampoo and conditioner that looked and smelled feminine. In fact, they were the ones I used. But I guess those came with the condominium unit because I saw he had smaller containers for hair products which were for men. The notion that a woman was living with him in his unit didn’t come to mind at all.
Me: "Well, I thought you lived with that girl from Thailand. I mean Bali."
Him: "No, she's not living with me. I told you we just broke up in May because of what happened."
Me: "No, you told me that you lived with her last year."
I heard wrong, then? Or was he just not getting me. Cos if he lived with his ex before then surely he knows how long a woman takes in the shower.
It took him quite a while to give me a response and when I saw the notification preview of the message he sent almost 20 minutes later, I was immediately stricken with humiliation when I read the words: “You gobshite, I just seen you left money in the drawer.”
Holy sh—
Instantly, replays of the image that morning filled my head when I was squatting down in front of the drawer and he stood on the other side of the bed... So he saw me, then? Oh gosh, the embarrassment! I wondered what he thought of me crouching down like that and fishing out bills from my bag… Did I at least look cute as I did so? I contemplated whether to respond to him that night or leave it for tomorrow. What is it with money, anyway, and the humiliating factor that comes with it… I mean, I knew the whole reason I did it in secret was because I had a huge feeling that if I were to give it to him directly, I’d be answered with a refusal.
Him: "Why did you do that 🤣 I didn’t want any money for I was doing it out the kindness of my heart."
After about ten minutes, I just decided to just pour out my real sentiments about what he witnessed, which was a mixture of embarrassment, annoyance, and frustrating hilarity of it all.
Me: “YOU SAW ME??? UGH, DAMN IT. Well I didn't want to owe you. Hahahahahaha."
Him: “No, I mean I just found it now. I didn’t see you do it at the time you GOBSHITE 🤣 Lmaooo, you wouldn’t have owed me. Like I said, nice guy—etc, etc, etc 🤣”
"HAHAHA. SURPRISEEE!"—this I said through audio, my laughter ringing from genuine amusement, having been thoroughly relieved and glad he didn't actually see me do it.
"Well, at least on the note you could've writ down a kiss or something. You said 'For breakfast... and the brownies, Bliss'," he stated through a voice note as well, his tone bearing the sound of one who was reading something. "Not even a kiss like—WHAT THE FUCK, BLISSETTA."
“A what? A kiss?” I repeated, as though finding it a surprise. Him complaining like that had my lips stretched wide like an idiot the entire time, the embarrassment I felt not too long ago completely effaced now. “ I—I think I put down... I drew something like a tree."
"Yeah, exactly, you drew a tree. You could've just put a kiss at the end, you know, be sweet and kind but obviously, obviously you're not, but I'm just a really nice guy. Compared to you." He shortly laughed saying the last part.
"I was supposed to draw a flower, actually, but I realised a tree is bigger so.. HAHAHA. It's MORE SPECIAL, Rolloliyo."
"Well, unfortunately, I think you haven't got a future career as an artist."
"Oh, so you really expect me to draw, uhm, I dunno, a realistic drawing of a tree, out of an eyebrow pencil, from a torn page of a book."
He broke into a gale of laughter. "Exactly, Picasso. Exactly. That's what I was expecting."
"Aww, I should've written something on your mirror instead. You know, with lipstick like you do in the movies."
"That's the horror films so no, I don't know. I don't know at all what you're on about."
"Yeah, that's the point. To scare you."
"Well, I would've seen you do it in the mirror—Blissetta, etta, etta, eh, eh, eh."
"No, because I'd do it in the bathroom mirror."
"Yes, but I would know it was you because you spent 25 million years in the bathroom—Blissetta, etta, etta."
A sheepish laughter escaped me because his statement, said out loud now, once again, made me feel guilty. "Well," I began before interrupted by another light laugh, "I mean, of course you'd know it's me. I mean, I'm not going to try to hide that it's not from me."
"Yes, because you spent 25 thousand years in the bathroom."
Man… He really wouldn't let it go, would he?
"Ah. Haha. Je suis vraiment désolée pour ça, Rollo."
"Oui, oui, bonjour. Je m'appelle Rollo. Oui, oui, oui, oui."
