Did You Miss Me, Baby?
Posted on January 1, 2010Uh, no. I’d hardly had a chance to miss him. Rather, I hardly had formed an image of him in my head based on our limited encounters so that I could miss him.
We met through Craig’s List. I was hanging out with a friend in my neighbor’s place, where she was puppy sitting. The friend invited over a few of her friends, and we all hung out with some booze and music.
One of her friends was a bisexual man whom she said she’d fucked before. Soon after he arrived he sussed that I was a fun gal. Or maybe I told him how cool I think I am. Either way, he decided that he should place an ad on Craig’s List for a hot bisexual guy who’d come over to hang out with us.
The guy who arrived was cute. However, he did not appear to be bisexual. He was clearly way more into ladies than gentlemen.
Eventually we made our way to my place (back when I still lived alone). I must’ve made snacks for everyone, as I’m a good hostess. Everyone there was flirty.
Somehow our new arrival, “Larry Asshole” ["Larry" is a pseudonym, "Asshole," while not his actual last name, is nonetheless the descriptor I have for him in my phone.] and I only did any fooling around when no one else was in my place. Everyone else went out on my patio to smoke, or to the neighbor’s place for more alcohol, during which time Larry Asshole and I kissed or went in the downstairs bathroom, where I sucked his cock.
Once the whole party was together Larry Asshole pretty much ignored me. This is not how Larry Asshole got his pseudo-surname. I liked that he ignored me. It turned me on, and he knew it. It turned me on to see him flirting with and cuddling up to another woman at the small gathering. The other woman I thought was cute, but I didn’t particularly want to fuck her.
Eventually everyone left. Larry Asshole stayed. By this time I’d been plenty teased and wanted to suck his cock more, but not in the confines of the bathroom. I sucked his cock on the couch.
It was during that time that I began to think he was kind of cheesy. He actually said, “You really don’t have a boyfriend?” He implied that my cocksucking skills were such that I should have a boyfriend. I made it clear that I didn’t have a boyfriend and I didn’t want one.
We went to my bedroom and fucked. He took liberties when he reached up whilst we were fucking and circled my throat with his hands. It was welcome, for sure, but he didn’t know that. He didn’t know that I wouldn’t freak out. He didn’t know that a safe word would have been appropriate. Or if he did know he didn’t ask me.
Nonetheless, I found it hot. The next time he called I had him over again to fuck me. And the next time. Then my living situation changed and he called with very little notice so I had to turn him down the next couple of times he called looking for a fuck. The periods between calls became longer and he certainly never offered to take me out – he never even brought me anything like a bottle of wine. This is how he got the surname “Asshole.” No wonder I was loath to have him over again; the sex was decent enough, but it wasn’t so good that I didn’t at least want some wine and a bit of conversation.
He came over today. He woke me up when he called and I realized that 1) I had the place to myself and 2) I’d not been fucked since the new year. He arrived within fifteen minutes. And he left less than twenty minutes after that.
The sex was decent. I like sucking his cock, I do. And it felt good to have him fuck me from behind – my favorite position – but everything had a rushed quality to it.
I want to have nice slow sex where I can take my time sucking cock and where I can get fucked and fucked and fucked and fucked and fucked some more.
Today, as soon as we got to the bedroom he asked me if I missed him. My thought was, “No, I didn’t fucking miss you; I don’t even like you,” but instead of saying that I put his cock in my mouth. Whereupon he proceeded to ask me a series of questions about whether I liked to suck his cock, if I liked him playing with my pussy, and, yes, whether I missed him.
Finally I told him that he was acting like a dentist, asking me questions I couldn’t answer with my mouth full. I asked him if he wanted me to answer his questions or suck his dick. He chose the latter.
He came on my face. Sort of. There was very little come, and I’m convinced that he had already masturbated in the morning.
As he walked out he said he’d see me later. “No, you probably won’t,” I said.
I swear. True story.
Tags: booze, D/s, disaster, sexy?, yummy cock
Categories: True Story.
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10.01.2010 17:46