This 23 year old Hispanic boy has been chatting me up for about a week, he’s been nothing but polite, sweet, and respectful. Clearly he gets how this whole “talking to women” thing works, because I definitely want him. He’s got this boy next door face, and the charm to boot… but when the shirt comes off he’s all kinds of masculine and strapping. He lifts. He lifts like a motherfucker. His arms are strong and defined, he shoulders are broad, his torso is tight. He’s got one of the most beautiful backs I’ve ever laid eyes on. Oh yes… yes, please. Throughout our texting he sends me shirtless selfies multiple times a day, every day- he’s loving the attention I give him for being so attractive. I love him showing off, I could look at that body every day for the rest of my life and never get bored- and he’s never pushy or overly sexual with me. He already knows I want him, and he wants me, so why spoil it? He just keeps talking to me like a normal human being and I’m eating it up. We compliment each other and appreciate each other’s respective attractive features. I can dig this kind of casual flirty goodness. I especially love when he sends me post-lift selfies, all sweaty and ripped up. So delightful! He tells me I’m beautiful every day. Swoon! He knows about my blog and isn’t phased by my lifestyle in the slightest.
The last day or so of our chatting he suggests he’s well hung and slowly but surely his selfies start involving visible erections under his clothes. I’m not a fan of dick pics, they’re deceptive at best 90% of the time and on top of that I just don’t really want to see dicks. They all basically look the same when it counts. Clearly he wants me to see it, but they always want me to see it. I don’t want to see it. I don’t care. I’m not a size queen, some of the best sex I’ve EVER had was with men on the smaller end of the spectrum because they worked so much harder to get me mine. Some of the worst sex I’ve ever had was with well hung men who just rested on their inches being good enough to satisfy, and never really learning how to wield it. Big dicks do not equal good sex by default, remember that. Finally he springs it on me in all its glory and I have to admit I was NOT prepared. That’s a big boy. I tell him I’m not really sure it’s gonna work out and he immediately calls me to talk about it. I don’t know why I find that so sweet, but it is. He expresses that he’ll be gentle if I want; he’ll do whatever I want to get mine comfortably and happily. His nice guy personality is shining here- clearly he’s run into this hurdle before. Later he sends me another shot of it and I can tell he’s uncut- surprise! I mention it in text and he straight away goes on the defensive that he’s hygienic, and asks if it’s a deal breaker. No, no, sweet boy. Definitely not. I’m not going to lie, I used to be that girl- but one of the benefits of this journey I’m on of All The Dicks is I gained an appreciation of foreskin. Consider me a convert. I instantly feel a pang of regret that I was one of those women he’s experienced in his life that shot him down over something so arbitrary.
Our plan was to meet up over the weekend, but I found some free-time during the week to go to a free comedy show with a girl friend. I invited this kid out, since he doesn’t really get out much. Besides, I want to meet him in person and see if this whole nice-guy thing is a total act. I pull into the parking lot and he spots me, walks over to the car to greet me when I get out. As soon as I get out he grabs me up and kisses me against my car. He puts my hands on his penis which I can feel is hard and literally bent in half in his pants. Sweet Christ I found the Lock Ness Monster. He’s excited to see me, clearly. Good news, I’m very excited to take him to a comedy show. As we’re walking into the bar he asks if I have any plans after the show because he doesn’t… and he’d like to give me some attention tonight. True story, I had not planned on taking him home on this night and had been chatting up another man earlier about the possibility of meeting up- but he struck out. I tell him my night is free. He asks about the next morning/ day… I tell him I have obligations starting at 8am, so I can’t be up ALL night and we can’t spend the next day in bed rolling around being Hedonistic. I feel like I should have really taken those questions seriously, but I’m used to men talking a big game about being able to go all night and it being closer to an hour, tops. Besides, he’s 23 and kind of socially awkward- what are the chances, am I right? FYI, remember that thing about nerds being super good in bed? He’s wearing a DragonBall Z shirt. I’m just gonna let you draw your own conclusions.
