We continued to email each-other and message on websites. I kept every message. I saved every email. My heart leaped whenever I saw your name come up on my feed. I had surrendered to you. I was yours and I was lost. I would never return to days before I loved you. You were now the centre of my world and I would go on to lose so much of that world, as would you. The difference is that I never regretted that and would repeat my actions a thousand times over to spend my life with you. You sent me pictures from the Telford hotel room. I zoomed in on that gorgeous chest and shoulders. I would spend hours just looking at you. I sent you my pictures, just head shots at first then I became braver at your encouragement and sent pictures of me undressed. I had never done this before and was nervous but I trusted you to keep them safe. You would will me to send them and I did so just for you. My love, we became addicted to each-other. We spent every day messaging, emailing, calling. We met when-ever we could. You persuaded me to try BGHS. Oh god I was nervous. To take my clothes off in front of people. You seemed to know the place, we had a show around, but you already knew where things were and soon we were in a tiny room called a rest room. Consisting of a high single bed made of vinyl, you lay on this bed and told me to climb on with you. We made love, laughing, and clinging to each-other in case we fell off. I got down and remember with shock looking under the bed and seeing a metal grid to another room, where another man crouched down was masturbating, listening to our sex. You laughed. I think you knew that would happen. I was traumatised but intrigued and excited. The seeds were sown for us to begin exploring the sleazy side of sex. Truth be known, I only ever pursued this to please you. I wanted you and you alone. I was obsessed with you and your touch but it seemed clear to me that you needed so much more and I was determined to give you whatever you needed. We went back there many times. It became our oasis where we could find privacy and yet you could enjoy the voyeurism and being naked in a group setting. We would stand in the locker room , stripping off, you would get rock hard just at the sight of me taking my clothes off. The red towels were small, too small and my large breasts were barely covered and I had to cling to the towel to keep it in place. We would hurry upstairs not even stopping to shower. We locked the door to our favourite room, the one with the black door, and we would stand opposite each-other. You were hard with anticipation and we would just kiss. Savouring the feeling of our bodies once again entwined. We would shake darling, shake with desire, and lust and love. The sex would be frantic, my legs held up while you slammed your hard cock deep inside me. I would gush my juices out all over us. We would lay on the towels but they would be soaked by my juices. You sometimes would drag me to the side of the bed and stand up, you would hold my legs wide and slap your cock on my pussy, making me cum even more. my orgasm squirting my juices up onto your hairy body soaking your beautiful chest. We would fuck for hours, breaking for a drink then back to the room. Often that second visit would be the best with the sex less rushed , more tender but just as fulfilling. Men would knock on the door but I wasn't ready for company yet. We would lay down on that hard vinyl bed and be in our own world for hours. Not always having sex sometimes just kissing. Sometimes talking but always holding on to each-other tight. I would marvel at the light shining from above highlighting your beautiful hairy shoulders. It’s an image that lives with me forever and thrills me still. We would go to the other rooms and watch couples having sex. You often made it clear you would like to join in. You certainly enjoyed the thrill of watching. You told me about the walls and the images and how you had seen rooms like this at Chameleons and that you had been there when it was a gay club before it changed to a bi club. You laughed telling me how they had painted pictures of boobs on the men to try and make it female friendly. I began to realise that you enjoyed men as much as ladies. I began to know you. The real you. Not the fake over confident player but the insecure tender lover, who was searching for someone to understand him. To actually stop and listen and not judge. You softened and relaxed and we fell more and more in love.