**Let me preface this with a little background- I was exclusively seeing Cold War at the time when this particular stud matched a friend of mine on Tinder. He’s been on my to-do list for like 3+ months. She hit me up asking if he was one of mine, I said not YET. And I meant that. God damn did I mean that. I wanted him, but circumstances wouldn’t allow it and I also had some hang-ups about seeing him. She took him for a test drive and gave him a GLOWING review upon his departure. Also, I got a slutty snap from them after their romp. Man oh man, I love Snap Chat. Anyway, I begged her to bang this beauty for me and report back anything of interest. Had she not done so, I probably never would have hit him up for happy fun time. I was still convinced he wouldn’t please me, or that I wouldn’t be what he was looking for and thus disappoint us both.**
Alright look, so there are some days where I’m all kinds of in a bad mood and I just want to destroy someone. I’m a former professional dominatrix, but I personally identify as a switch. I don’t personally think I have a mean streak, but I do have a pretty impressive desire and execution of swift, cold justice. On days like today, I HOPE for a bad lay so I can really give it to them on the way out. (Flash back to the rude asshole who’s clothes I threw out my window and made him walk of shame the fuck out of my house naked, since he didn’t feel obligated to give me an orgasm after he finished in record time. 30 seconds is not long enough for anybody…. except you, apparently. Dick bag.) I had my eyes set on this boy for a hot minute, a few months now, but had never gotten around to it because he’s a bit submissive and I prefer dominant partners to match me. Also, he’s too pretty for words. I’m talking Abercrombie model status. Body for days, baby face, 6’3″, blond, Air Force, all the things. The problem with that is most of the time, any man that pretty the scales tip out of their favor for being good in bed. They rest on pretty, as RuPaul would say. This boy would send me pictures post-work out all ab-tastic and sweaty, and I’d discretely go slam my salmon with the big pink trident I keep by my bed. Plus, he’s 20. I’ve had some good younger-younger men, but it’s rare. (Oh man, Lt. Dangle from Reno 911 banged me on Halloween and he was 20… legit, it was amazing.) Back to my shitty mood: I was fully prepared to wreck this kid and shame him so severely he walked out with his tail tucked between his legs, and shaking. He had talked a big game before, so the shaming would have been appropriate to knock him down a few pegs. Don’t overstate your ability as a lover just to get some tail, sooner or later you’ll run into women who take zero shit from guys like that.
He shows up, and god damn… he’s so pretty. That baby face got me wondering if Chris Hansen was going to pop out from behind a door and ask me to have a seat so we can talk. No, I don’t want a cookie or any lemonade. HE TOLD ME HE WAS 20, DATELINE! I should start carding them at the door… ANYWAY, he sits on my bed while I fiddle with my hair. He doesn’t know it yet, but this is the moment you watch someone preparing to fight and they’re taking their earrings out. I’m folding my hair into two braids, one on either side of my head. This is to protect the curls, keep it from matting, and also give this poor soul something to hold on to while I blow his motherfucking mind. As soon as I’m done with my hair I throw my leg over him and straddle him. He’s already hard. I told him on the way over I might be aggressive… the lightbulb came on, he’s knows its about to go down. I start to tear his clothes off him and he mentions I wasn’t kidding. He tries to kiss me and I’m having none of it. There will be no intimacy tonight.
