There’s a term for when you find someone you’re strongly sexually compatible with, someone who hits all of your kinks and fetishes: they’re your unicorn. Joker and I hit it off immediately, and when we get down to the “what are you into/ how do you get down” talk it was just fireworks and lightening. We’re both into all the things, and not into the same things. Direct line to my happy place is a heavily promiscuous man that knows what he likes and doesn’t shame others for being equally voracious in their hunt for satisfaction. We set a date to meet up and I’m on pins-and-fucking-needles counting down the hours for this magic man to come do me right. I’m semi-nervous he’s all talk, but you’ve got to roll the dice and take a chance. The worst that’ll happen is it won’t be any good, in which case he can fuck off and I’ll forget about it. Best case scenario? ALL THE ORGASMS! Did I mention yet he’s Hispanic and Italian, my two favorite things right now? Mmhmmm, yummy.

So he can’t make it to our scheduled meeting, that’s fine. Work and junk, blah blah blah. Army shit or something, I dunno. I was so bummed. He says we can make it happen the next day. That day rolls around and I don’t hear from him… then I don’t hear from him for a few days… oh fuck me, I’m being ghosted. Ghosted is the term used for “they just stopped talking to me, and disappeared.” I’m familiar with this, it’s cool. I’m just as OK with a guy telling me he’s no longer interested, moved on, etc., but I get why this method is used: it’s drama free. Me personally, provided they’re polite about it I can take rejection like a champ. I’m not hurting for potential partners, and my self esteem is on point. So I move on and don’t concern myself about seeing Joker, I don’t want to bother him if he’s not interested. Then he texts me out of the blue at like 3am, asking if I’m up…

Here’s the deal. I know what’s up when someone texts me at this hour: they went out to the bar, struck out, and since I’ve already OK’d the sexy time I’m guaranteed. This does not bode well with me. Not that I mind being a backup, because I really fucking don’t, what I mind is the being stood up part and then hit up for some hotline bling after the fact. It’s rude. I also have a strong suspicion he’s going to be a one-and-done, out the door, 5 minute jerk. I spend a few minutes contemplating this after we had texted back and forth for a few minutes, and decided I’d just ignore him. Fuck off, you’re gonna waste my god damn time. I’m not even home, I need to shower/ put on my makeup, etc., and for what? No, eff you. Then he calls… that’s a first. He wants to come give it to me, I tell him point blank this is a trap to get off quickly and then leave- and I’m not interested. He tells me he’ll spend the night, gimme all the lovin’s. Alright. Not that I believe him, but I’m prepared to berate the fuck out of this boy if he doesn’t live up to his talk and I waste a bunch of time and energy. I head home to get cleaned up from drinking at my girl’s house all night and passing out on her couch like a goddess. Hoes before bros, I wasn’t leaving her side until she was OK or asleep- my job was done, I was free to go get some mediocre dick we could laugh about later.

I make him wait a bit while I finish up my makeup and get dressed, he got to my house with little problem and a bit faster than I had really anticipated. I like to be presentable… 50’s dress, thick cat eyeliner, smelling good from head to toe, scrubbed and polished. I walk out to him in the living room and just… oof. He’s seriously good looking, and he’s got that mischievous smile I’ve grown to love with boys up to no good. We start making out, it’s passionate and aggressive- just how I like it. Yes, take it. He’s biting my lip and I can feel my downstairs instantly respond. Straight to the bedroom, I want to horizontal dance with this boy RIGHT NOW. Stripped down, he goes down on me for what can only be accurately described as forever. Truly, a great face game- clearly he’s a giver because I got off so many times and he just kept going to town like he needed to wear my vulva to breathe. His turn! I start going down on him and he is liking my head game. He tells me to flip around so he can keep pleasuring me while go to town on him- YES PLEASE! God damn he’s good with his hands. He tells me it’s time for the main event.

