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Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Shit. Damn. Motherfucker!

First of all, let me take a moment to acknowledge that it has been dick long since I posted and for that, I apologize. Plenty of personal shit going on..yadda, yadda, yadda. Now, I'm back! And with that, let the fuckery begin...


I met this dude through professional connections. I had acknowledged his sexiness a while ago, but since he was a colleague of sorts, I never flirted with him or otherwise paid him much attention. One day, we were at a "work thing" and by the end of the day, he had asked for my number. Later that night, he called and asked for something else. I was a little taken aback by his forwardness, but I definitely found him to be a smashable candidate, so I played along to see where it would go.

We made plans to hang out on the weekend, and we did. Had very stimulating (non-sexual) conversation...the guy was intelligent, mature, single and hot as fuck! Things were definitely looking up. By the time we retired to the bedroom, I was mentally smitten and ready to see if he would measure up in bed. And...sweet jesus...did he measure up! He started by making me strip for him and then had me bend over so he could suck the "what the fuck?!" out of my pussy. He was using a glass dildo-like object in my pussy while licking it and then he moved up to my asshole and proceded cause me to be numb from the waist down. Just when I was close to collapsing, he flipped me over and attempted to go back in. I had to buy myself some time to regain my composure, so it was the perfect opportunity to have him lay on his back and whip out my fantastic fellatio skills.

Not to pop my own collar *pop, pop*, but I know how to suck some dick. I was so gone from the awesome head game he just put on me, I got more into it than usual and he was more than vocal with his appreciation of my skills. After what seemed like 30 minutes sucking his dick, as well as returning the ass-licking favor, he pushed me off of him and pulled me off the bed. He pushed me up against the wall and kissed me before forcefully pushing me back onto the bed. He made me lay there wondering for a few, long seconds before he rejoined me and began fucking. the living shit. out of me. It continued on like that for hours....

The next day, and every day after, he would call in the morning. Email throughout the day and call at night. We talked about sex, relationships, everyday shit..blah, blah, blah. It was cool. Now, when I first met him, because of his forwardness, I had assumed that this guy was trying to be a smash-buddy. That would have been absolutely fine by me. But, the way dude presented himself was as if he was trying to explore the options of something more. No labels had been established, though he did offer the information that I was the first chick he slept with in nearly a year (which I didn't believe at the time, and still don't believe now) and even went so far as to send me song lyrics and shit trying to get in my head.


So, about a week in, I started raising my eyebrows about this dude. He had all the appearances of a potential "Mr. Right," but some things just weren't adding up. One of those things was when I called him for an unexpected "lunch" date and I went to his house for the first time. Aside from the fact that he didn't show me around the place, he also had "plumeria" scented hand wash and lotion in his guest bathroom. Now, I appreciate a pimp's game as much as a fellow pimp can, but, "Dude, you expect me to believe bitches ain't coming over here on the regular? Or that your mysterious ass don't live with some chick?" I asked him about it, he said it was "for the guests." Right, nigga. Let's just fuck so I can get back to work. Again, not knocking the hustle, knocking the liar.

Now, the next few incidents are things that I usually would have issued a Pink-slip for immediately. He made arrangements to come see me on three separate occasions and didn't call or show. I know, I know. This is when I should've told his ass to kick rocks, but the dick, coupled with the glimmer of hope, had me a bit off my game. Each time, he gave me some bullshit, eyebrow-raising excuse that me (and my tribunal of vixen friends) couldn't quite accept as legit. I was about done with his ass. At this point, there was one good week and one shitty week and I was not trying to roll the dice on the third week. But I did. Fuck. I did.


So...the perp sends me an email, pesudo-apologizing for his actions (but not really) and suggesting we spend a couple days together to get to know eachother better and putt the aforementioned shitty week behind us. At this point, I knew that there was a 50/50 chance this dude was going to further piss me off, but I was willing to take that gamble in attempt to fuck this dude and his magnificent dick one last time for the road. By now, I had already surmised that he was not potential partner material and I just wanted a nice fuck-filled weekend of fun and no dramatics. Not what happened.

He tells me he will arrive by 9. At 10:30, when he hadn't, I was already getting flashbacks to the previous week and was calling him to tell him to forget it and lose my number. He didn't answer. Then called 15 minutes later to say he was nearby and would be there shortly. By 11:30, I was fuming and I was prepared to tell him as soon as he got to my door to go back to his car and go the fuck home. But when he called to say he was downstairs, it was obvious he had been dropped off. I totally could've still kicked him out, but I was drunk, high and horny. Fuck it, I said.

He came in and very arrogantly glossed over his lateness, even insinuated that I was being ungrateful to the effort he made to come see me. (Right, you had to get a ride and shit...which I didn't know...because you never said you didn't have a whip...why? Because you are a liar) Sorry, I digress. Anyways. Now, I'm pissed. So I take a pill to relax, have some more liquor and spend the rest of the night fucking dude. It was good, but not nearly as good as the first time. Which, upon reflection, is because he had already revealed himself to be a major asshole, and not the sexy kind.

Everything came to a head the next day. We had fucked and sucked a little in the morning. His luggage and printed out party schedule made me think this guy really was planning to stay the whole weekend. I was trying to see if I could overlook his irreconcilable flaws, and just fuck the weekend away, but of course...he had to take ya girl there. Long, headache-inducing story cut short, after I had cooked us both breakfast, we got into an arguement that started over something minor--me telling him to log off of my computer. He not only ignored my request (as he sat there chatting it up with chicks on Facebook) but then told me, in an unacceptably loud voice, "What you need to do is eat your breakfast and get on the computer later! I'm doing something and what you have to do isn't that important!" He went on to call me selfish and I was thinking, Somebody please slap me because I KNOW this fool isn't a) disrespecting me in my house and b) sitting here eating food I cooked, using my computer and otherwise soaking up all my fucking hospitality without having the decency to come correct! I knew I was getting nowhere with this arrogant, audacious, insolent, rude and undeservedly cocky dude so, I made him an offer he couldn't refuse: "If you think I'm selfish. Or any other unfavorable characteristic. You can pack your shit up and get the fuck out of my house." Again, if he hadn't gotten dropped off, I would have put his ass out after we fucked the night before. And I told him that. He got up and didn't say a word as he put his plate in the kitchen, went in the room to gather his things, and left.

Good riddens, motherfucker!

Hey readers, tell me what you think about my latest fuckery-laced sexperience. Did ya miss me?

Now in the spirit of this story, please enjoy the smooth sounds of D'Angelo's "Shit, Damn, Motherfucker"