Showing posts with label fucker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fucker. Show all posts

Wednesday, 12 November 2014

LET'S GO!!

Mr. Tuesday could tell something was wrong when he let me in.

HIM:
You alright?

He leaned in and gave me a soft peck on the lips.  God he smelled good.

ME:
I’m fine….I think I need a drink.

HIM:
Sure I’ll get you some water.

Fuck the water.  I needed something stronger.

ME:
No.  I need a REAL drink.

And with that statement I made my way to his living room and got comfortable on the couch and attempted to exhale the nervous tension I was feeling.

HIM:
Babe, it’s almost 2 in the morning I can’t believe you want me to be your bartender now.  I have work in the morning.

His use of the word ‘babe’ made me smile and the fact he sounded playful put me a bit more at ease.  I just continued to giggle relentlessly.

Mr. Tuesday was making his way towards me with a giant glass filled with clinking ice and something alcoholic that was red.  My eyes followed him as he sat perpendicular to me on his sectional.  He placed the drink on the coffee table and softly pressed his lips to mine then kissed my forehead before sinking his back into the couch. 

HIM:
We should be sitting on my bed not on the couch.  What is this?

He chuckled and smirked towards me.  Fuck he was so cute.  I was crazy nervous.  I knew that he could tell that I was, because I could not stop giggling.  His only physical contact with me was that kiss.  He kept his distance.  I could tell he was trying to be respectful or at least attempting to be a VERY patient wolf.  Either way, it was endearing.

I knew that he liked my hair down.  I pulled the hair tie out and shook my hair free so it fell in large soft waves past my shoulders.  His eyes lit up a little when I did that and his smile more devilish.

ME:
Thanks for the drink.

With that statement I took the large glass brought it to my mouth and basically pounded the drink back like it was shot.  Ice cubes and all.  I think he gave me a Caesar but the hell if I knew.  I didn’t taste anything.  I just wanted to drink it as fast as I could in the hopes that it’s effect would work it’s magic to loosen me up a bit.  No pun intended. 

HIM:
Baby!  What are you doing?  You gonna get sick!

I noticed the genuine shock on his face as I took down the beverage as fast as I did.  I also felt the butterflies go haywire in my belly when he called me ‘Baby’.  Cute.  I slammed the empty glass back onto the coffee table and let out a cleansing breath.

ME:
Okay!

HIM:
Okay?

I scooted over closer to Mr. Tuesday, leaned in and kissed him proper with just a hint of tongue.  He searched my eyes to make sure I was really okay with everything. I had stopped giggling all together after I kissed him.  Smirked and straightened my back.

ME:
Okay.  Let’s go!

HIM:
We can sit for a bit if you want.

ME:
NOPE.  Let’s go.  Take me to your bedroom…Right now!

And I stood up.

Oh man the grin he had on his face was priceless as was the chuckle he let out.  I think he was slightly taken aback by my unabashed demeanor.  You have no idea how adorable he looked in his PJs.  Heartstrings pulling.  I had to remind myself to shut that shit down.  NO ATTACHMENT.

He stood up, firmly held my left hand in his—swoon—and gingerly helped me hop down the hallway towards his bedroom.  There were a couple candles already burning in the dimly lit space. 

His bedroom, like the rest of his place was very masculine.  Browns and blacks were the colour scheme again.  His bed took up the majority of the space in his room.  He left the hall light on and there was music playing in the background.  Fuck.  This guy knows how to fully prepare.  I guess when you’re as worldly as him you kind of remember a few things when entertaining ladies.  We stop at the foot of his bed and I let go of his hand.

ME:
Okay.  Which side of the bed is yours?

He points to the left and I make my way to the right side.  He pulls the covers down and waits for me.  I begin unbuttoning my jeans and slip my cardigan off.

ME:
Just so you know I am leaving my panties and top on when I get in bed with you.

HIM:
Aww…seriously?

ME:
YOU…you are in FULL pajama regalia, there is no fucking way I am getting in naked if you’re not.  I’m not wearing a bra so that should make things a little easier.

I slipped into his bed and laid there…like a cadaver waiting for an autopsy.  Hands at my side, covers pulled up to my chest.  He kept his PJ bottoms on but I watched as he pulled his T-shirt off.  My breath hitched just a little.  He was toned.  His shoulders broad his arms defined and his chest smooth.  Fuck.  I’m going to look like shit next to him and that’s when anxiety attack number two came.

I could feel the beverage I just drank fighting it’s way to come up and minute beads of sweat began to form on my forehead and I instantly felt my hands go clammy. 

SHIT.  SHIT.  SHIT.  Not now.  NOT NOOOWW!

I HAD to pull it together or this night was going to crash and burn.  The bed had already dipped signalling that he was getting in.  FUCK!  I raised my right arm and placed my forearm on my forehead for a brief second to attempt to wipe the sweat off before placing that arm behind my head and praying my hair would help absorb the clamminess from that hand.  I gripped the sheets with the other under the covers to alleviate the problem with the left. 

