I am currently trying to work through some writer’s block to the best of my ability. Also I may be dying of dehydration after that tsunami of orgasms this 19-year-old brought down upon me for several hours. I’m fucking exhausted and my vagina has been battered shut. I’m not exactly sure what lab made this kid, but they deserve more funding. Duplicate these results, and I’ll take 3 when we clone him. Why 3? Mind ya business, Susan.
First things first, he hits me up for sexy fun time and I basically said fuck-all to anything else I might have going on. Maybe I’ve been kinda thirsty for him since our last encounter rocked my world… be my glass of water, young lad. Of course, he needs a ride. God damn it. I really don’t fucking do this. The shopping center near the base is so fucking far from me, to pick him up. Like last time. FINE. I’ll deal with it. Then, he asks me to get him a 6-pack. You motherfucker. JUST ASK ME TO BUY YOU ALCOHOL, DON’T LURE ME WITH SEX! He offers to “repay” the favor and I start seeing red. No. No, no, no. Go fuck ya self. You’re fucking me regardless, and you’re paying me back. Glad we cleared that up, buttercup. 🙂 This whole interaction happened after I ran stairs with QuarterRican because I want her Latin booty and apparently stairs is the secret. Everything about working out sucks, except lifting weights. So, I’m spent and my legs are jelly… but I’m definitely looking to be taken to pound town. I drive to the place and he hops in.
I don’t even remember the drive home. So distracted. Why is he wearing sweat pants? God I hate when they do that. Put on real clothes, bum! Or just wear your uniform you hate so much, because I love it. I probably actually spent the majority of the drive to my house thinking about his uniform, and how I needed to get over not being able to tear it off him. I’m gonna steal your hat… moving on. My house, he asks if we want to chill on the couch or my bed. Shut up and get on my bed; I fucking hate that lumpy piece of shit in my living room (but it’s family now so I can’t get rid of it,) plus he needs to experience the $280 investment I made making my bed the most comfortable thing on the planet. You won’t be able to leave. Once he hops on, he totally gets it. This is the one bed to rule them all. You sink down into fluffy cloud, and then you’re cuddled by firm memory foam. My bed hugs you. He’s drinking his beers and we’re chatting. I had completely forgotten how much more I liked him on a personal level when I drove him back home the last time. Enjoyable. He took his shirt off as I’m sure a way to signal his interest to horizontal monster mash, but I ignored it. Either make a move, or say something. I’m feeling feisty. Finally he mentions we should get to getting because my bed is going to make him fall asleep. Ya, ok. FINE, I’LL JUST DO THE THING.
One, two, pounce! I’m straddling him with my tits in his face. He does this thing when he’s getting excited: he growls. In less than a second he goes from this funny, teenager I’m seducing… to an adult fuck machine that’s about to tear me up. The deep, primal part of my brain registers that sound, signals my downstairs to flood, and the base of my spine tingles. It’s go time. He’s pawing at my clothes to get to my tits, so I take my top and bra off. Nipple rings in his mouth, he’s hard as a rock under me while grabbing at me and sucking on my fun bags. Now he’s grabbing at my ass and pulling my skirt up, time to lose that too. So now I’m mostly naked and he’s mostly clothed… don’t mind me, I’m just going to remove everything but your socks. I’m getting over the sock thing. I hate when the man is naked, except the socks. This isn’t a porn, take your everything off! I decide I want to give him my 2 handed HJ, because I like the way he squirms. His breathing changes, his hands are gripping the bedding with white knuckles. Yes. TAKE IT. He tells me I won’t get him off this way, like it’s a challenge. Our two previous encounters, his first round is fast. I’d rather just knock it out now. I throw my mouth on him to push him over the edge. His hands find their way into my hair, gripping down to the scalp- he pulls my head aside and tells me it’s my turn. Uh… yes? Moving quickly he positions himself between my thighs and flicks his tongue on my clit a bit. Diggin’ it. But wait, there’s more!
