When it hurts

I know that most men hate to be interrupted, especially when they are so into it and are about to climax, which is why I am so happy to have found a man who cares more about me than his sexual satisfaction.

I have always known and felt that he is different. He defies the norms we have of what men are like. He's not just a man, he's a gentleman. Through and through.

Last night, he noticed something wrong with my V. Part of it was literally inflamed, a complication I usually acquire after wearing napkins for my period. He did not think twice. He stopped. Just stopped. To be fair, I even tried to tell him that I am not hurting, but I have fooled no one.

What was more surprising was the fact that he did not complain about it, and even asked for its condition this morning.

What was even more surprising was that he gave me a massage last night in lieu of a second round.

Hey, I wonder how many ladies are as lucky as me to have such a gentleman for a lover.

Princess or Goddess?

Until now, I don't know what I like best, being a princess or a goddess.

Here's the thing. I'm his princess when I am the one paying for an overnight stay, when I badly need a massage, when I'm sick, or when I'm feeling really down.

He calls me goddess when he's paying, because naturally I would have to be the one to perform, which is something we have agreed non-verbally.

Take for example last Sunday. I was paying, and he did not bother waiting for me to make the first move.

He saw me busy with his PSP, and yet he did not care and went ahead with foreplay, his way.

Then he mumbled something like, "Just keep on playing there, and I'll take care of everything down here."

Ha-ha! As if I could concentrate on a video game when heaven beckons! And he knows this; it just makes him laugh to see me try.