As soon as we get seated he discretely puts my hand on his hard-on, he wants me to hold it while we watch the performance. I can’t help but feel amused at his brass balls regarding PDA and touching. He casually whispers to me if we were sitting in the back, there would have been a lot more going on for both of us. Holy crap, this kid is serious. We maintain normal contact during the show and when it ends we head out for home; he tells me he needs to pick up something to eat so I just text him my address. He shows up shortly after I do and joins me on my loveseat, but not three seconds later he pounces and starts aggressively kissing and touching me. It’s go time and we’re both primed and ready. He gets down on his knees and takes off my panties, throws my legs up and gives me some face- I’m digging it, he’s doing his thing, but I cannot get comfortable on a couch for this kind of activity. I’m too old and it’s just not a comfortable couch to begin with. So we head to the bedroom. He goes down for a bit but its pretty unnecessary, I’m definitely feeling this boy and I want him NOW. He has a slight curvature to his shaft, downward. I’ve had curved before, but not that direction. How different could it be, right? Oh. Man.
Why is he called T-1000? Because he’s a god damn machine. This beautiful boy plowed me like a field mule for HOURS. His size, curvature, technique, rhythm… it was kind of mind blowing. And he dirty talks like a champ. I had no idea that this perfectly sweet boy could be so aggressive and dominant. He’s literally pinning my wrists, moving me any way he wants, flipping me around and over at his whim. He threw me backwards from cowgirl to missionary with what appeared to be zero effort… and I’m not small. He’s magnificently strong and powerful, but not threatening or scary. I like his style. He’s definitely demonstrating he’s in control, he’s in charge, but simultaneously confirming he’s all about what gets me off. He’s read what I’m into and he’s giving it to me how I like it. Several times previously in text he mentioned he derives the most pleasure from sex from bringing his lady to climax multiple times, and he is also capable of multiple orgasms. This is very exciting for me because I love to get my partner off too- and if he can get more than one or two in a night, I want to go for the gold. However… I had not anticipated Nessy punching my cervix all the way to fucking Egypt and I can tell I can’t give him what I want to in return tonight; I truly have to sleep at some point, we can’t be up ALL NIGHT just banging away like a tin can wind chime on Tornado Alley. He doesn’t get off easily or quickly, how am I supposed to give him his!? I had to tap out a couple times for breaks, and he apparently needed to pound protein drinks (this is hilarious because he talks about protein intake and fitness related dietary stuff a lot… and clearly what he’s doing is working. I swear this kid is a machine.) He finally gets off and it’s like 1:00am, IT IS TIME FOR BED, SIR.
Here’s the time I expected him to put his clothes on and hit the bricks… but he’s just kind of dicking around naked and not really getting a move on. Then he climbs back in bed with me. I ask if he’s spending the night, and he exclaims of course! Oh, you dear sweet boy. He pulls me up to him, he wants us facing so we can keep kissing and touching and snuggling. This is my everything; he’s so intimate. Even after barking at me for hours to take his big cock, he wants to hold me and pet me and kiss me. Ugh those protruding ab muscles and his perfect arms, I want to be wrapped up in his strength until the end of time. He tells me he can’t wait to see me again this weekend (hooray, we’re gonna see each other again!) I promptly pass the fuck out rolled up with beautiful man, probably drooling all over him. Not even sorry, that dick put me into a god damn coma. That in itself is impressive because I have chronic insomnia and the only thing that puts my lights out is good sex or booze. His code name is Nyquil. Somewhere around 3 or 4 am I am awoken by him on top of me and penetrating me; as soon as I’m visibly semi-conscious he goes right back into dirty talking that he couldn’t wait to give it to me again. I am more than receptive to this. I ask if he remembered the condom, he confirms, then goes right into slamming it home; I’m on my stomach, which allows for deeper dicking- he’s definitely pushing my limits of how much I can take in inches. I’ve been getting off steadily all night, he apparently has been keeping count… it’s impressive, even with my history. We finish up and I pass right back out, telling him no more I really need to sleep god damn it.
My alarm goes off at 7 and I snoozed it. I must’ve been out before I even hit the pillow. T-1000, however, saw this as the *perfect* opportunity to pounce on me again and I was ONCE AGAIN woken up being penetrated by this young stud. This session was much more brief, but he got off so I feel accomplished. In fact he apparently got off twice in the condom. Ugh, men who have multiple orgasms are my favorite. I ask him what my count is for orgasms, he says 25. I remember squirting more than once… he says 5 times. I dunno… I’m thinking 3. But, whatever, who knows. I’m deeply dehydrated and delirious from penis all night. He informs me he wants to see me frequently and all the other men in my immediate interest can have me when he’s not available. HOW IS THIS MY LIFE!? I must have the best karma. As soon as we part ways in the morning he texts me he’s happy I had a good time, and the weekend can’t come soon enough for us to go another few dozen rounds. He’s gonna be an ibuprofen kind of guy.