I felt too bad now to even prolong the conversation so I just said: "Bonne nuit." Besides, it was almost ten and he was speaking gibberish French.
He replied with "bonne nuit" as well except that he enunciated it a little too clearly and pronounced the "t" in "nuit" a little too much when he shouldn't at all.
The next day | September 19
7:33pm
Him: "You watching the queen's funeral?"
Me: "No, babe. Are you?"
Him: "Yeah, I ammmmmmmm. I just wanted to see if they dropped the coffin cos it's supposed to be so heavy but they didn't."
Me: "You sound disappointed."
Him: "Hahahahahaha. Nah, that would have been awful if they dropped it. I'm not evil."
Me: "So you're glad, then?"
Him: "Yeah I’m glad they didn’t drop the coffin 🤣"
Me: "Alright 🤣🤣"
Him: "Yah, Blissetttatataaaaaaa."
I left him at that but at 9:53pm, I was feeling clingy so I called out his name on text. It was at this point confessions and thoughts from the first night had been unleashed.
Me: "ROLLOLIYOOOO."
Him: "Blissettattatta."
Me: "I want hug."
Him: "There’s space here for hug next to me."
Me: "OK, I'll be there in 5 minutes."
Him: "Wow. Fastttttttttttter than F1 car."
Me: "HAHAHAHAHAHA."
Him: "If only you that fast in the bathroom 🙄🙄🙄🙄"
Me: "Oh honestlyyy, you gonna hold that against me foreverrr?? 🤣🤣🤣"
To be fair, I couldn't blame him, in all consideration. Although women are universally known to take longer showers, I admit I do mine for an unreasonably longer time—even my sisters complain about it.
Me: "Only when I shower, OK!"
Definitely not just when I shower at all.
Him: "Lmaoooo. Well next time, invite me into the shower."
Me: "I won't leave the door locked so if you want to pee or whatever, you can just do it while I'm there 🙂🙂"
Him: "🤣🤣🤣🤣 Thanks so much, Blissetttttttaaaaaa."
Me: "It's your place after all. HAHAHAHA."
Him: "Hahaha. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Least I got to the toilet eventually 🤣"
Me: "Omg. Hahahaha, so it was really that bad. I'm terribly sorry, Rolloliyooo 🤣🤣"
Him: "It’s okay, you made up for it during the night 🤣"
Me: "Hahahahaha. Yeah, I'm a very good movie companion 🤣" (sarcasm)
Him: "I meant after the movies. They were terrible 🤣"
Me: "I wasn't even paying 75% attention to the movies to be honest. Hahaha."
Him: "Neither was I to be honest."
Me: "Yeah, had to sit through a whole film before I could get to that goddamn bed."
Him: "Lmaooooo. You could have got on at anytime 🤣 I wasn’t stopping you."
Me: "Well, you weren't very inviting either! Hahahahaha. To myself, I was all—'Maybe I'll just have to sleep here on the couch' 🤣🤣"
Him: "Nah, I wouldn’t have made you sleep on the couch for fuck's sake 🤣 Always welcome on the bed."
Me: "Well, I didn't know that, Rolloliyo. We were both soooo good at being distant. HAHAHAHAHA."
Him: "We really were. Least it ended up in us being close 🤣 Really close."
Me: "Yeah, I decided I wasn't going to waste my Saturday night sleeping back to back with a guy."
Him: "And you ended up on top of me. Haha."
Me: "I still have to get used to you though."
Him: "Yeah, I'm not sure you could take all of me. Lol."
Me: "You must feel like a giant."
Him: "Haha. It feels good, though."
I didn't know what to say anymore so I sent a sticker of two hands doing a "High-5" and then another one that said "Congratulations!" And lastly, a sticker of Gollum singing.
Him: "Way to kill the mood, Blissettttaaaa."
Me: "Ohh.... There was a mood."
Him: "I was trying to create oneeeeeee, Blissetttatttatataaaa."
“Well, I couldn’t hear it from your text,” I said through audio.
“Yeah, because you can’t hear texts, Blissetta, etta, etta, eh, eh, eh, eh…” sang he.
