I keep telling myself he’s not so great. So I avoid him I don’t talk to him but eventually the idea of him gets larger and larger. Soon he turns into this mythos a of a man. His good qualities magnified while his flaws almost completely forgotten.
A friend and lover once asked me “what draws you towards monogamy? Especially when instead of trying to find everything from one person, multiple lovers can fulfill your needs more readily”. My short answer, I’m lazy/ don’t like to juggle too many men at once. And while his way of living/fucking may not fit me I do agree with him.
Take for instance in my pursuit for monogamy I do keep 2-3 partners at once until I can find “the one”. Every guy fulfills a purpose.
First string lover provides friendship and fucking. Which include activities outside the bedroom and a healthy amount of personal sharing. I can sleep over at his house comfortably without worry. This relationship almost borders on potential but usually never reaches full potency.
Second string lover provides good escapism and sometimes raw animal magnetism. He’s usually good for a drink every other week that turns into a night long fuck fest in which afterwards we catch up and cuddle and then part ways. I usually never sleep at his place and our conversations never run deep.
And then there’s my pinch hitter. He’s a fucking machine, provides no mental stimulus, but he is available almost anytime I call him.
And yet that’s all I wanna do.
I wish I had a cool guy.
A laid back guy.
Who wants to sleep in on the weekends.
Waking up to his arms around me
His hard dick poking me
And after we fuck
We eat cereal in bed
And read the morning news to each other
Checking our social media accounts
Our legs intertwined under the covers
As I snuggle into the crook of his arm
Whenever I’m tired, drained physically and mentally from too much work I tend to break down in tears at the slightest provocation. They don’t have my favorite candy that I’ve been craving? Tears instantly. I wake up late for work, torrential downpour of tears. The worst part about it though is I then beat myself up for being weak. My inner voice tells me how pathetic I am and all this regret and anxiety attacks me.
And I know all I need is a good rest and probably something to eat but I just can’t. The voice beats me down and so I can’t sleep. The depression makes me not want to get out of bed. So I’m trapped. The only thing that makes it slightly bearable is smoking weed. It makes the anxiety lessen and dulls the voice of anxiety but it’s only a quick fix and doesn’t last long. Sooner or later it comes back. All I can do is keep running.
Her legs wrapped around my shoulders I lapped at her sweet cunt. Her moans mellow and intimate made me burn hotter. I could feel her hands in my hair not pulling but rather taking grasp as though she didn’t want me to leave. She shook and came, but I wouldn’t give up just then. I laid down on top of her my fingers between her lips fucking her hard and hitting that g spot like target practice and I was all bulls eyes. Her lips were sweet and soft as I kissed her and we shared the taste …ring…buzz…vibrate.
I wake up and turn over in bed to see my phone buzzing and ringing away furiously.
Thirst consumes me. Armed in boy shorts and nothing up top I hop over to the fridge to be once again disappointed by my low supplies. Neither Hef or Newcastle sounds good at 2 am.
Laying back down I count away. Friday, 1. Saturday, 2. Sunday, 3. Monday, 4. The fourth night of wet dreams. My phone rings this time somehow communicating it’s urgency. Who could be calling me this late? I answer right before the last ring. A voice slurred and anxious asks me “Guess who?”
After a conversation with much coaxing from both ends I get dressed in some shorts and a wife beater. Standing outside of my building you come around and whisk me away to your place.
4 shots of Jack’s later, a multitude of song selections and a few opportune lap dances and I’m in your bed. We’ve gotten the first quick fuck out of the way and our now onto the big event. Toys now strewn on the bed, you tease me with a feather and quickly follow with the crop whip. You blind fold me and tie my hands behind my back.
Your fingers are slick with lube and roaming my body. I shiver with anticipation.
You play with my clit while holding my bound hands. Laying kisses on my back I look back in hopes of getting another long lingering taste of your lips. You tie the end of the rope you used to bound my hands on the bed post. Hanging head forward and kneeling you punish my bottom with a wide paddle.
“Tell me how much you want to fuck me with that tight little cunt, you whore”
Your commands are aggressive and almost snarled. I beg you I tell you I’ll be your whore every night and that I would please you to no end. You stop paddling me when you feel the moisture from between my legs increase. I feel you shifting around on the bed.
Then a wave of ecstasy washes over me. Your under me. Your breath fresh on my clit, you waver and kiss inside of my thighs and grab my buttocks to give it a few sharp slaps. You lap slowly over my clit and I shake and moan.
“Only sluts moan like that” another sharp slap. I gasp hard and groan outwardly.
Your tongue is talented and it never ceases to pleasure me. Not once do you veer off track on purpose. Rather than bad you’re evil. You build me up and never let me cum. I almost pulling your hair out begging you asking you, please please please. Every time I almost climax you hear a repetition of “yes yes yes” and let go. I let out a wild scream through gritted teeth. Finally without licking or sucking you gently kiss my clit and I cum. I shake hard and bite my lower lip.
“Would you like to fuck me now?” The question is absurd when coming from such a desirable man.
You untie my hands, but forbid me from taking off the blindfold. Feeling my way in the dark I feel your body laying down and your hard cock pitching an invisible tent. My mouth has been waiting for it, unsatisfied with being filled with moans and words. Your pre cum tastes sweet and I deep throat to your delight. My hands love playing with you long thick cock going up and down squeezing the tip of your head. You grab me by the wrists and pull me up to straddle your cock. Gently you enter me and I slowly bounce up and down and settle into a rhythm. You push my hips harder into you make me grind and feel you deep inside. Bucking like a bull rider I moan I sweat I grab my hair in the heat of the moment. The blind fold comes off and it’s as if you’ve had your eyes on me the whole time.
We change into various positions and after what feels like minutes, but was actually and hour and a half you get behind me and fuck me hard. To the point where it almost hurts but it feels so good. You pull out and I lay flat on my back. A synchronized movement. The warm spray of your cum on my chest makes me cum simultaneously as I rub my clit.
The only thing left is the sound of hard breathing and the smiles plastered on both of our faces
I wanted to kiss you immediately upon seeing your smile.
Deeply passionately intensely.
My arms around your neck, my hands in your hair.
Beckoning you to tongue my wet warm mouth.
Your hand on my throat pulling me in deeper, then dipping down to my plump tits.
A shiver builds into a moan.
You told me to come have a drink if I didn’t want to go home. And so I came but you weren’t there. I stared into my empty glass still a whiff of whiskey. Wondering what could have been. Would I see you again? Were you the one? Two people in a big city having a chance meeting. Something movies are made of, but we would have no happy ending.