God damn I love speech impediments | 2016

Sheckshy, sheckshy, sheckshy

Lee you lispy motherfucker, I’m so glad you hit me up again. (Sidenote, speech impediments get me hotter than a burn victim.) I thought I’d lost you. Cut to the chase, he messaged me “shower?” on MeetMe and I opened my availability for him. God damn right you can come over and get naked, don’t mind me in the corner touching myself and breathing heavy. It’s not weird if we don’t make eye contact, right? I guess this means I can stop going through his trash at night and adding to my collection of trophies. Anyway, he heads over from the base and I am on pins-and-fucking-needles awaiting this beauty. He tells me ahead of time he can’t be over all night like last time, and that’s OK- with no alcohol to fuel my sex furnace I’m more than OK with a “quickie” of an hour or so.

I lack the diction to give him his dues. That body is flawless, yo. And… the dick. All that dick. Big, lovely, wonderful dick. Unlike most big dicks, he knows how to use it and is very, very giving with it. Not like he’d have much of a choice, he can’t go any less than 45 minutes before he gets off. A blessing and a curse, but I’ll take it… I’ll take it all night long if you’ll let me. Make me scream bloody murder, the neighbors stopped giving a shit years ago. I’m sure they’re secretly hoping I’m actually being murdered so they don’t have to hear it anymore. At least they stopped calling the cops out of concern, right? This is your heads up as to why when my body is someday found, in my house, years after my death and everybody goes “why didn’t somebody notice!?” I’ve trained them to keep as far away from my windows and my business as humanly possible.

He rolls up in a different truck than last time, and it’s very loud. I know the go-to with vehicles like this is to assume the driver has a small dick and no balls… turns out, he breaks the trend. So we hang out for a bit, catch up. Talk about LSD for a minute, turns out he’s a fan (what a coincidence, I’ve got the hookup and some spare tabs.) We’re casually hanging out on the couch and he’s unbuttoning his shirt. I’m trying not to be too obvious that I want to rip his clothes off with my teeth and lick his abs. WHOA, GIRL. CALM DOWN. He pulls me to him and we start making out. Oooooh yes. His hands are moving all over me and I want to ride that magic stick right meow. This is the worst for me, foreplay is so, so necessary but I get impatient ESPECIALLY when I already know he’s got the bomb dot com in his pants. Gimme gimme gimme! My couch is not made for sex, it’s made for storing my farts; so we head to the bedroom. I’m on the bed, on my knees, he’s standing in front of me and I’m undoing his pants. Off they go and he joins me. I’m next to him, we’re groping and pawing each other and the kissing is phenomenal. I really, really enjoy a good makeout. I remove my shirt and bra, and show him the new additions since our last encounter. Yeah, baby. Look at my pierced titties. He cups them to his mouth and gives me all the attention I so desperately needed. I remove my skirt, we’re both in our underwear making out. As his hand is tugging on mine to pull them over my hip, he tells me “don’t make me rip them off you.” I’m almost tempted to let him… but I don’t like to encourage ruining my clothes for sex. Don’t judge me, I’m fickle. I throw them off and he immediately puts his hand on my hood piercing, rubbing gently but firmly he brings me close to climax twice. He slapped my vulva a bit and I had to stifle giggles picturing Les Claypool slapping some bass for Primus. Edging is not my thing at all, but I don’t really mind it because I still enjoy multiple orgasms later.

