Short Stuff, act 2

Short Stuff himself was not a phenomenal disappointment per se. I was just not satisfied with the group action, and he was less skilled at it than he thought he was. Not too surprised, a typical cocky asshole army brat he portrayed himself in such a way that came off as GOOD at something and not just “I’ve done that.” Having watched him jackhammer Derby, I know he’s good for one-on-one time. He’s young, of course he’s going to agree to group sex and threesomes regardless of his skill level. Fill those holes, boy. No shame. He did, however, break girl code and hit me up to give Derby his number a few days later. Couple things: one, if you didn’t have the nards to give it to her when you had her literally hanging off your penis all night maybe you shouldn’t bother. Two, if she didn’t OFFER her number, or ask for yours, that’s not a good sign. Three, boy who the fuck do you think I am? Your personal wingman? Eat a dick and grow a pair. I get a hold of Derby and we talk about it, she’s not particularly interested in pursuing an ongoing sexual relationship with him for several reasons. The one that really resonated with me though, was that it would hurt my feelings to have been passed over both in the bedroom and now for the casual hookup. Fist bump, hoes before bros.

A time passes from his request and he hits me up on Tinder again- letting me know I can hit him up for one-on-one time. Oh, thank you Mr. Penis- for gracing me with permission to contact you for casual sex. BAHAHAHA Whatever, I was still debating if I’d ever see him again. I was leaning hard on the No side so I just left it be. Fast forward I get a message from him on Tinder. He tells me we should all go to the clinic to get checked out, he’s showing symptoms of something and obviously we must have given HIM something. Mmmhmmmmm Ok. I thank him graciously for the heads-up, because it takes balls to make that call or send that message. Then I joke with him maybe he should wear condoms properly and switch them out between partners, or just wear them consistently for starters. It doesn’t do much good to use condoms for a while, then take them off. Stupid boy. I knew I was safe, other than he used the same condom on me as Derby. So that was less than concerning for me. We’re adults, we get tested. I thanked him again for his concern and then reassured him we did not give him ANYTHING, and at the very least *I* did not get or give anything. Then he tells me he’s not really showing symptoms of anything, it could just be dry skin but the army takes forever to get results back from STI testing- so he figured why not give 3 women stress induced panic attacks rather than just wait to see if he’s a fucking hypochondriac. You only get a pass because you’re cute, but boy you are an asshole. We keep chatting.

I offered him some critiques on the night we shared and he was receptive. I made sure to build him up sufficiently before telling him what was not his best work, because that’s the only way to criticize a mans sexual performance. He took it like a champ! I encouraged him to go fuck all the ladies he can, but do it well. The number is less important than the quality; if you can manage both you’re worth a shit. He asks me what I’m up to, and asks if I want some company to watch a movie. Nigga we do not need to pretend you’re coming over to watch a movie with me, we’ve already done the deed and I’m becoming very open to doing it again at a later date. He persists, asking if it sounds good to have some company and kissing. God damn right that sounds good, but don’t think for a second I don’t know what you’re up to. Whatever, get your fine ass over here. You owe me, anyway.

He walks in the door and I hardly recognized him. Glasses? You wear glasses? HOT. God damn he’s fine in glasses. Your IQ score just went up 15 points and suddenly I feel like you’re less of a d-bag. I tell him he should go to the bar like that some time to pick up women, he’s got the boy next door look going for him and it’s super hot. This is where it gets weird- he just sat on my couch and hungout with me for a few hours. Like… completely unnecessary verbal interaction. The moment he walked in wearing glasses he could’ve just taken me in a manly fashion (thank you Wash from Firefly.) But no, instead he sat down and we talked. I learned some things- not only do I not know his name, and probably never will, but there’s a whole algorithm used to keep identities secret within his army unit and they keep track of it all in a notebook. Neat. He also mentioned he’s an expert manipulator and liar, so who knows what all he told me was fiction and what was truth. I find that kind of interesting. Spoiler Alert: I don’t really care about your back story, and I assume you’re a frat boy when surrounded by your army bros.  It’s cool. But the backstory he shared with me was sweet and I liked it. He portrayed himself as a very kind boy at heart, masked by an insatiable fuck-machine. Whatever you feel you need to tell me, kiddo. If that’s the true you, it’s adorable. If not, that’s fine too. You do you, boo.

Of course the conversation heads in a sexual direction; we’re both sexual creatures, we’ve previously had sex, and he’s discovering how sexually open I am. I don’t mind sharing my experiences, and I maintain a perspective on sex he’s not accustomed to. He wants to hear how I like it. He wants me to describe it in detail. He wants me to show him the position Clark Kent used on me that had me just dicknotized for a few days. (On my back, legs pinned up and over his elbows instead of the shoulders.) We demonstrate a few things on each other, continue talking. I tell him exactly how I like to get down. He stands up and says let’s go. Right now. He’s gonna give it to me the way I want it. I play hard to get- no, you said you came over for a movie. Fuck right off with that noise. He’s pulling me off the couch. I like it. I like being pursued. I like an aggressor demanding I entertain them, while also not actually physically forcing me to do anything. He played his part well, I got into. He took me back to my room and gave it to me how I like, exactly how I like, and we were sure to use protection. The only sad part was how quickly he got off. It’s slightly concerning. I was getting into it, orgasming like a fountain on a timer, and he just popped. Where’s the youthful vigor I’ve come to expect? Where’s the Olympic stamina? He gave me some line about “I’ve never cum that quickly before” and I laughed. Yeah, yeah kid. I pat his ass and say Good Boy.

He’s contacted me since and wants me to help him knock off some of his bucket list with him- sure, why not? Maybe he’ll last longer next time. He’s a good lay, the problem might just be I’m insatiable. What if there’s nothing wrong with his performance and I just can’t get enough right now? That could be true, too.

Put your glasses back on and bang me like a drum, Short Stuff.

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