Sweet Christ on a pogo-stick this man is gorgeous. Body for days. Why did I ever settle for less, those abs were so hard I could wash my laundry on them. I’m talking CUT. We met on Tinder, he’s 25, a lovely shade of butter pecan (I’m really digging the forever tan of Hispanics,) and intelligent to boot. Has a smarty-pants job in a big industry. He’s been trying to come over for a hot minute but I’ve been busy, as is normal this time of year. If I’m not off with my friends trying to find new and inventive ways to disappoint my family, I’m hungover and recovering from previously mentioned activities.
I have had a slew of bad hookups lately, the kind of failures I was actually tempted to write about. You know I ain’t about that life, but I got real, real close. You ever have a lay so bad you wonder if you’re the problem? I had to call previous hookups and get that reassuring pat on the back that no, I’m not the problem when someone is a selfish asshole. Moment of weakness! Shhh, don’t tell anybody. With my time being even more restricted than usual due to a full dance card, it’s becoming harder and harder to find the time to get the orgasms I so richly deserve. But tonight I made it happen, or rather he did. He’s persistent without being pushy. Upon his arrival I am just unsure how to proceed- that tight body, good looking face, and charming personality… it was questionable if he was going to be into me. That’s where I’m at now, apparently. A quivering husk of my former confidence. KIDDING, I couldn’t wait to tear his clothes off with my teeth and make him scream my name in that alluring accent. Even when I’m feeling a little insecure, you put a beautiful man in front of me that wants to get down to business, I’m right back to owning my sexuality.
He sits down and we hang out for a bit. This is now going to be the requirement for any hookup. I have been skipping this step in my eagerness to get off, and like any other form of foreplay it’s in fact necessary. Chemistry must be established. You can tell within five minutes of talking to someone if there’s a bit of something you want, and they want it too. I have, previously, turned lovers away for failing the oral exam at this point. I should get back to doing that. No chemistry means no good sex, every time. I know this. I fucking know it. I’m impatient and I got cocky. Lesson learned, I need to take my time and enjoy the process. As we’re talking I can see his eyes dart to my lips more than a few times. I know he’s going to make the move and kiss me. The tension is building. He asks about my piercings and seems very interested, especially when I mention the one I have planned next: my taint. Yeah, I’m getting my grundle pierced. Have you never heard it called that before? You’re welcome. We chit-chat about work things, places we’ve traveled, things we want to do. Definitely an interesting person, and not a douche bag. Hooray!
He makes the move, leaning in for a kiss. It’s wonderful. I love making out before the main event! Moving his hands across my body he lifts up my shirt and bra, so he can play with and suck on my nipple ring. Oh, oh yes. Get at it. He wants more access, it’s time to move from the insanely uncomfortable couch I haven’t set on fire in the street yet. No really, this god damn thing is such a literal pain in my ass I demanded my husband take it in the divorce. It’s still here, mocking me. As soon as I hit my room I throw off my shirt, I don’t need it anymore. He takes his off and I just… WHAT. What the absolute shit are you doing here with me you Colombian Ken doll. This man should be banging every yoga instructor he can get his big brown hands on. Expertly he removes my bra and goes to work on the girls, I am *living* for it. Repositioning himself he makes moves to play with my downstairs, so I get up and remove the rest of my inhibitions. I mean clothes. I tell him he should get naked, too- which he promptly does. Back together on our sides he has found my hood piercing with his hands. I want him to look at it. He agrees it’s neat. God damn right it’s neat! I need to take a moment here and chuckle. Even with it pierced, you would be SHOCKED how many men cannot “find” the clitoris with their hand. Like… there’s a 12 gauge bar of steel through it, why are you rubbing my pubic bone or my urethra? The vulva is not Braille, I promise. You can actually see our anatomy very clearly if you know what you’re looking at.
So he’s rubbing my fun button and segues right into fingers inside me, with some force. Oh man, I haven’t had a good finger blasting in a WHILE. Lemme ride yo knuckles, boy! He gets me where I need to be and I push him backwards. Lay back, I’ve got a surprise for you. Lube in my hands I tell him I have magic trick. The moment I start my slippery double stroke I see him make the face. Yeah, you weren’t expecting that to feel so good were you. Best HJ you’ll ever get. I teach a god damn class on how to give head and manipulate a penis with your hands, don’t doubt this old bitch has skills. He’s clearly going to cum if I don’t stop, so he asks me if I want to fuck first. Uh, yeah? He brought condoms! Good, good, good boy. I shouldn’t say boy, he’s all man. Not the biggest in the dick department, but I am already very confident he knows how to use it. He puts the condom on and gets on top, putting my legs in various positions to maximize penetration and thrust. Plow me, field hand! (I shouldn’t make jokes like that, he probably makes considerably more than I do… I’m about to start selling oranges by the freeway if I don’t pick up a better gig here soon. I’m not asking for much, just something that pays better than blowing Mexicans behind Lowes- I know they say to do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life, but blow jobs are still jobs. I prefer it as a hobby.)
Down to business it’s short and sweet. We didn’t try any positions, but I’m ok with that. I have plans to show him more next time; we came at the same time and it was quite nice. I needed this to reboot my desire. The bad lays lately really put a damper on my want to get laid at all. Seeing the error in my screening process, I think I’ll have much better luck now. We hang out a bit afterward and agree there has to be interest in getting the lady off for sex to be truly beneficial for both parties. He said it himself “if you don’t care if she’s getting off, just go masturbate.” YES. SAY IT LOUDER FOR THOSE IN THE BACK. He asks me when I’m free again- for you, any time! I wish. I’m fucking busy. But I will gladly see him again and maybe I’ll show him what my mouth can do if he feels obliged to do the same for me. While we’re talking I’m just touching his abs and feeling how tight and hard his body is. I ask how many hours a day he puts in at the gym to achieve this- apparently, 2. Once in the morning, and once in the afternoon. And he runs marathons apparently.
I ask him why he’s picking up fat girls on Tinder and he tells me “something new.” Yeah yeah, less work. I know what’s up. He did mention I was only his second fat girl, and I was fun. I’ll take it. I’ll take every inch of it. See you soon, lover pants!