Water Horse

This story was the kind of night that if I hadn’t been the one getting awesomely laid, I wouldn’t believe the story from another person. No way. No fucking way did the married (swingers) fireman come over to my house in his gear, nothing underneath, and rock my god damn world all night long and then once more in the morning before leaving. Nope. I’m dreaming, pinch me. How is this my life? You know like 2 years ago I was happily monogamously married, then devastated by infidelity, then a divorcee with no sex drive, no joy, and a feeling of dejection. Here I am today wondering what on Earth I did so right in my life, or former lives, to have earned some of these experiences post divorce. I’M NOT WORTHY!

For starters, this wasn’t even our first encounter. He took me on a date first! Turns out, his wifey has a boyfriend and he’s looking for a girlfriend. Initially they did the hookup thing but were not having a whole lot of positive experiences- shocker. His wife is beautiful, by the way, I can’t even imagine how much harder it is for her on Tinder. AYE, YO DUDES! STOP BEING AWFUL! So yeah, they figured their best bet to get what they were looking for was to find one person to meet their needs in a committed way. Back to my date! A real date! Thai food, I took him sledding afterward, and then we banged all night/morning/day until he had to leave. Round after round, we went through some Gatorade. I think he got 3 or 4 orgasms, which is my preference. Sheepishly he told me he hadn’t had the intention of fucking when we first met, I laughed and announced “I fuck on the first date.” CLEARLY. Look, I’m not about to waste my time on a partner I’m not sexually compatible with. Ain’t nobody got time for that. That encounter was pretty legit! He tells me my pussy is beautiful, I taste great, and I feel amazing. Cuddled all night, mumbling sweet affirmations to me. There’s probably not a whole lot better than floating in the sweet afterglow of a wonderful, passionate fuck sesh while in the arms of your out-of-your-league lover… and he’s whispering into your ear how amazing you are, and thanks you for being so great. BE STILL MY HEART! I haven’t slept that well since. And it’s a huge turn on to listen to him talk about his wife, even if we’ve just had a solid fuck and he’s still inside me while we spoon. He never speaks poorly of her, and his face lights up when she comes up in conversation. Love is beautiful, it really is. Here’s an accurate representation of what it’s like when he talks about her so sweetly, and with genuine love and respect. It just makes me want to fuck him more. I have no jealousy, or inappropriate attachment at our scenario. I have no underlying hope he’ll be with “just me” someday in the future. No, no. I definitely appreciate him as someone else’s husband I’m invited to enjoy. Which reminds me… I need to send her a Thank You card.

He’s well endowed, and it’s pierced. He has abs. Handsome, handsome man- kind of dorky, shy, a little awkward. 10 shades of my type. Can we circle back around to HE’S A FIREFIGHTER because I’m literally screaming as I type this (excuse the commercial break while I go do a little celebration dance to myself.) I was permitted to take a pic of his Jacob’s ladder for Snapchat, because of my reaction to his observation about its appearance. See, he wears a black barbell and there’s only one rung in his ladder currently. So when you look at it upside down, it looks like a hippo with beedy black eyes. I died laughing. Lost my absolute shit for a solid 10 minutes. Also, I instructed him to make my ringtone this song so we can both enjoy this moment over and over again, every time I call. He thinks I’m hilarious AND sexy, swoon! Fast forward to our most recent encounter: he texts me and asks me what I’ve got planned for the day. I’m child free for the evening and I work until 9pm, so my night is open. HINT MOTHERFUCKIN’ HINT. He’s not sure if he’ll be available that late, but we’ll see. Mmmkay, whatever I guess. I can just masturbate to my new Michael Stokes books (Yum… and yum. Nobody knows this is my porn when they come over… maybe it’s more obvious because they’re by my bed… whatever, I would do dirty, dirty things to those nubbins. If you don’t already stalk Alex Minsky, start. Hot, funny, tattooed Marine with robot leg. YAASSS, DADDY!) I get off work, he’s texted me to call him when I’m off… I oblige, he tells me he hasn’t gone home yet. Goody! Then things get a little fucky. He tells me he’s in uniform, and he heard I may have a kitten in need of rescuing. Have I called the fire department yet? No? Well I’m in luck, he makes house calls. Pretty sure every dog in the city heard the high-pitched scream I let out when I hung up my phone. This is happening. I raced home and brushed my teeth, tried to freshen up a bit and look as presentable as possible, for reasons unknown because I already know he’s gonna fuck my face off and my hair is going to be a seagull nest. Knock at the door, go time. How’s my tits, does my cinched waist look small enough, put on high heels god damn it you’re a lady, maintain your composure, don’t lock your knees, breathe.

