Sienna's Lovers

The moments of suspicion have been building up and crushing the other feelings I have for BBB.

The Sunday he had a drink in the afternoon with this girl he used to be in love with, and didn't tell me about til afterwards (he bumped into her by accident, which I still find hard to believe 100%).

The party incident where he talked and laughed with that Spanish girl and I saw them exchange numbers.
And why the heck not? We were at a party, people were mingling, I was standing by the bar in the kitchen for 15 mins talking to a fellow writer and erotic poet whom I even told the title of my book to (despite being usually hyper careful and coy, I thought it can't hurt as he doesn't really know me), so it's great that BBB is having a good time too and not clinging onto my skirt or sitting in a corner sulking.

The 1:30am phone call he let go unanswered (it was his business partner in another time zone...?)

So I know exactly what my problem is: Projection. Or is it? The trouble with paranoia is you just don't know if they really ARE after you - or after your boyfriend, in my case.

Then on Wednesday I had a missed call from him when I came out of the gym, I tried calling him back, no reply. No idea why he'd called (no message), so I didn't worry too much about it.

Later he tried to call me again, but I was on the phone to Daddy Friend Alexander who I hadn't spoken to in about a year, so I let it go to voice mail.

After I hung up, having heard all about Alexander's recent trips and business adventures I managed to get through to BBB, who was in what sounded like a noisy bar.

"I am near Old Street", he told me (which is near me), but he was unable to tell me which bar or street he was in.

"Do you want to find out? Just look at the sign on the pub and I could come down" I said, slightly miffed at having missed a few hours of drinking time with him for the sake of a swim and a read of my book in the sunny park. Which was nice, but a bit lonely.

I tried not to let it annoy me that he tags along whenever I'm out with friends and he has nothing else on, which is fine but makes him appear a bit like a passenger in my book... not very appealing. So the first chance he gets to let me tag along with his buddies, he misses it and can't even text me about it! Ugh...

I said it was fine for him to come over to mine later, as he said he wouldn't be staying much longer... so I finished watching the Apprentice with my lodger and washed up, and waited... he didn't rock up until around 11:15pm or so, and he was drunk in a rather cute way.

We cuddled on the sofa and chatted about his house buying plans and other stuff, and I felt quite happy there in his arms watching his messy hair flop around and stroking his leg, and after a bit more snogging we went to bed.

I didn't want anything else to happen since I felt like I wanted to preserve a smidgen of mystery and dignity. After all I don't run a hotel, less alone a convenient brothel so I just put a rather inaccessible pair of PJs on and told him I was tired.

The next morning, he wondered why I seemed "stressed"... and after a bit of soul-searching for me and a bit more prompting from him, I confessed that I was still stressing out over these recent moments of suspicion as listed above...
And tears started stinging my eyes, so I had to look away.

"Don't cry" he told me, "come here" and he pulled me into his arms on my sofa, the cereal abandoned in front of us.

He held me close and I confessed how hurt and insecure I had felt about these girls, the night at the pub I wasn't asked along to and that call after midnight, based on my experiences they are major red flags.

It's like having been in a car crash and slowly learning to be a passenger in a car again, it's so intensely scary.

"Please calm down" he said with a look of deep concern and warmth in his eyes, and I held his gaze despite my tears and started to relax a bit.

Of course, I was late for work and looked a mess. But I felt much better.

H keeps telling me how happy he is to have found me, and I am so happy I have found him too.

... and I've just gone PRO on blog.co.uk!

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"Where do you want to be five years from now?" BBB asked me during one of our first dates, wrapped up against the evening chill in our too-thin summer coats and watching the sun set from the South Bank.
"Married with two kids, writing books" I replied without hesitation. "You?"
"Depends whether you're asking me, or my employer", he replied a bit vaguely, possibly taken aback by my response.
Or maybe I didn't ask him back straightaway, but waited for the right time over dinner.
"I'll be 36 then", I remember musing. Thinking: a fucking geriatric, as far as my womb is concerned.
[sorry to offend everyone over 35, but I am just being honest about what was going through my head]

As we ate a lovely Mexican dinner he confessed that he'd split from his ex because she wanted '2 kids and a Volvo' before the age of 30, and she's 28.

I drew my hand back immediately and battled a sick, sinking feeling in my stomach with another gulp of wine.
Just what was I doing on a date with a guy in that kind of life stage?

I know exactly why I gave him the benefit of the doubt though, he is just too fucking lovely, I feel great around him and I don't want to let it go just yet.

Still, I should have stayed chaste since all this mindfuck only started after my pussy went first!

Later that night, when he kissed me wet under the street lights on Westminster Bridge with Big Ben striking midnight behind us (I'd already decided to go home alone, again) I looked him in the eyes and asked: "Why oh why can't you be five years older!?" wishing to God I could just relax and let him make love to me, knowing we both wanted the same things.
"Because then you'd be married with two children", he replied - the smug bastard!

Hm...