His turn. I decide to go down on him, I want him to experience my head game with a clear, sober mentality. The second I start he’s vocal about how good it feels. YEAH, I KNOW. He more than once tried to force me down on it, but I don’t deep throat fleshy submarines. Or rather, I can’t. Wanna watch how easily I vomit? That’s what that equals. I’m not sure if he’s trying to get forceful like this because he thinks I like it, or because he’s into it… I’m not, but I’m not going to make a scene about it. Just tap out and get back to doing it the way I know I’m good at. He even went so far as to flip his leg over my head and tried to throat fuck me. Nope, nice try. IT DOESN’T FIT LIKE THAT. At one point he puts that wonderful member between my girls and gets a few strokes in that way- I’m not super into titty fucking, but I have big tits and they’re pierced so the visual must be nice. He pulls me on top of him and we go at it with me riding. He’s pounding up into me and I’m doing my best to work against his movement to maximize penetration and participate. I’m not a passive partner, I want to fuck you back. He’s dirty talking me a little bit, I dig it. Yes, baby. Yes. I will take that dick. My favorite moment in this position is when he tucked my head under his arm and held onto my torso as he fucked up into me. Angles are important. My ass is sore and red from how hard he was slapping it, and he might’ve popped a blood vessel in his hand. There was some choking, which I greatly enjoy. He flipped me backwards into missionary without having to withdraw, and I lost my mind for a minute. This boy is BUILT for fucking. Every stroke is magic, whether it’s slow and deep, or pummeling me like a jackhammer. I think I’m pulling his hair when he’s driving up into me and up close. Mmmmm I love when I can run my fingers through their hair and grip it. He’s been pulling my hair on and off this whole time; I prefer if they run their fingers deep into my hair down to the scalp to grip it, rather than use my pigtails- he did both.

Turns me over and hits it from the back for a bit. I’m gripping my bedding so tightly my knuckles are white. I bury my face in the comforter a few times to muffle my raucous, I’m afraid I sound like a bleating mule being slaughtered. I’ve heard my sex sounds are enjoyable… I’ve also heard I sound like a Japanese school girl being tentacle raped. Back on my back he tells me he wants to cum. Remembering how he did it last time he slathered me up with lube and had me put my legs together while he penetrated me. I’m too lubey for this to work out this time, so he flips me back over onto my stomach and fucks me with my legs together this way. He slows down and takes his time. This is how he likes it. Later he’ll tell me the rough stuff was all for me, he does it to please his partners, but what he likes is slower. I can feel him shaking as he’s pushing himself into me, he’s muttering “fuck yes,” and I want to make him cum. It takes him a while, and some concentration I’m sure, but he finally whispers the magic words “I’m about to cum.” And cum he did, without stopping. We roll away from each other and he goes to pee, announcing it’s hard to pee with a boner. Good to know!

We hang out for a bit, he needs to run to the ATM to take the LSD off my hands. Catching up he tells me about a sexual encounter he had recently with a girl, completely consensual, where she wanted the “rape experience.” She left her door unlocked, he brought rope and duct tape. I could feel my clitoris give an approving nod to this story. Apparently it was very good for both involved. I have fantasies of this nature, but I’m unwilling to explore them with hookups. He asks if I have any lady friends that might be interested in hitting him up for sheckshy time, and I remind him of my “bomb dick referral list.” It’s a real thing. I’ve already sent his pic to a couple ladies who expressed a desire to get fucked right, by someone who’s not going to be a jerk or a 3 pump chump. This is why you do a good job fucking a hookup. I’ll hook you up, brah. We go for a ride in his loud ass truck, with Wu Tang playing. I dig this dude, he’s so easy to deal with. No expectations from each other, our personalities don’t clash, and we have enough in common to hang out a bit. He said he almost brought his guitar over again… well, maybe there will be a next time and he will. I liked being serenaded by silly songs. Back home we say our goodbye, exchange a big, strong hug, and off he goes. We’re snap chat friends now- my butthole is very expressive. He was naughty and left post for hankey-pankey while on restriction. As I write this I can feel my orthodontic braces fuckin’ up my zen after today’s adjustment, I’m glad I wasn’t aching before he got here. There would be no sucky sucky, and probably won’t be for a week. Also, I’m experiencing an allergic reaction to Trojan condoms that use “pleasure enhancing” lubricants… it’s tender to begin with, and he fucked me until I was raw. I know I have a bag of frozen peas around here somewhere I can sit on.

I was recently lamenting a string of bad hookups that left me very unhappy (oh god, that Marine reservist… just… shamefully bad,) and my friend Viking told me I’ve been burning through fuckboys like a 50cal on cyclic- I’m bound to have a misfire or two. I’m not going anywhere with that, it’s just hilarious.

If you'd like to read more of my stories, I post them publicly on my blog called All The Dicks and you can google it. I'm all about it.