I felt a brief cool whoosh of air against my bare leg and a half when he lifted the covers to get in and he scooped me close to him.  I could feel my heart in my throat.  Which was now parched by the way.  I felt dizzy but at the same time tingly in all the right places.  I had no choice but to rest my head against his smooth soft chest and just let his arms envelope me as I did the same.  My right arm rested just above the waistline of his pj’s.  Christ.

Mr. Tuesday kissed the top of my head, exhaled and whispered a soft “goodnight” against my ear, relaxed and closed his eyes.  He was super observant and was aware that I was nervous.  He knew that I haven’t slept with anyone in two years BUT he had no clue that he was now about to be the second man in my existence to share a bed with.  I was panicking because I was so desperate not to show my inexperience.  I wanted to make sure he was going to be taken care of.  I wasn’t sure how he would take the fact that he would be my number two on my proverbial bedpost.  I’d never reveal that but he may figure that out on his own once things got…er… more heated.

At this point it didn’t look promising.  Don’t get me wrong - feeling his entire body pressed against mine was glorious.  We were in our own little cocoon and I have never felt so safe in my entire life.  Bold of me to say considering that Mr. Tuesday was a practical stranger I met nine days ago and saw for a few hours that one night getting all hot and heavy.

He was ALWAYS a gentleman with me.  Conscious of boundaries.  He was going to let me initiate.  Fucker.  I squeaked out a breathy ‘goodnight’ against his pectoral and gave him a kiss on the base of his throat.  He squeezed me tighter after that.  Sigh.  I felt him against my leg.  He wasn’t fully hard but I was very much aware that he could be in mere seconds.

Okay it was sink or swim time for me.  Don’t think.  Don’t think.  JUST DO!  LIVE BITCH!   JUST FUCKING LIVE IN THE MOMENT!

I’m fairly confident that Mr. Tuesday could literally feel my heart pounding against him like a portable massager.  I closed my eyes for just a moment to gather my shit together and focus. 

I schooched myself up just enough so that when I started to peck at the hollow of his neck, his stubbly jaw and just behind his ear I would end up finishing at his mouth.  I pressed my lips to his and he welcomed me.  Our tongues wrestling against each other in a desperate need to taste.  I instantly felt myself getting wet and now REALLY felt him against me through his pajama bottoms.  The kiss grew deeper and more frantic.  I bit his lower lip and slipped my hand that was resting just above his waistline inside his pajama bottoms.  I lightly grazed him with my fingers and he groaned ever so slightly. 

Mr. Tuesday’s mouth was ravaging my neck with abandon.  I was pretty much on top of him now, my right hand still in his pants palming and cupping him.  He kissed his way down to the valley in between my chest and pulled down one side of my top to gain access to one of my heaving breasts.  The relief and pleasure I felt when his warm mouth made contact with my straining hardened nipple was exquisite torture.  I moaned audibly as he laved me there.  Holy fuck.  I was on the verge of getting off right there just from him doing that!  I was firmly stroking him now inside his pants.

Mr. Tuesday paused for just a moment to help me gain better access to him.  I winced at the lack of contact from his mouth.  He pulled off his pajama bottoms and I now saw exactly what I was holding in my hands…













Thursday, 6 November 2014

Just Jump

Mr. Tuesday calling late wasn’t anything surprising.  Most of our conversations happen after 10pm anyways.  It was really nice knowing there was someone who actually wanted to talk and get to know me.  We were becoming friends, which I liked very much.  Like I said, he was way too charming and funny NOT to want to keep.

We made standard polite chitchat then in his typically charming fashion he cracked one of his terribly cheesy jokes and I cringed and laughed at the same time.  We started talking about our first date and how we were both very remorseful about it ending a little too prematurely.  I told him that he was a great kisser and that I could have done SO MUCH more.  He agreed.  We both sighed at the same time then silence…

In my mind I was recalling that night and imagining all the things that would have happened had I stayed longer.  I pressed my thighs together and felt myself getting tight down there.  I pipe up and say with hopeful questioning…

ME:
I’m okay with the whole friends with benefits thing if that’s what you want. 

HIM:
Yeah, yeah…we could do that.  That’s fine…friends…that mouth of yours….mmm…

Mr. Tuesday’s voice got a little low and husky now.

We sexually teased each other back and forth again about what we liked.  Hot and bothered doesn’t even begin to describe how I was feeling now.  My lower lip was raw from biting and my panties completely soaked.

HIM:
You should come to my place.

He jokingly said.

ME:
Uhhh…I think you should come to mine.  I’ve already been to your place.

HIM:
My place is better.

ME:
WHY?  What is it about a dude’s place that makes it better?

HIM:
It’s just better.  Guys just like being in their space.  Ha…you gonna come over?

I was giggling now.

ME:
NO!  It’s really late but fucker, you made me totally horny, you bastard.

