WARNING: The characters and situations of this story is very real, any resemblance to existing persons or situations is absolutely not a coincidence.
Francis had Scandinavian ancestors, but nothing in common with them. He was true to say that the fairness of his ancestors. Hating the blind dates, I still agreed to meet him. He had to go for a drink and some appetizers at my house before we went out to see a musical. Francis was a young hungry wolf. I was eating the eyes even before his fingers had touched my skin. I wanted to settle in the living room to talk, the tame, knowing him, but he literally jumped over me, biting and licking every inch of bare skin sticking out of my clothes. I did not understand his anger, which usually belongs to lovers eager one other. I had not even had time to ask me if I wanted her fingers rubbed my cock already. I tried to slow the pace, but after a few minutes he began to be frantic.
He kissed me hard. With great blows of kidneys with a look of fire, biting my lips, pulling on my tongue piercing. He spoke vulgarly taking my thighs open as if a crowd was watching her sex penetrate me. I was in the middle of a performance. Something he indulged himself more than me. The sex was particularly intense, but without soul, without any complicity. I never returned his calls.
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