The Lovers Diary IX,
I fucking love him, in the most platonic way. I first met the ex-stripper about seven years ago. He is 6’2, gorgeous black thick hair, big and bearish, fit, and giant features EVERYWHERE, top to bottom. Big eyebrows, big nose, huge smile, big chest, huge cock, legs, everything is delicious. He is hairy, in that cuddly perfect amount. I saw him on a dating site and had to have him. I felt he was out of my league, but couldn’t stand the possibility of not trying to capture him. He responded delightfully, professionally, he is one of the biggest ethical sluts I know and I’ve always admired that about him. He has been in an ethically open relationship, living apart from his long term blonde girlfriend for about five or six years I think now. We don’t talk unless it is for hooking up. When I am in a relationship he leaves me alone and I love that about him. I message him and we pick up instantly where we left off. His enthusiasm and emotional stability matches nobody else I’ve met.
He came from the East Coast, and despite when he was a stripper he never drinks. He didn’t drink. He has quietly, confidently, been climbing his industry in marketing the last years and he truly is what I see as a prime example of a slutty man who doesn’t leave ashes of women behind. I’m pretty shy, and he would drag me into thrills of lust I am not used to. Vibrator? What in the actual fuck is this. He was the first. His experience in many areas trumps mine, he is the only person I have ever met more experienced than me. Or more accurately, more well-rounded in his experiences. For as experienced I am in sexual escapades, I have a great deal of gaps and inexperience’s in areas.
He goes down once, twice, he makes sure the ecstasy of pleasure is screaming from deep within you. He fucks from behind, obviously, and he loves missionary. He is the only person I have actually enjoyed calling me good girl in bed or acting “daddy”. He loves the way I suck his big cock and I am honestly surprised he was never in porn. Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has been. I will ask at some point.
He has a huge pregnancy fetish, I remember one time we hung out and he gushed how beautiful pregnant women were. I always enjoyed about him he had a vasectomy quite young. He knew he never wanted to be a daddy. Just a kinky daddy. He just loved pregnant women, but not children. I didn’t understand until I became pregnant myself. Of course, I immediately messaged him because I knew he would be so fucking excited. A stark contrast to bb daddy in his, “why are you keeping the bb again?” We were never in a relationship, bb daddy was, I had thought, my friend of several years. The day I found out, sitting frozen in my bathroom with the positive test hyperventilating, I called bb daddy and told him. Three weeks later, I told and saw my loving and warm stripper. Probably the same week bb daddy was knocking up bb mama #4.
I needed the ex-stripper’s love of women and enthusiasm to not unhinge my overwhelming rage on bb daddy and make my pregnancy difficult. I was committed no matter what to try to be as peaceful emotionally and calm in my life as possible. I knew my ex-stripper would be excited to see my bump, no matter how small or big. He was always a gentleman before, too. Grabbing my bags and getting my coat whenever I arrived. Of course I had to sleep over. I was the flakier one than him earlier on. He called me out on accountability once, I used to be into ghosting people and I could not handle life, even if I cared about someone. I stopped doing that. I don’t think I was used to the sincerity and giant warmth he radiates and not being ashamed of being slutty. He never once shamed me or put me down in all the years I’ve known him.
He was one of the only people I knew outside of my non-sexual friends (all of them know), who I could talk to about work. He would be excited to hear about my day or weird experiences, my shitty interactions or funny stories. He could not get enough. That has stayed consistent. I could drink, even if he didn’t. He had some just for those occasions. When I first met him, his arrogance put me off, but it is a slight whatever in all the other qualities. I remember seeing his bookshelf the first time I came over, “Ohh you have lovely books. Kurt Vonnegut!”
“Yeah, I’m somebody with taste!” He laughed
I was not impressed.
He has a king size bed and soft sheets. All the usual slut gear handy, the big condoms, lube, baby wipes, and vibrator for the lady if needed. He fucks like a strong bear with an insatiable thirst for pleasure. He is a true hedonist in my views, unapologetic in his pleasure seeking. He was one of the only people I knew really bummed out when I went red. He loved my dark hair and light eyes. He liked who I was. Who I am. I adore him in the same ways I have felt towards camper van, but am not sure if I will ever see my wealthy bratty camper van friend again. Except camper van never knew my whole story, just some of it.
My ex-stripper isn’t satisfied with one sex, two sex, he is primal and I love that. He growls a bit and I love that. I scratch his back and he flows into the pleasure.
I would be overwhelmed by his sex stories. The sex swing, we never used but he would have. The swinger parties he used to host in the East Coast. The orgies, the threesomes. I am a nervous freckle among stories like that. Lost in trance over the tsunami of lust and openness. He would reach out to me and I would ignore him. One time I was sitting in a subway restaurant exhausted from work, and he was walking by. A neighbourhood he is never, ever in. He began waving and came inside right away. I was so excited to be there with him and saw him a couple days later. I love chance encounters like that and believe they happen for a reason. He fosters dogs and has never had one long term. He got into wood working in his home which I found bizarre in his tiny apartment, but he always seems to make things work while holding onto great enthusiasm. I know it is possible, but I can’t wrap my head around seeing him sad or even angry. I can’t imagine it even if I try to.
He is a great cuddler, he hugs tightly, but not too tightly. He grabs my hair and spanks me, he never has to be told what to do or why. He just knows. He would tell me about his other dates sometimes which I wasn’t a big fan of, but it didn’t matter.
When Covid is over you can bet your ass I am seeing if he is around because I have not seen him since before I moved away, 5 months pregnant in 2020.