‘Still in MANCHESTAH!
Jenny and I went to see Ronin today. It was ace! I love Jean Reno (I saw Leon last week – SKILL!).
Afterwards she took me for a great Indian on a street full of Indian restaurants. We even took in our own booze. Brilliant.
I wish I didn’t feel so bloody complicated about Jenny. I love her company and I think she’s gorgeous, but I just can’t figure out what we mean to each other. I’ve been here for a couple of days now and we still haven’t taken the plunge and I know that it’s because she can tell I’m holding back.
Jenny and I are capable of brilliant sex, but I just don’t know where it will all lead. I want a relationship with her, that’s obvious, but I don’t think I’m quite ready yet, not this soon after Lili. I will be ready; I just need some time. But I think Jenny wants me to make the move and bring us both together – then again, I’m not sure. Does she just want the sexual workout? And I’d love to be having sex with her – I fancy her like hell, but I don’t want us to be simple fuck-buddies. If it’s going to work with Jenny, I want it to be because we’re going somewhere with it.
God, I’ve always adored Jenny, but I’ve never been able to figure her out and I’m not sure she can figure me out, either. It’s like we really want each other, but are almost too cool to express it to each other, too aloof. It’s ‘Girl Afraid’ all over again.
And right now, I’m sitting in her spare room bed, when I could be in her room, her bed, making love to her. That’s why I came to MANCHESTUH, for God’s sake, and I’m pretty sure that’s why she invited me. Last nite and tonite, I could have fucked her. It was obvious that she wanted me to – just like all those times before. I could have fucked Jenny Taylor (both ways). Just like before. I’ll never forget the last time I fucked her gorgeous arse – it was the best sex I ever had, believe me. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. And I’m here, now, turning that down! Am I mad? No, I want her, but I want more than to simply be her casual bit of rough now and again. It’s the gratuitousness that’s putting me off.
Oh, Jenny. I know I’ll regret this for the rest of my life, because right now there’s nothing more I would love to do in this entire world than make love to you and come in your arse. But should we be lovers, or fuck-buddies, or should we just get to work on this friendship of ours? If we can’t open up emotionally to each other, are we supposed to be just friends? I love you so much that sometimes, fucking your butt – however heavenly it sounds (and feels, believe me), just doesn’t seem right. I want to be the man who does that with you for a living. And I can’t be that man right now. One day soon. Very soon, I hope but not right now.
Jenny moves to AFRICA in February. Maybe that’s a good indicator that she doesn’t want me as much as I want her…
I do love you, Jenny, and maybe we need to be able to look at each other in the eyes as friends after all this, so maybe this abstinence is for the best.
We always end up coming together when I’m emotionally damaged. Just once I’d love to be ready for her, to be hers and hers alone. But it never happens that way, does it?
I’ve really got to stop fucking with myself, but this’ll come back and haunt me, I know it.’
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