Sunday, February 10, 2013
I was running errands (probably getting a new vibrator), when I met him. A tall drink of water with an impeccable ass. I was sure he had the dick to match. He was new to the city, therefore new to my vagina. Being the hospitable gal that I am, I was ready to show him all the sites, including a grand tour of my pussy! A good fuck is always the best souvenir, isn’t it? After some chit chat, we decided to go out.
A few days later, we met at park for an intimate picnic one afternoon. Not my typical scene for a first date, but I enjoyed the mix up. It’ll be nice, I thought, to not have to wear my stilettos or get grinded on in the middle of the dance floor… as much as this ass loves some manly dick.
We sat down on a plush blanket and opened our picnic basket. I made us sandwiches like I was straight out of Little House and the Prairie. It was a little weird not having a glass of wine in my hand, but I knew I didn’t the extra “push” to get down and dirty later on.
Pretty soon, it was obvious to me that this guy didn’t need alcohol to get his jollies on either. Maybe it was the soft blanket, or how short my skirt was … but this guy was all over me. He kept trying to make out in the middle of the park. I get it, dude. I’m hot, and you’re as horny as my grandpa on Viagra. But let’s keep our privates, private. I enjoy the tease, the mystery – not a guy who’s easier than my 15-year-old beaver was. Treat me like a lady in public, and I promise I’ll go all Cirque du Soleil on your dick in the bedroom.
We planned another date; this time, it was at night. We met at an Italian restaurant. Luckily, he sat across from me so he couldn’t attack me in public. We headed back to his place afterwards where he made me another drink.
He put on some music. He was definitely setting the mood for sex. I appreciated the effort, even if he was obvious.
To get the evening started, I teased him by doing a little strip tease. I slowly took off my clothes one by one. Once I was completely naked, he asked if I wanted a lap dance from him. Sure, I thought. It’s about time the guy starts doing some of the work.
But as he started to strip for me, I knew I should have said no. He looked like a gay Orka whale trying to hump in sync with the HHH. My pussy was getting as dry as sandpaper in the middle of the Sahara watching him try to seduce me. I’m surprised my eyes didn’t bleed.
Then it got worse. As he took off his boxers, I noticed that he was groomed…like really groomed. I love when a guy takes care of his unruly pubes, but if he has a design shaved into his man beard… that’s a little troubling.
“What is that?” I asked. I knew what it was but I had to make sure I was right.
He looked at me with a smile, “It’s a V, baby. V for Victory.” As if I didn’t know what a V looked like, he also showed me with his fingers by making a peace sign.
“I know what a V is but why did you do that?”
“My waxing lady said I should do it, so I did.”
“Of course she did,” I told him. “ She just wanted some idiot to fall for it… and you did.”
“Wait, so I shouldn’t have done it?”
“No man should ever do that.”
It was awkward. There we were, both naked, both with our Vs hanging out. I knew I had gotten myself into this mess, I probably had to take one for the team. This guy, although a little gay, might rock my world in bed. Besides, I was already naked. Waste not, I thought.
That was an excellent decision, because he made me cum three times. But making him cum was a different story. He was very specific about how he wanted it. It’s one thing to tell someone how you like it, but it’s another to have specific instructions. I tell men all the time how I like it when they go down on me, but I don’t say: “Turn your head to the left at a 45 degree angle, now flick your tongue 10 times. Now flick it faster 20 times while holding my pussy lips with your right hand twisted to the left.”
That’s exactly how it was when giving him head. Very specific. He had no problem demanding away, too… pretty ballsy for our first time in the sack. I felt like I was reading a manual, not having sex.
We were using a condom, and he, of course, mentioned that he never gets off with a condom. (He’s not the first or last guy I’ll hear that one from.) So instead he said if you give me head I can come. So I start to give him head, and he tells me to be careful because his shaft is very sensitive. (But it’s not with a condom on?) I mean so sensitive to where it was freakin’ Tickle-Me-Elmo, but with a condom on he felt nothing.
He twisted and pushed my head to the position he wanted it so I can suck his cock at the right angle.
“Don’t push my head like I’m a fuckin’ rag doll,” I told him. “Just tell me where you want me to move my head.”
“It’s just easier to put you where I want it.”
“That’s not how I work if you want to get off.”
So he had me sucking his cock at an angle so that I wouldn’t go too deep on his shaft. My head is on his left leg while his cock is going sideways into my mouth. It was a fuckin’ Geometry problem to get this kid off.
Normally when it’s late, I have no problem staying the night especially if it’s someone because I love morning sex. But no way was I going to do mental math early in the morning just to pleasure the guy with the ridiculous pubes.
After he came, I quickly got my stuff, told him it was fun and left. He called me to get together that weekend with some for a foursome, which normally I’d be up for… but not with this guy.
I told him I had fun, but that I wasn’t interested in seeing him anymore. I felt that he was up front and honest with me about exactly how he liked his cocked sucked, so I thought I’d return the favor with exactly how I felt about his specific dick-sucking needs.
- Sienna Sinclaire® – The Single Girl®: Your Naughty Lifestyle Guide