I get on top, which is not my favorite because I’m somewhat body-shy and I’m a bit self-conscious that I’m not very good at this position. Short Stuff has told me previously I’m great on top, but it’s a lingering feeling of inadequacy. I do like being on top because I’ve got a hair-trigger for orgasming and I can hit it faster here, so I get off more frequently. I’m doing my thing, and when I start cumming I start choking him. He’s digging it. He’s moaning, he’s clearly enjoying what I’ve got going on swiveling my hips and taking him the way that feels best for me. He tells me I’m about to make him cum with my tight lady bits. He says pussy, but I fucking hate that word in reference to my girl parts. Pussy is what you call men like my ex-husband, not something as glorious as the vagina riding you to climax. He gets off, I remove the condom and we get comfortable to hangout for a bit. He tells me I’m great on top! Hey, I’ll take it. 2 ultra slutty men tell me I do well on top, I should just listen. He tells me my oral skills are great, and I’m beaming with pride. Everybody knows fat girls give the best head.

Not to downplay the sex, but legit laying naked on my bed talking to this Soldier was the highlight of my night- holy shit, we’re meant to be friends. He’s funny, pansexual, open minded, interesting, and we have loads more in common than just kink and fetishes. He leaves in April so I need to get my sexy time in now with him; we agree to be penpals when he leaves. Do you have any idea how excellent of a penpal I am? Turns out we both do the Google Translate text to flirt method when hitting on people with second languages… high five, professional. We talk about lots of things, and he shows me the ladies he’s been getting with- they’re all amazing. I get that pang of jealousy when he shows me the transgirls he’s been tagging. I want a t-girl. They’re never into women, though. It’s bullshit. He’s into women, all women, and finds beauty in all of them individually regardless of what is typically considered attractive. He also said I’m not fat, so obviously he’s silly. I know I’m a big girl, it doesn’t hurt my feelings.

We go for round 2, starting with my 2 handed HJ- he’s digging it, I got him close to finishing. He wants to give me more orgasms; I tell him it’s fine I don’t mind getting him off with my hands/ mouth- oh no, he loves it too, he just also gets off on pleasing his lady. I tell him I want him on top this time. (I want to get taken to pound town.) He throws my legs up like Clark Kent did and just fucks me stupid, while choking me. Pretty sure I squirted… no idea, I know I got off a LOT. I tell him to get behind me, and the positioning of where we were on the bed relative to my vanity mirror I get to watch him fuck me from behind. I’m super into it, I think I’ll put some mirrors up… He finishes and we go back to talking. We ended up talking for a couple hours, while I just kept worshiping his body- I couldn’t keep my hands off him. He wasn’t cut and chiseled as he once was, but he’s perfect. He shows me pics of when he was all defined, and its pretty impressive. Adonis body. Regardless, I enjoy him just the way he is now. I like ’em thick and strong. He’s a beautiful man.

We watch some videos on our phones, and he starts dozing off- it’s time for him to trek home. He tells me to roll over so he can give me something before he leaves. I ask what it is, and he just tells me to shut up and roll over. Alright, Sergeant. He immediately starts sucking on and biting my nipples, hard. The right way, the way that doesn’t hurt but is still aggressive. My body naturally entwines around his, like an octopus. He tells me we should get another condom. I finally got to tap into my Magnum stash for this delightfully girthy man! I get on top again, since he likes how I work it. I give extra attention to the moment he climaxes so I can rock with his spasms correctly. I love pleasing my partner, it’s fun. He kisses me before he leaves, and enthusiastically agrees with my interest in seeing each other again. I’ve shown him some pics of the women I associate with that would also enjoy his company… some are even interested in doing a double-date. He tells me we’re best friends now. Haha yeah, I fucking know.  I just want everybody to get laid and have quality sex with fun partners. He fits the bill, I’ll happily share.

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DD Fnord

I left my cheating spouse September of 2015. In October of that year, I filed for divorce and set out to move on and reclaim my lost libido. I spent 8 years of my 20's faithful to two unfaithful men, I have so much time to make up for! All The Dicks is my journey having sex with whoever I want, whenever I want, however I want. The first person I spent the night with after my husband, reignited the spark and desire I thought I would need counseling to retrieve. The second person I was with sealed the deal. I wasn't broken, I just needed a tune up. This collection of encounters are the ones worth re-telling- I don't write about every sexual encounter I have, and I certainly don't bother with any that were sub-par. The screenshots are my own personal wall of shame, but also my trophies because nobody puts baby in a corner.

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