I open the door and was ill prepared. If you have ever in your life had a sexy firefighter fantasy, it was standing in front of me in full gear. Felt the goosebumps roll across my body, my nipples got hard, and my eyes widened. I’m fairly certain I could actually hear my pupils dilate. All at the same time, instantly. I forgot how to breathe. I’m just standing there, gawking like an idiot. Oh god, say something DD. Words aren’t coming out of my mouth, I think I mumbled a hello. He’s wearing the helmet. Swear to Christ if he’d been holding an axe I probably would have just let him murder me with it. He tells me I look incredible and sexy (I’ve started wearing corsets to work under my clothes, with a stretchy belt on my cinched waist to accentuate the hourglass,) then goes right for the kill shot and scoops me into his arms for a kiss. So long, legs. I’m trying not faint. How long were my knees locked, when’s the last time I took a breath, why can’t I say anything or make eye contact? Oh, because I’ve short circuited. I feel my face get hot, I’m legitimately embarrassed at my response to such an opportunity. Yeah, I’m all confidence and seduction until you give me some ultimate fantasy scenario- then I’m just slutty Arnie Grape. I fumble to open his jacket and realize this is a uniform I’ve never taken off somebody before… with a little help it opens, exposing his beautiful naked body underneath. That’s right, just the gear. OMG SUSPENDERS. Oh fuck me, those abs. I run my hand down them and feel the little hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. Did I just salivate? He backs me over to my NEW couch (not that lumpy asshole I threw over my porch and will likely keep on my lawn for dress up tea parties,) and pushes me back onto it. I immediately go for the pants, which have a button I can’t undo. His dick is at mouth level, I’m sucking it. GIMME!

I pull his manhood out and he’s mostly hard already. I love taking him into my mouth as deeply as I can, then stroking his shaft with my tongue gently. He likes it, too. I’m being careful not to catch his piercing on my teeth as I stroke and suck him. Pleasing him brings me no small amount of joy- I want to make him moan my name and never forget me. I know he likes what that mouth do, but he’s more of a giver than he is a receiver. (Did you catch that- he’s Mr. Dreamboat AND a giver.) Regardless, I want to feel him touch my gag button near the back of my mouth. When he’s not all the way hard I can shove every inch of him in my mouth and massage with my tongue. As it grows I have to let up; I’m just not built for deep throat action. Rock hard and thoroughly aroused with my oral presentation, he pulls back from me- then he drops to his knees, puts his hands up my skirt, and pulls my panties off. Tossing them on the floor he wastes no time in pulling my ass forward and dividing my legs. The corset restricts my ability to move much once I’m on my back, I’m now a fuck turtle. Still wearing his full fire gear, including helmet, he begins to carefully run his tongue along my slit. Game. Over.

He eats pussy like a man who likes to eat pussy: exceptionally well. He’s mentioned before he just loves to do it, and very much enjoys doing it to me. I may or may not be making him a certificate to frame. I cum in his mouth twice I think, maybe three times. He tells me again how beautiful it is, how delicious it is, and how perfect I am. I’m floating. This wonderful man asks me if he can put his cock in me now- WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!? He doesn’t take his gear off. I feel him slide that wonderfully above average appendage in me and I lose any ability to say no to him for the rest of the night. Whatever you want, take me every way you can imagine. Pounds me good and hard on the couch for a bit before he needs to take a break- he’s hot, I’m sure, and wanting to change positions since he’s been on his knees on my hardwood floor. I take this opportunity to scamper back to my bedroom and call him to join me. Why fuck on a couch when I’ve managed to turn my bed into heaven itself? Following me to the bedroom he gets that mischievous twinkle in his eye that can only mean more fun. He wants me to put my legs over the power tower’s dip handles and hold onto the pull-up bar. DONE. He’s on his knees- or crouching, I have no idea- and I’m trying to hold myself up while also letting go enough to allow for climax. Unfortunately he just happens to be so, so, so good at what he does (namely, pleasing me in every possible way,) that I cannot trust my grip while my eyes roll back and I begin to near the edge of an orgasm. Nope, this is how sex accidents happen. I’ll end up in the ER one of these days, but maybe getting injured with a fire responder is a fairly safe way to go about it? I must’ve perfectly fallen onto this phallic object, please don’t look me in the eye while I turn in my insurance paperwork. (If you’ve ever had to go to the ER for a sex related injury, they know what you did and they’re judging you.)

