Dating the Danish, finally with success

I have posted some lenghty material on Søren previously, he is a Danish millionnaire I met online in spring and several attempts of him coming to Munich to see me had failed. He said he'd come in May but cancelled on super-short notice. After that in early July and in mid-July, cancelled on both occassions again. I was beginning to feel suspicious, it seemed kinda strange that someone would cancel so often. But then....out of nothing he skyped the following in late July (again, I have not edited out Søren's spelling mistakes):

Søren: hi, i know you must have your doubts about me, but to try a poor attempt to show my intentions, I am driving to Munich, so I will be there in the early afternoon - maybe you are free maybe not..if not I will lay a red rose on your doorstep and drive off again...

And my first thought was: WTF?! As he was offline by the time I read the message, I texted him whether he was being serious and he replied:

I will call you from every city along the way to munich....it will be difficult to talk with a rose between my teeth:-)

OMG, I could have shot myself into orbit with the amount of adrenaline that surged through my body. The next day, the conversation continued on skype:

Me: you are coming tomorrow?
Him: Yes, thats the plan..I am leaving from here around midday.....I should be able to go to munich in 7-8 hours if traffic is not so bad. My helicopter is in the garage at the moment...some oil problems, so unfortunately I have to drive ;)
Me: for how long would you be staying
Him: Untill Saturday morning - was the plan...Then I will go to Dresden for a visit.
Me: well, lucky i have time on friday
Me: i mean, i dont reeally but i can make time
Him: thats great, then I dont have to bring a rose to your doorstep....
Me: yea ;) text me or call me to confirm tomorrow ok
Me: ive to run :*
Him: I will - have a nice day .. kisses

Promising, eh? So he would come on a Friday and what do I usually do on Fridays? Yes, I go to Friday beer garden (do I have to explain again what it is?) and that Friday it happened to be at the Chinese Tower, a big beergarden in the English garden. With a Chinese tower in the middle (yes, wtf). Caroline was going too, Colin ('boyfriend') fortunately wasn't. The texts started arriving in the afternoon:

Søren 1.36pm: Hamburg....driving naked

This sounded as if he really was coming this time, but since Søren had cancelled too many times before, my hopes weren't so very high and I chose a slightly modest outfit (with knickers); a smart short black dress with pink flowers, opaque Vivienne Westwood footless tights, my darling 5" platform peeptoe cut-out Oxford shoeboot Louboutins (perfect for a beergarden!), and pearls as accessories.

Me 3.30pm: How are you proceeding?
Søren 4.42pm: Not so good....i am in cew by Hannover. (yes, he meant queue, ain't that sweet)
Søren 6.42pm: kassel

All spruced up I left the house around 7pm and I must have arrived at the Chinese tower around 7.25pm. Caroline was already there, so was George (# idunnowhichone) and many others. I didn't get myself a drink because I was afraid I'd get shit-faced before it would be time to meet Søren. So I just had some of everyone else's. I was so deliriously happy. Bursting. Unbelievably. Inconceivably. And the next text made me even happier:

7.32pm: bayern

Yes! He was in Bavaria! I'd definitely see him! I bided my time figeting, smoking, running to the loo, checking and rechecking my reflection etc.

9.54pm: Okay....i am 50 km from the hotel, i will wait outside
Me 9.55pm: Text me when you arrive
9.56pm: Ok, i will send you when to go
10.35pm: I am here baby...

And off I went. Managed to snatch a taxi someone else has ordered and then had to sit through half an hour of agony, wishing the car would go faster, wishing the Marriot in Freising (near the airport) wasn't so excruciatingly far away.
After a 10 minute ordeal of meandering around the stupid one-way road web that encases the hotel we finally pulled up in front of the Marriot around 11.30pm, and I spotted a solitary figure on the terrace. He got up, waved and paced down the stairs to greet me and also pay the fare. Kissing me on my cheek he purred into my ear: "You're delicious". And I scrutinized him as well, he was quite different from the pictures he sent me, or, he was rather different from how I imagined him. We walked back to the terrace together and I saw how very slim and atheltic Søren was, and so boyish. I had imagined him to look a little older, but no, he looked quite young and achingly handsome (to be fair, he's only 38 but he looks younger than that and he's 6'1"). He wore a shirt of some kind (how bad, I forgot) and dark, thigh-hugging jeans and a golden watch of almost ridiculous magnitude. But it didn't look so ridiculous on him. On the contrary, he looked very elegant.
Outside, shrouded in a light breeze we had some prosecco and a fag or two (he smokes) and I was very nervous but Søren seemed to be quite at ease, leaning back in his chair, making casual conversation with me at first. After midnight, we went up to the room, which was reasonably nice and Søren nipped back downstairs to the bar to get a bottle of bubbly which we drank while sitting on the settee and chatting about all and sundry. He told me how he had some kind of a fetish for long hair and how as a child he'd always sleep in his mother's arms, clutching her hair. Eventually (I was getting quite uninhibited) we kissed and I offered to give him a massage. I found some lotion in the bathroom and took off my dress, as Søren had requested earlier, and straddled him as he lay in his boxers on his belly in the middle of the vast bed. Once I finished rubbing all the lotion into his smooth and muscular back I moved next to him and pressed my body against his before he rid us both of what little we were still wearing, only to reveal an already impressive hard-on (not freakishly big, not small, somewhere between medium and big but rather bigger than medium). His body was so toned and firm, almost hairless, too; and the cutest thing was a Superman logo tattoo on his shoulder, which he got in the army he said.First, he went down on me and then, firmly gripping his member, I sucked him off, carrying on with my hand when my tongue wandered down to his balls and pucker ("Do you like this?" - of course he did "No-one did this to me before" oh really). Then he knelt on the bed, I was lying on my belly with my mouth yearning for his perfect cock, and, after a few jerks with his hand, gushed a load of come in my face (all the while making the most darling moaning noises "Oooooieee").
Still hard, he pulled me towards him and thrust his cock into my sopping wet pussy and pounded me hard and fast, only pausing to switch positions, like, standing in front of the mirror (handprints all over it, hehe). I was amazed by the staccato of fucking he was able to keep up, and that was all the time, not only for a few minutes. The second time he unloaded all over my bum and as it was kinda late we went to sleep.
Søren put his arm around me and I cuddled up to him and was soon fast asleep, I was still drunk, you know.
When I woke up in the morning he was still sleeping and so gorgeous to look at, with his long dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks and that peaceful look on his face. Knowing that he had a live-in girlfriend and two children (by different women, not his current gf either) at home in Denmark almost broke my heart that moment. Sigh.
I snuggled up closer to him again and felt his cock hardening and he woke up and fucked me again but in a more slow and lazy manner. He jumped into the shower after wiping me dry of the come he shot all over me again and then I took a shower and Søren went down to reception to ask for an iron and a board. I took great pleasure in ironing his shirt for him and after he got dressed we went downstairs for some breakfast and due to Søren's tight schedule left soon afterwards.
He took me home and at one time he punched my arm, shouting "Volkswagen, Volkswagen!" I was like "WTF?" and it turned out to be some game where you punch the other person when you see a Volkswagen. How darling, how sweet - not only was he tall and handsome, as well as great in bed, really smart, witty, well-spoken, fragrant, wealthy, Scandinavian, to-die-for accent and all, but so down to earth, too. Downside: he's a big womanizer and Don Juan. Little wonder. Sigh.

Since then he made plans to come to Munich at least once but it didn't work out. But I'm happy to wait. He qualifies as 'best fuck ever'. And he did drive all the way from Denmark to Munich just to see me. "I'd walk a million miles for one of your smiles" does hold truth.