“But to be honest, Rolloliyo, you weren’t how I expected you to be,” I began, for as the lateness of the night approaches, my feminine sensibilities awaken.
“Why is that, Blissetta? What did you expect and how was it different?”
“Well, I expected you to be just how you were during the first couple of hours we were together.” I paused to laugh lightly. “But you turned out to be quite sweet,” I went on, “… and intimate. In bed. So that was.. I didn’t expect that.”
“Well, it just shows that we should’ve just skipped the movies and ju—” he chortled, as if finding what he was about to say completely droll “—jumped straight to the bed part, then, Blissetta, etta, etta.”
“I thought you had no sweet bones in your body,” I continued with the sensible musings of a woman stuck in her own daydream.
“You just have to, uhm, jump into bed—haha—to find me, uhm, sweet bones.”
Me: “Hahaha, noted.” (sent 11:48pm)
Him: “Bonnne nuitttt.” (sent 11:50pm)
The next day, September 20th, we didn’t feel the need to converse at all. I went out with Layla and had dinner with her and per usual, we shared the latest tidings of our lives. That was when she started talking about her ex, the asshole we met in the same place she met Patch. Of course, at that time, we had no idea he was going to turn out to be an asshole.
“...so my mother asked Rollo to take care of our cousin—"
“Oh my God," immediately came my involuntary ejaculation the moment she said those words.
“What?” she asked in confusion.
I told her to go on with her story first and after we were done talking badly about her ex, I said: “Funny you mentioned Rollo because I actually hooked up with one last Saturday night.”
Yes, that’s right. That stupid ex of hers, whom I despise with all the loathing I am capable of, shares the same name with my English viking. I had completely forgotten it... So naturally, I told her about my Rollo and my encounter with him. I also mentioned the German dude to her and told her how both of them would be perfect for each other.
“I’ll introduce you to him one of these days.”
She got excited when I added how tall and good-looking he was. I couldn't show her a picture just yet, my phone could hardly connect to data. But when I got home and had finally sent her both pictures of Rollo and the German, she couldn't not agree with me. They were beautiful creatures.
That night, I posted a few stories on my Instagram and two of them are a video of the place Layla and I went to, and another one of me walking away from the camera with a magnificent view. I found a solution to my problem with the aforementioned app. Just like what I did on my Facebook account, I muted everyone I followed whom I know personally or online, both posts and stories of theirs, except a selective few like Layla and Rollo; so that my page looks clean now, filled with just the content I want to see which are mostly just cats, dogs, and memes, really.
The next day, September 21st, at 8am, Rollo sent a voice note which slightly aroused my nerves because it was longer than 10 seconds and it had nothing in it but him annoyingly singing my name.
Me: “Wtf, 16 seconds of that. I was thinking maybe it had some 'good morning' in it or something.”
Him: “Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha 🤣 I was laughing after I sent it.”
“Ah, you’ve gone obsessed with my name, Rolloliyo. Like, you’re practically 3cm closer to writing a whole song with just Blissetta-etta-eh-eh-eh in it.”
“Uhm, actually it’s just more that I like to let you sit through me saying being—Blissetta, etta, etta, etta, etta, eh, eh…” Him singing my name for the umpteenth time ridiculously stretched the audio for 21 seconds, his amusement in getting into my nerves apparent at the ring of laughter at the end of the message.
I sent a sticker of Gollum being all “...”
He replied two hours later with another sticker of Gollum waving a hand, either for bye or hi, I don’t know. I had nothing to say to that anymore so I just left it at that.
It was around this time I saw Kaladin was now in Thailand when I opened Bumble and visited his profile. He was supposed to be in my city on the 12th until the 19th but it seemed his sojourn in the capital extended for a week for his location didn't change to my city until the 19th, just two days after I spent a night with Rollo. And when it did, my hopes rose up from whence I'd abandoned them and I got ecstatic because we were finally in the same place now. Closer than ever. I waited again. No, no. Not again, because deep down, I never stopped. I was just a tad bit more hopeful this time. Perhaps he hadn't given up on me yet…
However, two days later, as we presently speak, my hopes were once again crushed, this time into dust, for as I’ve said, his location had now changed to Thailand…