I finally bagged an active duty Marine! I have a strict tag and release program, but this was trophy worthy because god damn these slippery sons-a-bitches are hard to find up here. I met him on MeetMe, and we had casual conversation from the beginning. So he’s like 23, 6 foot, thick like I like ’em, and not an asshole. Also, super god damn attractive! Who knew Marines came in flavors other than asshole? Raise your hand if you’re surprised. What do they call it when they pick up fat chicks? Going hogging? I’ll take it, I give zero fucks about that nonsense, gimme yo peen and go away! Let’s start off with this mother fucker’s job is recon and he gave me the wrong god damn meet-up place to rendezvous and convoy back to my house. Everybody take a second and laugh. Like, he’s sitting in the parking lot and told me the wrong place. Fool, I got up at 6 o’clock in the god damn morning for you- do not tempt me to turn this rape into a murder. I’m on 3 hours of sleep, showered, makeup, and a belly full of coffee. I meet him just before 8 and we drive to my house with him following me. I, of course, am jamming the fuck out in my car as per usual. I do some fierce car karaoke. He’s meeting me before work so he’s in full uniform, delightful. You know my thing about uniforms. LET ME TAKE IT OFF YOU, BIG GUY! We get to my house and take a potty break before the main event. He’s told me to prepare myself for his performance, so I stocked up on Gatorade and Ibuprofen. That’s not a joke, I know how to get down like a professional. I’m like a whore, but I get paid in inches and orgasms! Oh, also I only fuck attractive men of my choosing- so there’s a big difference.
He puts on his jacket to complete the ensemble and I am just… sploosh. I’m on my knees on my bed, and I’m about head level with him. I’m short as fuck. We start making out and I am *loving* it. Gimme, gimme, gimme! I unbutton his jacket and we keep with the heavy petting and make out. He takes my shirt off and expertly removes my bra one handed, within like 2 seconds. Just… bam! Tiddays! He sucks on my nipple rings and I am getting so wet you could drown in my panties. I get him naked and decide to go down on him. He’s mentioned before he expects 4 orgasms out of our encounter. You got it, let’s shoot for 6! He’s not making any sound while I go down on him so I’m concerned it’s not his cup of tea. He tells me to let him eat my lady parts while I’m blowing him. Done, son. Flip around for face sits and I go back to work. My hood piercing is just… I have no words. I love this stupid little thing! He had to remind me to use my hand while I’m doing my thing because I was getting caught up in enjoying his face game. Sorry, bruh! Now it’s bang-bang time. He wanted to bring his own condoms which I wasn’t against, but considering I basically own stock in Trojan at this point I am fully prepared. Legit I have an arsenal of various types and sizes. He requests thinner. Ok, no problem at all. Before we met he insisted I put the condom on him with my mouth- I’m not too terrible at that so I go for it. I got it half way? He’s a thick boy in all the right places. Thick dicks are worth more than long dicks. Go ahead and be proud of your 9 inches, 2 of which will never be used, I’m gonna go ahead and enjoy a man of average length that’s too thick for a normal condom. Bruh.
He gets on top and goes at it. We ran into a slight (read: huge) problem where he was having difficulty keeping fully hard because the condoms were either too tight, or not thin enough. He laments he should have brought his, because they work better for him. I may or may not have freaked him out last night when I joked I was going to poke holes in all my rubbers, to trap him and get that sweet BAH. That’s apparently not a funny joke to some enlisted men. Whatever, I can get off with a thumbtack so just keep doing your best. He fucked me solid for 2 hours. TWO. MOTHERFUCKING. HOURS. The good kind of fucking, too. Like, throwing my legs up and just PLOWING like I’m his families farm and winter is coming. GIVE IT TO ME! We flip around to different positions but with his erectile malfunction missionary was the best bet. Plus, he seemed to like it. I love me some missionary with a big guy. All that weight on top of me, fold me into a god damn pretzel and just fuck me stupid. At one point while he’s struggling putting a condom on his half-rope, he tells me it’s like putting a plastic bag over his grandmother’s head. WHAT. What did you just say? I’m dying. New favorite! Funny dudes are where it’s at!!! I like putting my quivering, shaking legs up on him so he can feel it. I’ll squeeze the life out if you. We went through half a dozen condoms in total, abandoned on the condom graveyard, also known as the area surrounding my bed. I blow him a few times inbetween new positions so he can catch a break from doing all the work. Plus, I like doing it. He’s giving it to me the way I like, he deserves my glorious mouth.
