I Fucked Him

I sent him a text message from the bar, saying how bored I was and how much I would rather be fucking.  He texted back, so I knew he was paying attention.  I told him I wanted a ride home from the bar, so he left his friend’s place and came and picked me up.

I’d had a couple of drinks, and I was feeling unsatiated (I hadn’t been fucked in hours!) and bored.  I wanted to fuck.  I desperately wanted to fuck.  I’ve been fantasizing about fucking him for days.

He picked me up a block away from the dyke bar.  I was a bit loaded, and he was sober.  He drove me to my place, I flirted the whole way home.  I told him to come inside with me – we went inside.  I told him, I told him as much as I could: sex work; safer sex gear; herpes; queer leatherdyke.  He accepted it, not even a fucking problem at all.  He has a wife, and he possibly has herpes too.  They have an open relationship, it’s all cool.

I stripped down in the living room, we moved to the bedroom – I fucked him there.  First he grabbed one of my gloves and slipped it on to give me some sadistic fingerfucking, and then I grabbed a condom, sucked him off, and climbed on top.

"I’m gonna come"
"Don’t you fucking dare – don’t disappoint me the first time we fuck.  I’ve been fucking women for a year, don’t fucking disappoint me."
"Yeah, no pressure there…"
"That’s right.  Just don’t fucking come."

If he came, he came when he went to the washroom.

He’s evil.  He pulls my hair, pulls my hands to restraint with one hand, crushes me with one move.  He makes me gasp for air, makes me shut up when I’m being a cocky motherfucker, and disables me with one fell swoop when he wants to.  He punched me in my sternum repeatedly to demonstrate the "one inch punch".  He held me down on the bed with a leg and a hand as he spanked me with his other hand.  He vented briefly about the community, the community that I have ranted about so incredibly frequently.

I love it when people make me question who the fuck I am.