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.

No Sex for Me

I’ll get back to personality after this:

I moved this past weekend, with the help of a male friend from work, who I’ll call A,  my dad, mom, & brother.   (I thought my brother would be working, come to find out he quit or got fired – which is why I asked A.)  Anyways, the moving day did not start off well.  First, I had to go to work.  Second, on the way home to move A decided he wasn’t actually going to pay full attention to how he was driving, and plowed into my back-end.  The sound it made was horrendous.  But little damage was done, just some chipped paint.  Either way, I was okay w/ my baby being hit, and I made A aware of this.  Told him not to dwell on it.  Well, he did, and probably still is 5 days later.

Anyways, A decided to start tearing down my water-bed frame while we waited on my dad to get ready.  In the process of doing this, I told him that the headboard needed to come down first since it is heavy.  He didn’t listen.  Instead, he took off the one side, took off the bottom, and took off the other side.  The headboard comes crashing down.  Well, ok, I caught one side of it, but still, the other side *crashed* down!   That actually pissed me off.  And so I started moving things and got away from him. 

See, A has issues.  He’s taking medication for them.  But I found out he took himself off of his medication for the past week.  Which is not good.  He’s a little anxious.  He dwells, etc.   So, he’s constantly go, go, go.  This part of his personality bothers me.  I can’t handle it.  It’s annoying and just overall frustrating.  Ok, more annoying than anything.

Anyways, my point in this is somewhere.  Somewhere being, I could never, in a million years be in a relationship w/ a man like this.  If I say something, I want to be heard.  I don’t want to have to worry about his mental welfare. I don’t want to have to worry about my physical possessions.   Listen to me!!!

Another point.  All my friends seem to think A and I would be perfect together.  Since, mostly, we already have that  Been-Married-For-50-Years friendship.  We fight, we laugh, we talk, we don’t.  Like we’ve been married for 50 years.   But there’s a reason, maybe two, why we haven’t given an actual boyfriend/girlfriend relationship a chance.  His: because he doesn’t want to ruin another friendship. Mine: he doesn’t have sex.

Yes, he doesn’t have sex.  He is a born again christian, which goes against everything I believe in.  I believe I should be able to try the milk before I buy the cow.  I believe if the sex isn’t good, the relationship won’t last.  I believe if my needs can’t be met experimentally, at least, there’s no chance.  

I know this guy, I feel it deep down in my bones, he would never go for what I have in mind.  He would never tie me up. He would never spank me like he means it.  He would never wrap his hand around my throat.  He would never bite me.  He would never pull my hair.  He would never paddle me.  He would just never take charge.  I can only see him doing it missionary.  Possibly even doggy style.  And of course, every mans’ dream: girl on top.  But not how I want it.  Not what will turn me and turn me loose. 

Nobody . . . .well, nobody that actually knows me, thinks he’ll just turn his nose up at my suggestions.  They all think that given half the chance, I could probably get him to have sex before getting married. That I could get him to do kinky, freaky things w/ me.   But I know A, I know him so well, it’s not going to happen. 

This is why I can not be w/ him.  It’s actually first and foremost.  Way beyong his mental instability. Way beyond his need to do everything for everybody.  (He’s not needy tho, do not confuse or blur that line.)   But at the same time, I don’t want to have to deal w/ the way he is on a daily basis.  During work is enough for me.

But yet, nobody seems to understand.