More than once I asked him if he needed a break, he says no. He asks if I’m tapping out or if I’m tired. NOPE. Kiddo, I will fuck you until you literally die from exhaustion. He tells me he’s not done because the job isn’t done yet. Oh… oh yes. Get it. Two or three times as I’m literally shaking while I’m cumming my brains out, he whispers to me “you better keep cumming.” YES, SIR. He’s not a very vocal partner- in fact he’s mostly silent. This is bothersome for me but I’m actually getting off so hard and so frequently I don’t even have the capability of paying attention to his enjoyment. While he’s fucking me from behind I’m watching him in the mirror on my vanity. I think I caught him watching too, but I wasn’t wearing my glasses so… I can’t see a damn thing. I turn back and watch his face while he’s fucking me and I am just loving it. Do work, boy! And he did. I gift him my mouth one more time and he cums unexpectedly. For me, because he didn’t say anything. It’s fine, I already gave him the green light to do so beforehand. I ask him if it was alright, he tells me it’s the best oral sex he’s ever had and no girl before me has ever gotten him to finish like that. SCORE. I’m telling you, I have a special set of skills. We hang out naked for a bit and talk while he enjoys the after effects of his orgasm. Too bad I couldn’t give him more than one, but I plan to next time for sure. I ask if we’re done now, he says for now. SEE, HE TAPPED OUT FIRST. They always tap out first. Apparently I hadn’t told him about my blog so that came up and had to be explained. Woops! He doesn’t really read profiles, he says, after I tell him the link is posted. I’m not surprised, I’d be shocked if he could read. Kidding! He’s not actually stupid, I just love stereotypes. He’s interested in reading it, and I told him he’s definitely going to be featured. I ask him what name he wants me to use. He has no suggestion, so I say Private Gomer Pile. He’s big, quiet, and assumedly dumb- but gentle and not scary. I had no qualms about this giant man all up in my house. He’s not a fan of the name. Fine, I like you enough to not call you something you hate. Full Metal Jacket it is.
So he reads a bit of my blog and digs it. He thinks I’m funny. We talk about my lifestyle a bit and he’s JEALOUS. As well he, and anybody else, should be. I love my fucking life. He asks if it’s weird he wants to play video games after our marathon sexual escapade. Weird? Nigga those are magic fucking words to me. Let’s get our Halo on. If my life could just be getting awesomely laid by handsome young studs, and video games, all day… my life would be complete. So he dresses in his civilian clothes, we camp out on my couch and mob on some Halo 4 together. At one point he offhandedly says something kind of rude, and he profusely apologized for it even after I told him I didn’t really care. That’s now how he wants to treat people, and he’s not an asshole. Thanks, champ! Motherfucker actually insisted on driving the Warthog because I “drive like a maniac.” He is of the belief he’s better at the game than me, but lets not forget he’s a failure at his job in real life by giving me the wrong waypoint, and a failure in his military branch for not pounding me into the bed with a fully erect semen rod. (Don’t send me hate mail, we were joking about this together. Tee-hee-hee, he thinks it’s funny too.) You bring shame upon your famiry! We play together for an hour and a half, and it’s time for him to go to work. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! We hug, kiss, and he scampers off with his nuts empty and a pat on the back he did a good job.
I leave to go pick up a gay friend I haven’t seen in a long ass time, so I can belt out some Whitney Houston to him. As I’m waiting for said friend, Full Metal Jacket texts me to tell me I turned out to be an awesome person and we can be actual friends. Hooray! I’m gonna fuck you again regardless of friendship status. He mentions the only thing that could have been better is if we’d had food while gaming. I tell him that’s a no brainer and I’ll cook next time. Then we ended up challenging each other’s cooking skills and I’m living for the thought of embarrassing him in the kitchen. I will own you, I am the Iron Chef. This cocky motherfucker actually told me I’d get Chopped the first round… well, you can’t pronounce the ingredients Mr. Neanderthal! How about that. That caveman thing is kind of sexy.
So… looks like I have a morning sex, food, and gaming partner. I win at life.