Sodomy Sunday, Happy Keister

What the fuck just happened. My cunt hurts.

Day started out pretty simple, shaved QuarterRican‘s asshole for her so she could go on a date later, gave her a quick BJ/HJ 101 on a dildo, maybe did a snuffleupagus impression in her lady folds, sent her on her way. She and I are what happens when cisgender men wake up with vaginas one day, in case you’ve ever wondered. Decided somewhere in there I should throw Adderall in my system, after she left I resigned to spending the day riding my knock off sybian and playing with myself various ways. I like days like today- everything is closed, everybody is doing things with their families, no work, no responsibility, no social obligations. Diddle myself all god damn day, days. Lightbulb, ever since Napsturbate I’ve wanted to continue the make-out assist while I ride my fuck machine- Tinder to the rescue, am I right? Everybody wants to watch a woman ride one in real life, and I’m the slutty Make-A-Wish Foundation. Swipe, swipe, swipe. Yesterday a cute dude my age hits me up send me his Sybian Star Trek fan fiction and I am over the moon he’s messaging me today too. *Note to self: he used the term fan fiction, find out what his fandom is and how deep the nerdy goes. Nerds are my jam, baby. Pro-tip: how someone talks to you online or in person, is pretty much how you can expect them to fuck you. Tone is as important as content. He’s funny, that’s the best sign. Funny dudes are better in bed- I cannot express this enough. How many times have I said this and it’s been true? Nearly every god damn time. I tell him I’m spending the day with bae (torn on naming the fuck machine Saddam Pussein, or Muammar Get-off-e… either way, needs a mustache,) in bed. He asks if I’d allow an audience, DING DING DING WE HAVE A WINNER! Of course, but you have to make-out with me; nobody get’s a free show. Throw him my phone number, he texts me, I send him my address. Now I need to hustle and clean up my house because he’s on the way right meow. Our online interaction was very, very brief but I had only considered we’d suck face while I had a big ol’ orgasm on my adult choo choo.

I take one look in the mirror and I’m already mad at what’s going on with my face. Hey, since you’re risen Jesus how about you come heal this leper- because it’s not fair I look like I’m smoking meth without the added benefit of also being skinny. GOD DAMN IT I’M OVER 30 MAKE IT STOP. Moving on. Fuck… how do I distract from how awful this is… there’s no time to go full Mrs. Doubtfire with FX makeup, maybe just answer the door mostly nude and cinched into a corset? Done. Black lace bra, black cheeky panties with hot pink trim, black corset. My hair, my delicious, curly, red, lion’s mane- is in pigtails. Grey heels finish it off. Back in the mirror, yeah I look great- I’d fuck me. He arrives and I wasn’t really prepared yet; fuck machine still in my closet, I’m kind of scatter-brained because the Adderall is doing its magic, and I hadn’t considered I had no idea what to expect of him in person. I am legit the easiest person to murder. *Example: I had this dude I was super into for a hot minute, let’s call him Soldier StranglePorn, who really just wanted to choke me in bed until I lost consciousness… and he maybe watched nearly-illegal rapey almost-snuff porn. I laughed that I’d probably come across a serial killer in my hookup adventures by now, he said something to the effect of “they probably let you live because you’re charming.” Then we giggled. WAIT….* I size him up- he’s over 6 foot, damn it, so I’m on guard as best I can. Younger looking in person, and just as handsome as his photos. My weight-loss goal as of now is to have the face my fat girl angle pictures say I have. While I’m stumbling over myself and being a big, clumsy, mini-drag queen, he’s stripped down to his underwear. I don’t think I’ve made eye contact yet, the jig is up if I’m trying to establish any kind of dominance or authority. Fuck. Please don’t assault me, stranger. His body is strong and hairy, masculine. He’s kind of quiet. Are we nervous or is he plotting to murder me… take a chance and roll the dice, kids. Famous last words I want on my gravestone: what’s the worst that can happen?

I chose to ride the g-spot and clitoral stimulator attachment, just like with the Airman a week ago. (I fuck so many airplane mechanics my title should be Load Master.) I lubed it up, got into position, and started manning the controls. He aggressively attacked my tits and neck area with his mouth as soon as I was done getting adjusted and ready to tag him in for the assist. Gropey hands, good kisser, I took myself over the edge but it took longer than usual. I’m glad I don’t have nails, I would have been digging them into his back as I was holding on for deal life riding that climax. After I cum loud and hard, sorry not sorry neighbors who inquired if I had recently purchased a sander, I post up on the couch to regain my composure. He sits next to me and the face sucking continues… as his hand parts my thighs and quickly slips into my lubed up and shaved naughty bits. I don’t even think I’d told him I had piercings before he came over, that must have been a fun surprise starting at the tatas and then discovering the one down below. I’ve been told it looks like Cthulhu hugging a fire hydrant. WHATEVER, AJ- IF THE NAVY CAN’T MAKE YOU GAY, SEEING MY BEJEWELED HAM WALLET ON SNAP CHAT WILL! *I wish we had more sailors in Alaska. So far my only active duty one was a dud; mid-coitus he spit in my mouth, after we went over my do’s and don’ts, so I reflexively used the heel of my hand to bust his nose. Self defense comes in handy! DD 1 – Sailor 1. I thought we were fighting…* So big guy is masturbating me on my couch, pretty sure I made a mess there, and I’m wanting a more comfortable setting. Also, I’m a fan of his hands. I lead him to my bedroom, I want to make-out while I use Pusseidon, the trusty trident, and maybe see if this playtime segues to oral. I’ll reciprocate, lick your way out of my envelope factory.

