December 2011. The Gallerist has turned out to be a twice-weekly hookup, and it never gets old. The grinding and the tongue play are outstanding, but still no fucking. He’s now swallowing my loads, so the blowjobs are even better, and an added benefit is that fabulous body to play with. He’s gone so far as to re-arrange his living room in order that we can quasi-wrestle (don’t know what the flatmate thinks of that), which is kinda hot. Winner gets a blowjob, but everyone wins it seems. Better still when we're both slippery with some sweat. I am actually checking my phone in anticipation of his text, but given the season, it’s travel time and things slow down a bit.