Virginity Lost . . . Again

As of this past Saturday my non-existant sex life has become null and void.  Altho, I have a feeling it will become quite active again as of the following day.

I had a date.  A date that was suppose to be a mini-golfing extravaganza w/ a friendly wager involved.  However since torrential downpours and poor planning on his part did that activity in, we opted for movie watching.  At my place. 

 No good can come of a man and woman watching a movie where there is a bedroom a few feet away.  Unless you consider awkward getting to know you kisses and even more awkward, “Is he going to fuck me?” questions running thru my head something good.  I suppose in the end, it was good.  Good in the fact that my born-again virgin status has left me for the  time being. 

It started off innocently enough w/ him showing up on my door at about 9:45 in the evening.  He selected a movie of mine to watch since we seemed to have had mixed signals about who was going to be renting a movie.  Popped in the movie and away we went.  It wasn’t like the movie theatres where you yell at a person behind you yacking away about nothing or making those movie going sounds, “oooooh,”  “ahhhhhh,”  “NO! Don’t go in there you fucking idiot!!”  But we only managed to shut up for about 20 minutes of almost 2 hour movie.  The time in between the quiet he spent picking on me.  Or mimmicking me, as he says.  Either way, it was fun and I can’t complain.

After the movie ended the very inevitable, “Are we going to fuck?” resounded thru my head loudly.  Loud enough for me to make the first move and bust out my Bite Me necklace.  I love being bitten, so this helped get his mouth in the right position for kissing me.  We played around w/ that for awhile before I worked our way to my bedroom. 

He had me pushed up against my bed.  My bare breasts in his hands.  His mouth doing torturous things to my neck. My hands stripping him of his shirt. We climbed aboard the bed and he wasted no time in getting my pants off, his fingers up my cunt and his mouth on my clit.  I like a man who goes down on me from the very beginning.  (Altho, I do like a man who’ll eat my pussy like a champ after he’s pumped me till I’m frothing and laps up all the juice he helped to cause.)

After a few raging minutes of me trying unsuccessfully to avoid his mouth and the pleasure he was giving me, he came up for air.  He kissed me.  I do so enjoy tasting myself on a tongue.  I can lick and lap at it all I want w/out fear of feeling like I’m depraved that I want to taste myself.  

I unbuckled his belt.  I freed his cock.  At this time, I learned the man does not own a shaving implement to help control the landscape.  However, I did not let this deter me. I forged on and pushed his pants down his hips.  He then moved to the side and frantically tore his pants and SpongeBob Squarepants boxers off.  I, of course, did the obligatory kissing down his body before I greedily swallowed his cock.  I love the taste of cock.  Especially since I’ve deprived myself of it for so long.  (And have been deprived of it by another.)

I bobbed, I weaved, I swirled.  I sucked, I fucked. I stroked and fondled.  I did everything I remember doing back when I was a blow job giving queen.  I was loving his moans.  His groans of satisfaction.  His, “you’re killing me,” “you’re driving me crazy,” pleasure driven chatter.   I wanted to give it all. I wanted to take it all. 

However my pussy was yelling for attention.  It had been so long feeling that first sure stroke.  And I had minutes to wait.  I don’t know if he needed time to recouperate from the tongue lashing I so richly enjoyed … or if he was as unsure of having sex as I was. 

He spanked my ass. He pulled my hair.  He ran his fingertips down my back.  He bit my neck. He licked my lips.  I turned around and had him spooning me.  I could feel his hard cock trying to search out my pussy.  I arched into him trying to line him up. Hoping upon hope he’d get the picture. 

I turned on my back, placed my leg over his. He thrust his hips and ……… OMG!  He felt so damn good!  I wanted that feeling to stay forever. I love the feeling of having something sliding into me for the first time.  It never gets any better than that.  (Ok, except for that hard driving pounding that only doggy style can give me.) He started fucking me.  And I mean fucking me.  But evidently that wasn’t a good enough position.

He threw my leg over his shoulder and got on his knees.  He fucked me ruthlessly. I was helpless. I loved it.  He laid his weight on top of me. Driving the breath from me as he stroked and ravaged my tight cunt.   I was almost head over heels for this man who was giving what my neglected pussy has been needing for well over a year.   And then he came.

I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted more. I wanted assorted positions. I wanted the thrashing I had been craving for what seems like forever.  I wanted more sweat. I wanted screaming. (Mine, of course.) And pleading, begging.  Some more spanking. A lot more hair pulling. 

But it had been 2 months for him.  I suppose I should cut him a break.  He laid there breathing hard and praising my fellatio skills.  Telling me he’s sorry he didn’t last that long.  I felt way too good.   I’ve heard all this before but coming from him. . . . I’ll take it as it was meant to be: a compliment.

I’ll have to wait to see if this has a to be continued after it.

Trials and Tribulations. Or Something

I’m contradictory. I’m contrary. I’m also indecisive.  This makes for some rather disappointing shit.  Especially in my life and how I view things.  I can’t stand it.    Here’s 3 things wrong w/ me.

1.   OM is taking early retirement.  There’s a bunch of shit going down where we work and they’re offering  early retirement/severance packages to upper management.  Or the possibility of transferring to another department. Or just staying there and hoping he’s not one of the many that will get fired.  

He emailed me at home and told me his last day is as early as May 9th as late as May 23rd.  I’m kind of conflicted over this. A little bit upset, a little bit relieved.   But in the email he also revealed he was planning on leaving June 1st anyways.   So I’m glad this worked out for him.  His leaving was just made a little sweeter.  

But at the same time…. like I said, I’m a little upset.  And I hate that I feel this way since I’ve super glued the light switch in the off position.  (And I plan on keeping it there. —- Out of sight, out of mind!)  But I won’t get to talk to him whenever I want.  I could email him, but it’s not the same.  The man has been in my life for almost 7 years now.  I’m use to him.  I think that’s what’s bothering me.

Either way my feelings changed depending on the hour this week, I’m going to miss him.

2.  OIC…. not so much anymore.  It’s been almost 2 months, or has actually been over 2 months since I’ve told him to start taking me seriously in my pursuit of happiness.   Last night was the final straw.  I let him know how I feel, although he couldn’t answer back because as always he’s “BRB.”   I think that right there is what pushed me over the edge.  I basically told him I was sick of his shit.  Either stop playing the game and take me seriously or get the fuck out of my life.   We’ll see what happens, but I’m not  holding my breath and I’m not counting on anything. 

3.  I’ve come across a guy who has a damn sexy voice.  And kept me on the phone for a little over an hour… past my bedtime.  He has a great sense of humor.  He’ll paint my walls, do my dishes, and a plant my flowers all for the whopping price of “all my silver stars.”   Granted, I don’t have silver stars, and I hope he knows I’m joking, but it’s fun nonetheless.  However, yes — a however, he’s rather short for a guy.  And it’s something that bothers me.  But at the same time I think: Hmmmm…. wonder what sex would be like w/ him.  I bet it wouldn’t be awkward because we’d almost be perfectly lined up.   He does have his age going for him.  7 years and 4 days difference than me.   And he has a job.  Hopefully a more stable one than mine.  Ha ha ha.  And he has a house, w/ a pool.   So yay! for independence and maturity!

I feel like I should be pulling my hair out. But at the same time I know next week, I’ll be back to my calm, cool, collected self.  Or somewhere relatively close to there.  Until then, I remain aggravated.