Not going to lie, once we hit my bed it becomes blurry… he basically just rocked my ever-loving world on and off for like 3 hours. Without using his dick. Starting off, I was using my toy while he worked on my tits and kissed me. I was still in my bra and corset at this point, so that was interesting; my tiny little T-rex arms have a hard time reaching and using my vibrator effectively when I’m cinched in. He started working his hand in with my vibrator. What is this… that’s new. Tight fit but it feels great. Reminds me of The Thickness. Also, he’s been touching my perfect little asshole and intermittently slipping fingers in while he diddles me. I abandon my vibrator and let him take over. Fine, you drive! He’s trying to put his whole hand in me, I’m not stopping him. I’m down to try new stuff if it feels good. I’d been fisted once by an older lesbian, her hands were about my size and she knew exactly what she was doing… I joke that she learned proper fisting technique in prison (twisting is the secret, by the way.) His hands aren’t too terribly much larger than mine, but god damn are they strong. Arms too. And he can just wail on my g-spot for-ev-errrrrr. I finally had to just ask what it was he did for a living, and I’m betting on mechanic. MECHANIC HANDS ARE THE BEST! He’s not a mechanic, but a job that requires the same kind of hands. I’m giving myself a half credit for my guess. After an undetermined amount of playtime/orgasms, I realize I’ve completely soaked my bed. Rub the back of my bladder from the inside, see what happens. Worst jack-in-the-box ever, but turn my crank anyway.

We were cuddling (hooray!) while I composed myself after alternating between crab-walking all over my bed and wrapping my limbs around him like a big, slutty octopus while I loudly climaxed. I needed a breaky-poo… and I can already tell my pousoir is going to be feeling today’s shenanigans for a WHILE. Bust out the bag of frozen peas, I’m getting wrecked today. He’s wonderful. Pretty sure we spent a solid 30 minutes talking about the movie Good Burger, or the Pete Holmes version of Batman. His impression was spot on, I was dying laughing. Uh, talk about comics more- I don’t follow, but I fetishize nerds to the Nth degree so I’m getting wet the deeper you get into your fandom. Oh lord, he recommended an anime- fist me Daddy! Speaking of, we get back to business and he does things with his hands in me that I’ve never felt before. Face down, ass up, all kinds of things happening and I’m mostly just making animal noises into my bedding. My hair was a fucking war crime when all was said and done. I regret nothing, he’s pushing my limits for pleasurable stretching. No surprise he’s into porn featuring large insertions, even less of a surprise I’m into porn with multiple male partners with one woman. We’re into them for basically the same reasons: her getting off. Neither of us is particularly turned on by degrading, abusive, humiliating stuff; I get why it appeals to some, and I try not to kink shame, but I just cannot be aroused when someone is being an asshole. Love me a man that enjoys watching a woman cum, especially when it’s not me. His type, apparently, is petite red heads with curly hair. Huh. About the only thing about me that’s petite is my height, but I’m counting myself in the winner’s circle regardless. Pet my hair and tell me I’m pretty. I wanted to gift him back an orgasm for the dozens upon dozens he gave me throughout our encounter- he said he was so pent up it would arrive very quickly. He wasn’t wrong, maybe next time I’ll get the chance to use my mouth on him and not just my hands. I WANT TO SHOW YOU WHAT I LEARNED AT BIBLE CAMP! I can’t wait to ride his knuckles again.

He has asked to be referred to as Strawberry Jacuzzi and I’m delighted to oblige.

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DD Fnord

I left my cheating spouse September of 2015. In October of that year, I filed for divorce and set out to move on and reclaim my lost libido. I spent 8 years of my 20's faithful to two unfaithful men, I have so much time to make up for! All The Dicks is my journey having sex with whoever I want, whenever I want, however I want. The first person I spent the night with after my husband, reignited the spark and desire I thought I would need counseling to retrieve. The second person I was with sealed the deal. I wasn't broken, I just needed a tune up. This collection of encounters are the ones worth re-telling- I don't write about every sexual encounter I have, and I certainly don't bother with any that were sub-par. The screenshots are my own personal wall of shame, but also my trophies because nobody puts baby in a corner.

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