Oh. Mah. Gad. Have you ever had someone talk dirty to you in Russian while you blew them? No? Hurry up and get on it. That’s the highlight of my month so far. Ok lets talk about how delightfully gigantic his arms are, because I’m going to have squishy wet dreams about those guns for a long while. Pretty sure they’re bigger than my thighs. Woof. Kinda it’s own joke he’s well armed, being Slavic and all.
We’d been on and off talking on an app for a minute, he’s funny- my funny bone is directly connected to my ham bone so I’m all kinds of into it. I didn’t really think he had that much interest in me other than some surface grade flirting, but little did I know he’s a total hound for going down. He lays it on me one day he’s been dying to dine at my Y for a while. Yes… yes, please. Munch this box all you fucking want, giant man. His pic is so hot- he looks like he might’ve actually killed people in some back alley in an Eastern European country I can’t pronounce. I’ve got the vapors, catch me. He’s told me before he’s definitely attracted to the “gelatinous mass between (my) ears” and I absolutely love how he phrased it. Stroke my ego some more! We make a plan to go to Deadpool together (yes, I’ve already seen it but I’ll watch it again a million times,) and he bemoans the unfortunate circumstances of my menstrual cycle rearing it’s ugly red head during this time. He wants to go down on me in the theater. No you may not… this time… but definitely maybe possibly in the future. Maybe. Throughout last week he “periodically” checked in to see how my flow was, hoping maybe it would magically vanish before our big date. No such luck. He tells me I’m starving him, he’s malnourished. He needs to eat me.
Shortly before I head out to pick him up for the movie he lays it on me he’s former military (Air Force, holla!) See, even if I fucking wanted to I can’t escape the tags. I’ve got a definite type. And he used to be a mechanic… my kinda man. Those hands! You know they do the business right. So I pick him up and we get to the theater JUST IN TIME for the previews. He mentioned before I arrived he’s going to kiss me- like he needs my permission or something, fuck yeah, lay those lips on me! Oh, I didn’t tell you yet how much hotter he is in person. The pics he takes of himself do not do him justice. I’mma ride that face until the end of time, or until he inevitably stops breathing and taps out. Whateva. He’s so tall… over 6 foot… and I’m so short, a stout 5’1″. He rested his arm on my shoulder as we walked into the theater… dick. We get in and get seated. He gives me some smooches and I am *loving it.* Then he takes my hands and appears to be inspecting them. He starts laughing. Look, I’ve gotten shit about having tiny hands before so I know whats up. He cackles at me “my dick is going to look so big in them later!” I blush hard and stifle my obnoxiously loud laugh as best as possible. Movie begins and we’re nice and cozy. I’m literally wrapped around his gigantic arm like I’m holding onto it for dear life. I actually don’t think I let go of it the entire movie. I will not apologize for that. He knows how much I love it, he flexed it a few times just to give me a little extra to be excited about. Boy, I’m going to fuck you stupid tonight so help me Jesus. Right after the sex scene he whispers to me “you just had to bring me to softcore porn while you’re on your period.” Shit, that’s right. The red sea doth flow. FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.
Movie ends and we head out, he doesn’t have to be back home for a few hours so I plan on getting as much out of that time as possible. (He has a curfew cuz somebody was a bad boy a while back.) We get to my house and immediately he gets on his knees, behind me, lifts up my skirt, and starts nuzzling and softly biting my buttcheeks right around the edge of my pantyline. Oooo, trouble trouble I like it like that. He actually had me hold his dick with my widdle hands just to giggle. He’s not small there, and it is comical how much bigger I can make it look. I straddle him on my couch for some not so gentle make-out time. I pull out my pierced titties and he gives me all the oral stimulation. They’re still so new, but god damn they’re worth the investment. He asks me if I use tampons or pads… weird, but OK- tampons. He joyfully exclaims then that means I’m not bloody anywhere else and he wants to eat my ass. DING DING DING, yes. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!? I drag him to the bedroom and we make-out a little bit while taking my clothes off, I ask him how he wants me and he says on all fours. He’s going to be on the floor with me on the edge of the bed. Alrighty. As soon as he starts licking my balloon knot I melt into the bed. I wish I could cum from this kind of stimulation because it’s fucking amazing. He’s getting into it, making little moans and growls as I do the same, he’s got his arms wrapped around me so I can feel those giant muscles squeezing me as I slowly wriggle and writhe with happiness. I reach back and grab his forearm, he takes my hand it puts it on his head so I grab his Jewy curls and bring him in more. He finishes up and I’m already planning on returning the oral favor. I got skills, too. Laying next to me before I gift him my glorious beej abilities, he tells me “your asshole tastes delicious, it should be served as a desert.” Um… can that be put in my obituary when I die? Thanks.