My clothes start coming off and he attacks my pierced nipples. Good boy, get those titties while you can. He’s giving me what I want right now; he’s big, beautiful, and enjoying me. I lean over the bed and throw lube in my hands, it’s time for him to feel my 2 handed HJ I feel I should get some kind of infamy for. The moment I start double stroking him, he tells me I know how to handle a dick. His breathing has changed. He’s writhing. I know he’s going to be quick to cum when I put my mouth on it. This is where I break my rule about blowing a man before they go down on me- usually, it’s a NO. This time, however, I was very sure I was going to get him off quickly with my mouth and I wanted to embarrass him with his own shortcoming. Or quickcumming. Whatever. I wanted him to pop extra fast. It would complete the circle of my simmering anger and give me a reasonable outlet to spit fire and venom. He’s onto my game, however. He’s not going to give me the satisfaction of a fast orgasm. (He told me later he came over with the intention to give me the best sex of my life, but the second my mouth touched his penis he knew the game had changed. I’m not hard to please, I’m hard to surprise. I get off very, very easily. If you want to go for the title of best sex ever, you have to go for the orgasm high score, chief.) He tells me to stop. He tells me I give the best damn head he’s ever had, and no girl has ever gotten him that close to cumming before…. oh, really? LET ME JUST CONTINUE, THEN. As I continue bob and twist on his knob, he asks me if I want him to cum. I shrug my shoulders. I think this is the moment he realized the extent of my depravity here- I was trying to make him be a bad hookup. Yeah, son. I’mma fuck up your ego intentionally. I keep going, and I know he’s getting real close now.
He asks what I would do if he just throws me back and starts fucking the shit out of me- the answer, my dear boy, is fight. I want to be overpowered and overthrown, like the evil cocksucking queen of peen. Let’s grapple. (I’m not actually good at wrestling, so winning is easy against me. I just like to lose, and I will not apologize for it.) He tosses me back and overtakes me very quickly. He forcefully penetrates me very hard and starts slamming with all the power of Thor’s hammer, right from the beginning. Winning. God damn those ab muscles, he can really throw some pelvis and look amazing doing it. He’s taking my legs and moving them around to different positions to optimize penetration, but he never really missed a stroke. This kid can lay pipe. I underestimated his ability. Right about now I get that tingle of regret for wanting to make him pop so quick, because I would have missed out on this and likely never invited him back over. What’s that called? Shooting yourself in the foot? Yeah. Ok so I don’t think this shit through very well when I’m in a foul mood, fuck off. He stops for a second to catch his breath and I pounce on him. He mutters something about it feeling good. Yeah, shut up and get on your back, fuckstick. I want to drive. I get on top and the very moment he’s inside me he just holds me tight and starts power-thrusting up into my god damn ribcage. I should mention here, he’s not small in the dick department. He has an above average donger and it’s an absolute joy from any angle. This one in particular he’s hitting my g-spot which makes my limbs go all jelly and gives me a goofy smile on my face when I cum. Pretty sure he laughed at it. Whatever, why so serious? I fall backwards, I can’t hold myself upright when I cum that hard. Have I mentioned yet I am obscenely loud when I fuck? Like… my neighbors have called the police on me thinking I was being murdered or abused. I was, but with a penis.
He fucked me from behind while pulling my braids, and a couple times slapped various parts of me. (Later he tells me he plays volley ball and spankings can get real very quickyly with him.) That was fun, he’s skilled in taking charge. We finished up with me on top again. He wanted to stop because he was close again, and I didn’t. He asks me if I want him to cum. I say yes. He asks me when, I say NOW. That very second he erupted into the loudest, sexiest, hottest god damn guttural and vocal orgasm I’ve been blessed to experience from a man. I love the guys who go full Cro-Magnon when they bust. I want to make him cum every way possible. All the time. I’d just blow him to get him to make those sounds again. Now comes the fun part where we hang out for a bit and get our wits about us back. I came with him, by the way. I came so hard my ears were ringing. We get cleaned up and just chill for a while. He got a kick out of my end game plan to make him cum fast, and credited me with nearly succeeding. He tells me he’s a one and done lover, as in he will not be going for round 2 tonight. This is unfortunate, but I did tell him to cum so it’s my bad. Next time though, I won’t. I’ll test that endurance all night, boy. We talk about all the next-level shit we’re going to do to each other next time. He bemoans I didn’t give him a fair chance to impress me with his skills. Legit, I didn’t. But I will. I haven’t even shown him my magic trick involving his prostate yet, I have very talented hands if you’re into that. He is. He thought my head game was stellar BEFORE I touched his p-spot. Now that I know he’s actually a fun lover, I’m going to pull out all the stops.
Life lesson. I almost missed out on some great sex because I was being an asshole. I can’t wait to do this again with him but with my head in the game to do it right. I’ll fuck your world up, son.