HIM:
Awww…come on….come over…

It was now almost one in the morning.  I knew that it was very late.  I knew that he was completely teasing me about coming over.  I knew that I wanted to see him again to feel his lips against mine - amongst other things on my body. The cogs in my head suddenly spun in a completely different direction and clicked into a place very uncharacteristic of me.  I have no clue what made me so bold to say I what I said next…

ME:
Okay.  I’ll come over.

HIM:
Wait…WHAT?

ME:
I said yeah.  I’ll come over.  I need your address.

HIM:
Are you being serious?

ME:
Yes.  Don’t you want me to come over?

HIM:
Fuck.  Of course!

ME:
Okay.  I’m going to get ready.  See you soon.

I hung up before I could change my mind.  Then I realized that he never gave me his address, so I text him.  He immediately calls me back instead.

ME:
Hey…I need your address fucker.

HIM:
I’m not sure this is a good idea.

ME:
Why?  Is it because it’s so late?

HIM:
No.  I just don’t want to make it weird between us.  The friendship is important to me.

My shoulders slump in disappointment.

ME:
Okay…if that’s what you want.  I don’t want to make it weird between us either but I’m totally okay with friends with benefits…you know that….but that’s fine…it’s all good.

Damn.  Sigh.

HIM:
It’s not that I don’t want you…it’s just…(long pause)…it’s just that I don’t believe it would be respectful because I think the world of you.

Always a gentleman that fucker.

ME:
I’m 100% okay with the friends with benefits thing, but if it will make our friendship weird then don’t worry about it.  It’s all good…I understand.

HIM:
Umm…I think…hmmm…you know what…FUCK IT.  Just come over.  Even if nothing happens we can just cuddle in bed.

HOLY SHIT. 

ME:
Okay…but it’s alright if you don’t want me to come over. It’s totally fine.  I don’t want it to be weird between us.

HIM:
No…no…just come over.  It’s fine.

ME:
Okay text me your address and I should be at your place in about half an hour.

HIM:
Okay.  See ya soon.

HOLY FUCK!  I’m really gonna do this.  I’m going to his place in the middle of the night.  This is fucking CRAZY!  MENTAL!

Okay.  Breathe.  Deep breaths.  You just jumped off a cliff and are waiting to fly or crash.  Which one is it going to be girl?

WAIT!  FUUUUUCCCKKKK!

When one hasn’t engaged in any intimate physical activity in over 2 years there really isn’t a point in doing any kind of maintenance down the vagina way.  Now, with the possibility of that looming in less than an hour, one is in a desperate scramble to correct that severe oversight.

I quickly make my way to my ensuite and pray to God that I have razors.  Please, please…PLEASE!!!  I check the cupboard under the sink and collapse with tears of joy in my eyes when I see that there are still three brand new razors left.

I have never in my life spread my legs open and mowed the lawn so fast down there.  It was almost like watching a time-lapse video in ultra high speed.  I went through all THREE razors! It was THAT bad.  I pretty much shaved an Ewok off my crotch once I looked at the floor of my tub.

I put on a pair of cute panties, fitted dark jeans and a floral print deep V-neck cap sleeve top with NO bra-so classy I know-and a yellow cardigan.   Spritzed some perfume onto my cleavage, piled my hair into a bun and waited for the cab to arrive.

What I was doing to so incredibly uncharacteristic of me I was trying to reason with myself on the ride over.  I completely ignored all warning signs that what I was doing was a mistake.  That I wasn’t ready for anything close to this nature.  That bad shit is gonna come from it.  He’s practically a complete stranger.  I kicked those thoughts under the proverbial rug.  Just fucking live!   Enjoy the moment of spontaneity.  Just fuck it and hopefully him as well.  HA!

I text Mr. Tuesday to let him know I was on my way.

ME:
I am en route…if you feel weird about me coming over tell me now…I’m a big girl…

HIM:
It’s fine…

Phew. 

HIM:
Close?

ME:
I’m approaching your street…

HIM:
Okay…I’ll warn the neighbourhood

ME:
Hahahahaha!!!

HIM:
Snipers…Where are you?!

ME:
Fuck you!!!

HIM:
Ha!

Count on Mr. Tuesday for being consistently charming.  His comical texts put me somewhat at ease.  It wasn’t until I stepped out of the cab and walked into his building I began to have a SERIOUS anxiety attack.  

As I rode the elevator up to his floor I began to feel extremely light headed and began to dry heave.  Fuck me.  Not now!!!  I hobbled out and leaned my forehead against the cool metal doorframe of the elevator.  I closed my eyes and fought back the need to vomit.  I took four big breaths...in and out...then took four more, wiped the sweat off my brows and upper lip, gulped down the bile, straightened my back and tried to look as composed as I could.  I turned the corner and made my way down the hallway.

Mr. Tuesday opened the door to his place when I was about halfway down the hall.  I felt my chest tighten just a little bit when I saw him.  He looked adorable all barefoot in his grey plaid pajama bottoms and fitted grey T-shirt, eyes bright with an impish smirk on his face. 

HOLY FUCK.   This is really happening.

I giggled out a “Hey…” As he stepped aside and let me in...