Delayed Gratification

It was the summer after my second year of university and I was back from residence and suffering from parental overload. A lot of my friends had either stayed in the cities to which their university was located or were busy with jobs. I had a pre-arranged night shift job close to my home town every summer, and I didn’t have a boyfriend to help pass the time in the afternoons – it was just me, my over-bearing parents and my boring-ass factory job – fuckin’ save me!

Well... someone upstairs heard my cries because one rare night I was out at the local pub district and I ran into one of my ex-boyfriends’ closest friends. Now, this may seem like no biggie, but this was not just any guy – Greg was the main focus of my clandestine lust for the better part of a year. The entire time I dated his friend, I secretly wished it was him. Many times that we were in bed, I even fantasized that it was Greg instead – it helped our sex life greatly – although the poor guy would have been crushed if he found out the ‘real’ reason why I was so horny all the time.

It was a damn miracle that I never called out Greg’s name by accident!

Close to two years had gone by since that awkward situation, and since I’d seen him at all, but nothing had changed. The moment I saw him, my stomach did I few back flips of sexual joy and I quickly ditched my friends to go over and talk to him. We had always got along before, with innocent flirtations and good conversation, so it wasn’t a surprise when he gave me a giant hug when he saw me.

“JOCK! O my god! How the hell are ya?” (I played softball, and in comparison to him and his pot-smoking, rockstar lifestyle burn-out friends, that made me an uber-athlete, to which they loved teasing me about.)

After a few minutes of catching up (and me striping him naked with my eyes) he gave me another hug along with his phone number. He insisted that I gave him a call and we could hang out sometime. Wow, God doesn’t hate me after all! I tried not to be too eager, even though it was the phone call I had wanted to make for the last 3 years! I had wanted to get in touch with him after I broke up with his friend, but wasn’t sure about the proper protocol or acceptable ‘cooling off period’ that followed that situation. This time, I waited about a week – it was one of the longest weeks of my life, although my day dreaming of possible scenarios did help the time go faster at my otherwise mind-numbing job.

There was also the possibility that Greg was just trying to be nice when I saw him that night, so I was still nervous about calling him. I had never spoken to him on the phone before. When I called he seemed genuinely happy to hear from me and suggested that I came over to his place the next day. We had a great time together; I had forgotten how much I enjoyed his company, even though nothing physical happened between us that night... or the ones that followed.

I had started making a routine of spending a couple hours at his place before I went to my night job a few nights a week; it became my refuge. Although the sexual tension was so incredible between us (at least I thought so from my perspective), I had pretty much concluded that too much time had passed for us to go down that road. A few times some of his friends stopped by unexpectedly, including my ex-boyfriend. Apart from some initial confused looks and a few awkward silences, no one ever brought up the elephant in the corner, so we just left it alone. I think it was safe to say that enough time had passed that it wasn’t really their business anyway.

It was close to the end of the summer by this point and I would shortly move back to school residence. I was pleasantly surprised how the later part of my summer had turned out. I had gone over to Greg’s place for our normal mid-week hang out, but this time was different. He did something that he hadn’t done in over 3 years – he called me by my real name; I had never heard it sound so sexy.

He had called me over to him, affectionately.

My heart was racing as I walked towards him – for a split second I thought I was going to pass out from the anticipation... No mixed signals; I was certain what was about to happen.

As soon as I was close enough, we dove into each other and finally engaged in a 3-year-long-overdue kiss. It was mind-blowing, but also a bit of a blur at the same time – like we had simmered the pot for way too long and got so hot that it just exploded into a million pieces.

We had already wasted enough time... we staggered over to his bed, undressing each other and never stopped kissing the entire journey. I had imagined this moment so many times that I was almost in disbelief that it was actually happening. I had desired him for so damn long so I wanted to savour every inch of his body. The foreplay and oral sex lasted a euphoric eternity – it was actually fun as well as erotic. I didn’t normally enjoy giving head, but I loved every second of it with him.

I even swallowed – which I’ve done only a couple times in my life. We had both already climaxed and we hadn’t even had intercourse yet.

We took a quick break to catch our breath and he went to search for a condom. I enjoyed watching his bare ass hoping around his room – until he came back with bad news – no condom.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!

A part of me wanted to cry in disappointment, but I laughed it off and lovingly called him an idiot or something along those lines. He joined me back in his bed and we gently kissed and enjoyed just being together... finally, after all that time.

I moved back to university that weekend and I missed him terribly, but it is unbelievable how distracting life can become; Before I noticed, a month had passed since that night we were together, and then a year.

I never saw him again.