On his back I awkwardly remove his clothes (picture in your head a slutty shaved Ewok undressing Andre the Giant. You’re welcome.) I had given him some love bites and kisses on his body before he gave me the butt lovin’- I love his body. Masculine. Anyway, I throw some lube in my hands and start him out with a little 2 handed HJ to warm him up. Then I added my mouth to the equation and he was done, son. Muttering profanity and lots of reflexive writhing, I brought him to climax unexpectedly. Neither of us really expected it, but I sure as shit didn’t since he didn’t warn me. Spit, rinse, snuggle. He jokes that millions of todays youth are going down the drain. We have talked at length about my former spouse and his infidelity leading to the end of our marriage, I guess in that blissful post-orgasmic moment it struck him to mention, or rather, yell, THAT GUY IS A FUCKING IDIOT. Yes, right after getting what I assume was a very good beej, he loudly exclaimed about my ex-husband being a moron. This is actually not the first or second time this has happened, which I have to admit makes it one of my new favorite TOTALLY ORGANIC preferences. We snuggle up and talk for a while, and it’s fucking great. I am digging this giant beauty and all his baggage. His damage matches my damage, swoon! Calm down, DD. We make out for a little bit, and he starts playing with my clitoris. Oh… yes, those mechanic hands- please, by all means, make me cum a thousand times for you. He checks the dipstick and tells me I’m not even bleeding, so I tell him to get to work then. Faster than you can say shallow grave he’s hopped up like a bedroom ninja and positioned himself between my thighs. Oh that glorious mouth. When he comes up for air I tell him I love the way I taste, and I do, he playfully refuses to kiss me because he doesn’t want to lose the taste in his mouth. Swooooooon.
Snuggled up after many, many orgasms we chit chat and bond over fucked up jokes. He’s my big Ruskey love-bot. He tells me, in Russian, I have beautiful eyes. Or so he says, for all I know he was cracking jokes at my expense or reciting a banana bread recipe. Whatever, don’t care. Languages are fucking hot. I ask him if he’d like some more head, he indignantly says of course. I go down for a bit and he ends up telling me to turn around so he can enjoy me some more. Flip into a 69 he gets me off twice more before I can’t take it anymore and tell him I want sex RIGHT MEOW. This is where things go sideways. He tells me there’s a problem with that…. the problem is, he doesn’t wear condoms. And he knows that’s a problem for me because his roommate, whom I banged a week ago, told him I made him wear one and I’m a stickler. (Remember when I said if they ever tell me they don’t wear condoms I’ll make them wear one with me every single time? Bingo.) This is disastrous news for me. We are at a standstill. There’s no way I’m not going to use protection with him. He offers to go with me to a clinic and get tested together, so we can be safe about it. I comment that’s only really an effective method in monogamy. He mentions he’s monogamous, it’s his preference. SHIT, FUCK, GOD DAMN IT. FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUCK. I wants him so bad! Maybe he doesn’t like to wear rubbers because of their resemblance to radiation suits from growing up in Chernobyl. Kidding, he’s American born. First in his family. Or so he told me, who really knows whats real and what’s not when it’s coming from a straight guy about to get laid, hahaha. I took him home, he got to witness me in all my glory belting out Poor Unfortunate Souls by Ursula the sea witch from Little Mermaid. I hope he knows what he’s in for with me. Fingers crossed he’s not full of shit and I get to see him again, I wanna feed him mushrooms and go on adventures.