Note: The following is NOT a personal account. I just had to specify this ’cause shit like this does NOT happen to me.
Whatever the female eqivalent of “blue balls” is, I had it last night.
Let me give you some background:
Man in question is 8 years my junior. We’ve had a texting relationship for the last five months, met once for coffee and established a definite mutual attraction. Not much happened that first meeting besides some major flirting, some strong hugs and a pin up against a wall (he pinned me and kissed my neck) wherein I proceeded to push him away because the time and place was definitely not appropriate.
Yesterday, I sent him a text congratulating him on a work accomplishment I found out about (we work for the same company) and it went like this:
Me – Congrats on your win.
Him – How’d you find out?
Me – You know I’m a great investigator. Besides, it’s not a secret. They’ll be announcing it soon.
Him – Well aren’t you the smart li’l cookie?
Me – Yep. Dontcha just wanna eat me all up?
Him – Umhmmmm.
Me – “Umhmmmm” as in “You’re not sure” or “umhmmmm” as in “Yes, yes, yes”?
Him – As in “Yes, uh huh, yes”.
Me – Geezus. I just got a tingle.
Him – Stop it.
Me – Why? Afraid you’ll get turned on?
Him – It’s a little too late for that.
Me – I like that. I could use some of you right now.
Him – Please, use away.
Me – I shoulda let you have your way with me that time we met. I woulda tongue kissed you deep.
Him – Shoulda woulda coulda but you didn’t.
Me – I’ll get you. You know this. All we need is time.
Him – Come on now, you know I always got time for you.
Me – Fine. Friday night. Don’t make plans.
Him – What if I wanted to collect tonight?
Ok so, there it is. In black and white. We made arrangements to meet at the Holiday Inn between our two cities and proceed with said “collection”.
Fast forward a couple of hours, I’m sitting on the bed in my leggings (and my best underwear underneath) and tank top and he’s nestled nicely in between my legs, his back towards me, dressed in basketball shorts and a tshirt. I’m running my nails gently up and down his back, massaging his neck, his shoulders, his temples. I run my fingers down over his face and he catches one in between in his teeth and licks it and bites it teasingly. This is going down so well, I’m thinking. He reaches back and grabs me by the hair and pulls me towards his face and kisses me, deep and hard and passionately.
He turns around and lays me on the bed, kissing and licking and sucking. I moan, he moans, we’re moaning together.
There’s no mistaking the arousal in between his legs. He presses down into my body and makes sure I’m feeling it. It’s exciting and fun and I can’t wait to get naked with this kid. He moves down and bites me, down there. I moan louder and he comes back up and whispers in my ear, “Let me hear you”.
He continues his movements and I say, “If you keep going like this, I’ll come” and he says, “So come”. I’m shaking my head. “No, not like this. Let’s go, I’m ready”. He thrusts and grinds and he’s kissing and pulling my hair and biting my neck and he moans into my ear, “Fuck. Stop it”. I look up into his dark eyes. “Stop it? Why?”
He pulls away and sits on the other bed, covering his face with his hands and adjusting himself uncomfortably.
“This is all too quick. It’s happening too fast”.
I blinked. And blinked again. Then I swallowed.
Let me just note for the record, I was stroked TWICE with the sexual confidence paintbrush. But at that moment right there? I had the insecurity level of a nerdy 16 year old boy asking his crush out to the school dance.
“What’s too fast? This right now or this in general?”
“This in general”.
“I don’t want to date you”, I blurted out regrettingly.
He shot me a look and muttered, “So we won’t date”.
“Do you not fuck?” I asked, confusion apparent on my face.
“Yes, of course I do. But if we fuck, what’s there to look forward to after?”
“Oh I don’t know, more great sex?!?”
“I like what we got. This mystery, this excitement. Why don’t we just make this last?”
I rolled over on the bed and grunted and moaned and contained the feeling inside to just yell out in frustration.
“You’re upset”, he said, more of a statement than a question.
“Well yes. I’m a little upset just ’cause I’m turned the fuck on but it’ll pass”.
I sat up, drank some water (I should have brought the rum like I’d wanted to) and put my sweater on defiantly, making it as if I had been the one to turn him down. My pride was shot here.
*insert a deep, sad, frustrated sigh here*
Help me decipher this situation please. I have never been more confused in my entire sex life.
I know he’s not married (my investigators told me so), he’s not seeing anyone (to the best of my knowledge), he’s definitely not gay so I’m obviously the one with the problem here.
Was I just over expecting? Did I misread the signals? Maybe I should just tone it down and stop assuming everything is about sex?
I can’t believe, not for the life of me, that I got shot down…….