His hands. How did I forget how he fucks my whole world up with his hands. The second he starts his 2 finger death punch to my lady business, it’s over. Was I screaming? I literally came so hard, so fast, my ears were ringing. I was already backed up on the headboard just right so no crab walking this time. He wants a condom now. I’m kind of in a haze coming down off that climax and rush of endorphins, but I manage to fish one out of the treasure trove next to my hump palace. If I thought he punched me hard with his fingers, I was unprepared for the slamfest he brought our pelvises. Jesus, kid- why are you so angry at my vagina? Don’t stop what you’re doing, but maybe talk to somebody. I am convinced he will cum very fast, all this build up and now the big show of him hammering into me almost maliciously. This is where I mention, he’s not exceptionally well endowed. He works with what he’s got to the best of his ability, and it’s honestly considerably better than most bigger-dicks that cause discomfort. I don’t really keep track anyway, but it was at this juncture I lost count of my orgasms. Once I hit 5, I don’t give a shit anymore. Smooth sailing for me. He collapses backwards, exhausted. I take a minute to let the body shakes die down before I get on top, I am not done. The problem here is when I’m on top, my g-spot is pretty much guaranteed to be hit just right. This is my retard button. I’m trying to ride and cum at the same time, but my brain and body are not communicating effectively. I get a few more in before I just can’t coordinate myself. I flop over. He didn’t finish… I want to care, but I don’t. I’m not spent. We could have stopped here and I would have probably been alright with it. But we didn’t. We breathe for a few minutes, I’m flooded with happy chemicals in my brain so I’m basically writhing like an octopus. He tells me break time is over and climbs on top again. Where does this energy come from!? Pretty sure I yelled his name as my whole body reacted to my orgasm. He falls back, he’s tapping out. Spent, but still no orgasm.
Tossing the condom to the graveyard, he asks where my toys are. Excuse me? But… oh. OH. OMG IT’S ALL FOR MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. I hope I contained my pure, unadulterated enthusiasm at this revelation. He gets out the tried-and-true trident of bliss, Pusseidon. He slips it in, plays with the controls a bit, strokes gently a few times, then pushes it in to the hilt right where I start to feel my eyes roll back. That’s the spot, noted. From that moment on it was a blur of aggressively vibe-fucking, rolling orgasms, and squirting. By blur I mean he stopped when I came, gave me a short break, then started up again. When his arm became tired, he would ask if I wanted more. I always said yes. I’m not done until I’m passing out, completely spent. As long as there is water in my body, I can keep cumming. (Just writing those last few sentences reminded me to switch my comforter to the dryer.) He wants to play with other toys. I don’t care. Fuck me with everything in the house. Don’t. Stop. Now. He’s becoming more and more vocal in his demands while I’m being tormented with deeply satisfying orgasms- he wants me to tell him when I’m cumming. He wants me to not bury my face when my volume rises. He wants me to let go and shake the fucking rafters. This is all for me. But also for him. I’m on my back for most of this shenanigans. Change up, new toy. I have several dildos under my bed readily available, they just need rinsed off because of direct contact to my floor. He marveled, momentarily, at my glass butt plug. He wants to use it on me. No, not tonight. We didn’t plan for this. I need to not get too excited about anal stimulation, because I’ll skip all the prep that goes into making it enjoyable. Don’t jump the gun with anal. Just don’t. Taking the dildo of choice to the master bath to rinse it off, it suddenly becomes too real that he’s handling a disembodied dick bigger than his. Washing it feels gay. You think that’s gay, wait until you’re stroking lube all over it.
