Don’t be a Dick

Look.  If you wanted to sound less cunty in my stories, you should have been less of a cunt.  You know what I’m saying?

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I know an even bigger cunt though.

You’re shocked.  Don’t be!  I’m not even talking about Satan himself, the father of my children.  Oh no.  I’m talking about Goliath.  I’m using a biblical code name for several reasons.

First of all, he was fucking gigantic.  In the pants.

Secondly, the sex was a religious experience.

Thirdly, he ruined normal sex forever.  I wouldn’t call myself David though, cause that’d just be weird.

Anyway, I met this motherfucker on Christmas Eve.  I followed the strict rules I’d imposed upon myself.  Public meeting.  Must sit through a coffee and conversation without grossly offending me.  No sex on the first meet.

Ok those aren’t strict rules at all.  By Tinder standards though, that’s as strict as it gets.

So he picked me up, and was fine as fuck.  I struggled to make eye contact or speak in unbroken sentences, that eye candy was so sweet.  He was blonde too.  I have such a thing for blondes, it’s ridiculous.

We sat down for coffee in the most boiling hot, hellish cafe in existence.  It wasn’t his fault, it was summer.  I was glad I didn’t bother wearing a bra.  So was he after about 20 minutes when he realized and glanced down.

Dang.

It was hot in there.

We conversed like civilized adults for at least 90 minutes.  That’s a good coffee session.  I was impressed enough to launch myself at his face when he dropped me home again.

I should have known he was a cunt by how smoothly it all went.  Even I was smooth.  That’s a bit odd… usually I do some minor stupid thing, or trip over nothing.  Once again though, I was too into blondes to notice anything at all.

He messaged me immediately after he left with just 3 words.

“Yes, I approve.”

Fuck.  I don’t know why but it makes me really hot when men get to the fucking point and say it how it is.

We arranged to meet again.  This is where it got kinda shady.  I may have spent too much time in the shade to be able to recognize it anymore in others.  He insisted we had to meet during daylight.  Morning, specifically.

Despite the fact that I’m not a morning person, I assumed his reasoning for the timeslot was part of his kink.  You can’t stay up for hours getting it on as easily at 1am as you can at say…. 9am.

After the fuckery of never having a solid plan with my main man, I found it refreshing that he was so clear and organized about meets.  He wouldn’t just tell me what time to be ready, he’d tell me how much time he intended to spend as well.

Hey, I get off on organization.  What can I say?

So I bent my rules.  I accepted his reasoning of meeting at my place due to current renovations he was undertaking.  I’d even seen pictures of said renovation.  He was indeed one thorough motherfucker.

In bed, and out.

I decided I liked him enough to gamble.

I said Yes Sir.

 

Well.  Holy fuck, you guys.

He came over with a bag of goodies.  An elderly neighbour may have seen a large whip and crop sticking out of it as he strolled up to my door.  Trust her to be outside right at that very moment…….

She still gives me evil eyes to this day.

I had no goddamn idea what I was in for.  I thought I knew BDSM.  I knew fuck all, really.  I knew how a fuckboy played Dom, I think.    There were dominant aspects to Sir that I found really attractive.  But he played too many stupid mindgames to stay sexy.

I’m still crazy enough to miss him, too.  Somebody slap me.  I’m into that anyway.

Do you know how hard it is to reach climax when you’re too busy thinking about all the cunty things he’s done to you recently, though?  It’s hard, ok.

 

Better get back to Goliath.

Man, he had a huge……………..

I’d never seen anything quite like it in person.  There I was talking a big game, and I suddenly realized I was out of my depth.  “Oh man, I’m gonna choke on this…” He laughed at me.  I liked it.

I had to use two hands just to cover it.  It was a learning experience.  A saucy one.  I haven’t even gotten to the good bit though.  The toys.  He had a magic wand.  I can’t even tell you how magical it was.

I’m not exaggerating when I say I had back to back orgasms for 20 minutes straight…….. three times over.  I think I left my body, and I KNOW I squirted like a motherfucker.

Sorry.  That was graphic.  I’m not really that sorry though because OH MY GOD.  Seriously.  I didn’t even know that was a thing I was capable of.

He did this thing where he would grab me by the throat and gently apply pressure to the sides until I was almost out.  It was THE BEST.  He knew when to let go.  He knew when to slap me, too.. and how hard.

I have a sickness.  It’s the best kind.

Man I was enjoying the shit out of him.  We were so loud.  I did not give a fuck.  I almost got a tiny bit excited thinking I’d met a worthy opponent.

So you can imagine my horror when this absolute piece of shit confessed to me that HE’S MARRIED.  We’d been fucking for a couple of weeks.

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WHAT THE FUUUUUUUCK?!

 

He said they were in an open relationship but when I questioned that, and the fact that he’d lied to me repeatedly and so fucking convincingly…….. his story fell apart.  I’m fairly certain some poor woman caught her husband cheating on her for Christmas.

What a cunt.

You’d better believe I did the noble thing.  I told him to FUCK OFF.  And swiftly removed him from my life.  I did that at the expense of my own pleasure, knowing I’ll probably never find a dick that satisfying again.

I’d rather fuck myself though.  I will not be that woman.

But I can buy a magic wand, right?

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