The Italian Job

At the end of February I matched with a gorgeous, much younger, Italian guy on a dating app. We met for a drink and instantly hit it off. He was charming, chatty and very intelligent. One drink turned in to several over the course of 5 hours. The conversation never faltered but I really didn't think he was attracted to me. There had been no playful arm touches or sneaky knee grabs. When last orders were called he asked if I was going to come home with him. I said I was at a 5/10 and for me to come with him he'd need to get me to 10/10. He made some remarks about me not regretting going with him. I stated that we hadn't even kissed, how could I possibly know if I wanted to have sex with him. He told me to put on my coat and that we were leaving. He grabbed my hand and started walking in the direction back to where he lived. Before we got too far I reminded him that we still hadn't kissed and I still wasn't at 10. He kissed me with such a force that my head was spinning (the rose wine had nothing to do with it!). He said "was that good enough to get you to a 10?". It most certainly was! We get back to the shared house he was living in and we enter a tiny bedroom and I see the smallest single bed. I thought to myself - WTF he really thinks I'm going to shag him in that kids size bed (he was 6ft 2in). Turned out he had the largest penis I've ever seen and 90 minutes later the best sex of my life was over. We had sex one more time before he decided to return to Italy to be with his family for lockdown. I was gutted that he left. But if he'd stayed in London I know I would have fallen hard for him, and that was never an option. We still speak every few days and we're great friends. But he will always be the best I've ever had.