I was right, that felt way gayer. But he’s giggling at the absurdity of this moment. Looks like he’s pretty comfortable handling someone else’s dick. Look, I’m not saying all stereotypes about the Air Force are real… just pointing out an observation. I’m kidding, this kid fucked me with toys, his hand, his mouth, and his dick- for hours. He’s a professional at pleasing women. I was particularly thrilled with his exclamation I’m just fun to fuck, even if it’s not with his dick. He loved getting me off over, and over, and over, and over. The sweat and cum on my bedding was discernible in stains of great lakes across its landscape. That’s my fancy-pants way of saying I made a giant fucking mess on everything and would need to wash my comforter thoroughly before sleeping on it. I half-rolled onto my side, he asked if I wanted it that way. Yes. Orgasm. Another orgasm. He asks if I want it from behind. Yes. Orgasm. He asks if I want him to rub my asshole while he fucks me with a toy. Yes. That little bit of gentle pressure drives me wild. Do I want more pressure? Yes. Keep fucking me. More orgasms. Can he slip his finger inside? YES. DON’T STOP. Fuck, I am losing it. I know if I don’t shut this down quickly I’m going to just tell him to use my glass plug to warm me up, then go full on. I very much enjoyed him asking permission before touching me there, and before stepping up the intensity. While I’m bent over the edge of the bed, him penetrating my ass with his digits while banging a dildo into me rhythmically, my foot finds its way to his hard-on. He will be finishing tonight. He keeps it going until my whole body is turning to jelly from release. He wanted to DP me the traditional way with him and a toy (one in front, one in back,) and also suggested the possibility of fucking me with a toy and his cock in the same place. I’ve never done that, sounds uncomfortable. Seen it in porn, and I have a few lady friends that swear by it… I am hesitant. On both suggestions. I really cannot allow anal without some prep- I’m too old to be shitting on dicks, I’d rather just know in advance and clean out. I hear him fiddling with a condom wrapper- hooray! He’s back in the game!
Keeping me bent over he takes me hard from behind. Rough. Fast. Aggressive. Pull my fucking hair, slap my fat ass, and demand I tell you how much I love it. More than once he followed my prompt and said my magic words to make me cum hard: I love fucking you. I dunno why, but that’s my phrase. When said at the right moment, possibly repeated… stick a fork in me, I’m done. Old faithful. He cums, without warning. I’m glad he got his. I could have wrapped myself around a toy he controlled all night, and all day, until I starved to death. He had to cut me off at some point, I mean… I was pretty happy. I didn’t even know he could get down like this for so long. He wants a threesome, I’ve already had him pre-approved by QuarterRican for a future date. Now he’s nervous… can he handle us both? It’s a lot of work. I mention we want men to watch us fuck each other with strap-ons, he’s down to be a spectator. Maybe one of us will suck his dick while they other fucks her? Yeah, that’s a thing I’m OK with.
Our wrap-up after sex was also very enjoyable. He slammed a beer and turned into a white girl on spring break. I mean that pretty descriptive, he put on my chicken costume… and then my raccoon costume. Then threatened me with my giant squirt gun. Ugh, I want to be 19 and awesome again. But then I remember I never really grew up, and I’ll be celebrating 10 years of being 21 this month. I tell him next time I’d be interested in anal with him. I’m comfortable with him as a partner, he takes direction well, and he’s intuitive to my pleasure. Plus, at one point he literally commented he’s here for me- to please me. Did you hear that? That was the sound of me throwing further caution to the wind. I had to know, and I never ask this, but how many partners has he had? He’s so, so good in bed at such a young age… 12. I am floored. He gets a laugh in that some people are just naturally good in bed. HOLY HELL I JUST HAD THIS CONVERSATION- with Lt. Dangle. I wonder if I can get them to fuck me at the same time? No, don’t ask those questions. Just think about it later while you’re rubbing one out to their Facebook pics side by side.
I was stringing along a douchey (way out of my fucking league hot) pilot today, that I had lost interest in when he displayed the red flags of a bad, selfish lover… I planned on rejecting him at some point, because what’s better than a fat girl saying they’re not interested? Probably telling him a 19-year-old E3 fucked my brains out for hours and I was too tired to politely fake an orgasm with him. He unmatched me. Look look, before you get cranky about that… just know, he was the kind of dude that jerks off to videos of himself jerking off. You know exactly the type. Fuck that guy. God he was hot, though. I’ve been so vigorously satisfied tonight I don’t think I’ll thirst for Second Chance quite the same. Like, that was super fun and I hope we meet up again- if not, I am more than ok with this being the final chapter. Always end on a high note. Who’s high? I’m high. On orgasms. True story, my boyfriend before my ex-husband was the person I discovered multiple orgasms with, and my first REAL orgasm. I got so insatiable he nicknamed me Nutrageous. That’s not a joke, that’s real life.