I knew this issue wasn't just going to go away... at least if you're not having sex you don't have to worry about potential consequences.

Hot sex aside, it is confusing to think I am yet again sharing my bed with a man who hasn't expressed a desire that his children share my genes.

Yet he has invited me to meet his sister on her idyllic island, his sister who is a happily married mum of a one-year old, and younger than me.

How will I cope with that?

Over the weekend the subject of adoption came up through an article in the Guardian, and I just feel I have to do something.
Then this morning on GMTV there was a couple talking about fostering.

Bleary-eyed BBB didn't seem like the ideal discussion partner at that time in the morning, but he saw the smile on my face as I watched this inspiring couple and their young charge.

Last night we'd had a long chat before a drawn-out love making session, not sure if he worries about losing me and just getting his end away as much as possible before the invariable end, but I wish I'd not let him stay over yet.
It is all getting too raw and painful again.

I mean, what am I doing? I clearly don't have the clear head and patience to get involved in a relationship, I'd rather just concentrate on being single and becoming a mum without the messy involvement of a man in my life.

On the other hand, it's what every woman dreams of and every child deserves, a "proper" family unit and a supportive partner. And, ideally, a biological child.

That he relies on me for contraception and went to see a woman yesterday who he used to be in love with just adds extra dimensions to the general feeling of head-fuck.

As you probably guessed from my last post, I couldn't resist BBB's advances any longer and got utterly seduced over the weekend.

But it was definitely worth it. I mean, waiting was worth it (I knew him and his intentions much better and was much clearer about my own feelings), but giving in was worth it too given the state of my soaking pyjama bottoms and the rock-hard erection I'd had to go to sleep next to on previous occasions. Very frustrating, and the release was very welcome indeed. I just couldn't hold off wanting him inside me any longer, and he felt the same, if not stronger. I don't think he would have taken no for an answer much longer and the lusty urge we consumed each other with betrayed his polite demeanour in daylight.

We have seen each other nearly every day. I think I didn't even rack up this many hours and days and nights together with GB until we'd been going out for around 6 months or so.
The advantages of seeing someone close to home as opposed to a long-distance relationship!

I don't shrink from his touch like I often found myself with GB. Just why did I keep compromising myself? I mean that man smelt, he crept me out by staring at me like a lunatic in bed and over breakfast, his touch was sticky-clammy and he only ever got a semi!

BBB is utterly gorgeous with impeccable manners. He carries my bag for me. He opens doors, lets me step through first; takes my wine glass from my hand to wait until the others have arrived at the table, he is polite to all my friends and 'fixes my stuff'. All good things, all things this book advised me to wait for until I slept with him.
I knew by the look in his eyes he had fallen for me as I am falling for him before he told me, so what if he didn't actually say it until we locked eyes bathed in each others' sweat.

As for my other priority, being a mum... the urgency has somewhat left me after my ill-fated previous attempt, and I no longer look at bumps and babies with envy. I know my time will come when it is right.
I've even worn the top I bought in Spain for my growing bump-which-never-was to work, and felt fabulous.
Of course, it is confusing sharing your bed with a man you adore who is just the wrong side of 30... but has told you he believes in "growing with your responsibilities".

As we drifted off to sleep on Friday night, my hands on his chest having stopped his movements and my mouth withdrawn from his tongue to indicate that I just didn't feel ready yet, I thought I'd better explain.

"You know... there is a reason I want to wait", I told him. And then I couldn't get the words out.
"It's not fair if I don't tell you..." I continued, thinking he deserves to know and that it can't be a big secret if it is such a big reason for me to be so reluctant instead of going with the flow. I mean I enjoyed having him in my bed or he wouldn't be there, and I found it nearly as hard to stop playing as he did. You could have irrigated a small desert with all the lubrication going spare between my legs.

"I had a miscarriage recently... it's all not very long ago at all... and then two weeks later I found out that my then boyfriend had been unfaithful to me for six months..."
He listened. He asked me how far along I'd been, how I'd felt, what he'd said, if I'd been in pain; how I'd found out. And he held me in the dark and I could see his eyes focusing on me in the light filtering through my curtains, and it felt nice to be so close to someone who cared.

He explained that before his sister had his niece, it had happened to her too. And that he could understand me much better now.
Then we drifted off to sleep, and I could feel him going heavy in my arms. He sleeps like a child, quiet and soothing; not like a hog who snorts and grunts and keeps me awake.

What seemed like a short time later, he was awake again, sighing himself back to consciousness, doubtlessly prodded to life by his own erection.

He began to kiss and carress me again and I went along with it, knowing I had been as honest as I could be and safe in the fact he accepts me for who I am and what I'd been through and still wanted me, flawed or not.

And that is how it happenend. As he held my face in his hands whilst the sheet grew sticky beneath me I felt so happy I cried.

you may be tumbling, crashing, sliding, head over heels...

... but your lover is your safety net, your parachute and your guardian angel.