We segue to the bed because it’s time to slam dance all fucking night. I’m about to drain this man of every last drop bit of energy and semen he can muster. See, my preference is to have my partner get off as many times as possible- I hope 3 times for them in an encounter is a good goal. One is never enough. One isn’t even the minimum anymore. You deserve 2, boo. I’m planning on having several dozen orgasms as loudly as possible, so it’s only kind of fair I at least attempt to reciprocate am I right? Besides, you’re gonna work for it. Don’t get it twisted, I’m all about being on top, giving head, pushing back on it, etc. I am IN IT TO WIN IT. I am not a starfish. In fact, I often describe myself as a sexual spider monkey- I mean it, too. (Wait until I install the hooks in my ceiling.) But you’re gonna work for it. I want my room to smell like a whore house when you leave. I mean, it’s fitting. I start out by riding him, he’s still in his firefighting pants (suspenders drive me wild,) but has lost his jacket on my couch and the helmet is somewhere on my floor. I love sitting on that big dick. Not too long, beautifully thick. He’s not The Thickness, but I’m still not convinced that really even happened because it was just too… too… custom-built? Like somebody made that dick just for me. Anyway, I don’t mean to compare them- entirely different lovers, entirely different men. Mr. Fireman has this endless energy to please me thoroughly and vigorously. My favorite. I have no idea when all my clothes came off, or his, but we were naked, sweaty, and dehydrated within a few short hours. I vaguely remember him actually rolling us, while still fucking, over to grab a Gatorade- and drinking it, while fucking me. Still funny. Like, he’s not willing to miss a stroke just to quench his own thirst. Where do I sign, this is all I want all the time.

By the time this one leaves me glued to my mattress, my downstairs mix-up has begun to look like the world’s largest collection of chewed bubblegum. #Wrecked. I could probably spend paragraphs, hours, days, whole Greek epics trying to describe the wonders of this man’s penis and his incredible, passionate sexual performances… and I do. I haven’t actually shut up about this particular encounter since it happened. We both wake up extremely horny so as soon as he had to get up in the morning to head home, he takes me. Please, please, please be like this every time. Love on me all night, fall asleep with me sweetly, fuck me real good before you leave. That’s a solid arrangement, I’d be pretty happy with it. He tells me that this particular night together is all thanks to his wife- she insisted he come over and give it to me proper in his uniform when he was on the fence about coming home or waiting for me to get off work. Obviously his wife is in the know that it’s every woman’s fantasy ever. Solidarity, sister. You’re the best wingman I’ve ever fucking had in my life. Respect. I don’t know which one of them I love more right now.

He’s going with me to get my next genital piercing- I think I want a horizontal hood to go with my vertical one. Exciting, right? I couldn’t convince him to get holes in his body with me, but he’ll fuck my brains out before my appointment, and once in the car in the parking lot of the piercing shop, and hold my hand while I get it done. I want to go on another date, maybe sneak away for some naughty play time somewhere we’re not supposed to be. Picturing him covering my mouth, while my leg is over his shoulder and I’m cumming in his mouth, trying to be secret-squirrel in a public place… hot. Oh, PS, I’ve lost 43 lbs on my weight loss journey. The incredible shrinking slut! You don’t actually get to call me that, that’s our word. I asked for permission to share the Snap I took of his ding-dong so other people could also enjoy the hippo. You’re welcome in advance.