that little fucking game changer [part I]
Listen to this song while you read.
I met the similarly attractive fellow I’ll call Ben Kweller (classic song by him here - lyrics include “sex reminds her of eating spaghetti”) on my birthday last year at an electronic dance music event. I noticed him at the coat check, tall lean red head in a white v-neck tee, complete with a scruffy beard and glasses. Nerdy, computer science major. Turned out we had mutual friends as tends to be unavoidable in a small town.
My night was weird in many ways…I freaked out about getting older while sitting in a washroom stall on MDMA that I probably shouldn’t have taken in the first place. I narrated my entire life back to myself, from birth to present moment. Try it sometime. I called some friends, eventually came to some positive conclusions after getting my crazy out. Emerged at 11:50pm, cheered for myself at midnight. The psuedo-famous DJ told me happy birthday, so that was pretty awesome. Shortly after I started grinding with Ben, who was meek but cute just like Ben Kweller strokes my crush on those types I desire to corrupt.
He wasn’t a particularly good dancer. Normally that means I would have brushed him off already. But his hands roamed at the right times to the right places. He asked if I wanted to get out of there and I told him straight out that I would love to, but I had started my period that afternoon so it would be a no-go. He looked disappointed, I felt kind of bad…but who cares, it was my birthday. I was the one unable to get laid on my fucking birthday. A half hour later he approached the topic again and told me that he didn’t care, we could just have some fun anyway. I liked that answer and we peaced to my apartment in the pouring rain.
Since I was on MDMA we talked for a while, my mind was cycling so fast. Then he put his juicy lips on mine and I was quickly wrapped around his body. He pulled off my shirt and took my breasts in his hands, kneading them with obvious and boyish excitement. He leaned me back on the couch and let his tongue do the talking, taking me along with him. He was perceptive despite intoxication as he pinched and flicked my nipples, a surefire way to make me gasp.
He took my jeans off and almost my underwear too, but I gently reminded him to leave those on. I love being naked in front of a man I just met. I love watching his reactions to my body…the first time he grabs onto my ass and his dick visibly hardens. The first time he kisses my chest and realizes how soft my skin is. The first time he pushes his body against my naked flesh and his eyes close hazily. It was so hot and I kept on pushing him to touch me more until I got frustrated enough to drag him into the bedroom.
Unbuckled and unzipped, I was satisfied. Larger than average, clearly not going to give me the same frustrations I had with the last man in my bed (cough Kevin Baird cough). But we couldn’t that night so we grinded and humped and squirmed and sighed about how he couldn’t plow into me. I told him teasingly that since he couldn’t reciprocate, I wasn’t sure if I was willing to blow him. He grabbed my shoulder, looked straight at me, and said with candid tone, “What if I promise that I owe you one next time?” It was too well played to turn down.
I tongued up his shaft, lubricating my way to the head. Then my mouth darted to his balls, rolling around his sack while imagining how they would slap against my ass if he were doing me doggy style right now. I wanted him to penetrate me so badly, so I focused my energy back on his dick and swallowed him over and over again, pretending my throat was the back of my pussy. He moaned and writhed, which pushed me to go further. After much effort, I told him I was done for now and he pulled my body up next to his. I like to keep control.
We went back at it again shortly after, needing a round two of foreplay to feel full. He left around 4am, I laughed at how I gave a blowjob on my birthday instead of receiving. Typical me. At least I got free drinks and cookies the next day.
All week my brain was a scrolling marquee: sex sex sex sex sex. I had to write this super theoretical essay that week and couldn’t keep my head in the game. He sent a nice text on Thursday asking how my work was going. That honestly didn’t help. Finally Saturday rolled around, he was going to call me when he was done edward fortyhands at a party across the street (ohhh university…). Around 11:30pm I decided to trim up and take a long shower. I keep my waterproof vibrator in the shower at all times for easy access, but I stopped myself from using it anywhere besides my nipples. He had called while I was mentally torturing myself. He sounded really relieved when I beckoned him over.
He entered, took off his jacket and hoodie, wearing no shirt underneath. We talked for a long time, normally if I’m horny there’s no way I can wait that long. He didn’t show it, but he said he felt pretty damn drunk so I wanted to give him some time to sober up so we’d be on the same level. He really couldn’t stand it since I was only wearing a revealing slip. I love teasing, so I had fun while I waited it out…stretching my smooth legs out on the coffee table, allowing the bottom half of my ass to be exposed when I got up off the couch for water. My pussy moistened instantly when it finally landed on the bulge in his jeans.
We tossed around making out and I pulled off the thin layer. He’s 6’3” and easily lifted me up, placing me down on the bed before practically jumping for my tits. As he roughly handled each one, I slid off his pants. Black boxer-briefs, classic! His cock was trying to escape, so I stroked him while he grazed his teeth against my tits. Then he pushed me down and smiled, “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget.”
Stay tuned for part II!