"He isn’t my type," was my first thought when I met Alex outside the park.
He was different to the image I’d concocted in my mind, based on his dating app profile and a healthy social media stalk.
But despite that, we hit it off straight away.
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He was fun, sweet and incredibly cute. Not to mention his strawberry blonde hair and a jawline that made him look just like Prince Harry.
A very, very naughty Prince Harry.
After a walk turned into a bottle of red at the pub, we ended up back at mine for a Deliveroo.
Lying on my bed in a post-burger bliss, I suddenly felt shy.
For the first time since meeting that morning, it was like we’d run out of things to say.
But as Alex turned to face me, the sexual attraction was undeniable.
Cupping his hand around my cheek, he leaned forward and kissed me. Soft and gentle at first, before he took over.
With strong, muscular arms, Alex swept me up and just devoured me.
Paying attention to every detail, he worked every angle, getting me more and more excited to the point of climax before pushing himself into me.
He was passionate and charged, sensitive yet domineering. Moving us into positions I’d only fantasied about, he got deeper and harder, working us up into a sweat before we exploded into each other.
After that, we were soon seeing each other several nights a week.
And back again.
It was all a blur by the time the weekends rolled around, and we’d spend Saturday through to Sunday between the sheets.
Within a fortnight, we’d notched up a new record.
Seven times in under 24 hours.
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It was like we couldn’t get enough of each other.
And it was the most earth shattering sex of my life.