I Did a Bad, Bad Thing.

Ok, so I was dumb. Last night I met the guy I couldn’t get rid of for a drink. I took the bestie that I have never had a dalliance with along with me. I went to an old bar that I used to work in, and I bumped into some people I knew. You would think that this would be protection enough, but no, my vagina apparently had other plans.

It was the bottles of bud that did it. I’m not sure how many I had, but I knew it was too many on an empty stomach. What started out as being friends meeting for a drink and a chat, turned out to be the guy I couldn’t get rid of coming back to my place, us having pretty damn amazing sex, and me thinking I may have just lead him along.

Last night, when he was back at mine, things went a bit nuts. He had asked me to do something on his phone for him, and as I did so, I happened to come across his text messages. From the names that the most recent contacts/text messages were given, it would seem as if he were back on the dating website where we actually met, and talking to other women. This meant to me that he was on his way to getting over me, and we could actually just be friends with benefits. Oh no. This was wrong. I am a crazy person.

So, first of all I got jealous of him texting these other girls. Oh yes – the “I don’t want him, but I don’t want anyone else to him” girl scenario that we (or at least I) seem to do so well, popped it’s head up again.

Secondly, I started a mini argument where I accused him of only meeting me for a drink for sex. This may have been my secret intention, but he doesn’t know this.

Thirdly, it ended up with him wanting sex, me having a completely unrealistic huff, and us fighting and having crazy rough sex that blew my freaking mind.

I think I squirted last night. Let me set the scene – I was on my back, my legs were wrapped around his waist, he was pounding into me with such force, I came, squirted, and ended up splashing my own face with the stuff…. How the fuck did it travel that far up my body? I blame the hard orgasm, and his intense thrusting for it. However, it created a catchphrase for the day – “I think I just came on my own face!”

I struggled at first of course – he had offended me, (for a reason that was unknown to him) so I said no to sex. He doesn’t like no, so he grabbed my wrists, pinned them back onto the bed, and dry humped against me. It turns out; this actually turns us both on. A lot. So, some heavy petting, a lot of bad kissing, (I actually think his technique has improved some)and serious dry humping later and I realized I should probably go have a shower and sort my incredibly hairy vagina out.

A shower later, and we resumed the order of the evening – I was soon pinned to the bed, and he was soon thrusting against me. This resulted in the tearing off of each other’s clothes, and a fuck that quite frankly, blew my mind. He was hard, then he was soft, and then he was even harder, and then I came, and then I was on my front and he was lifting my ass in the air, and then we were cuming together, his groans of release mingled with my cries of painful pleasure. It was an intense night.

He woke me up at 5am this morning again, which pissed me off, but I let him carry on. By the time I was awake and realized the time, and the fact that I had awoken to a cock inside me, he was almost finished so I just let him carry on. I may have had a cheeky orgasm at this point, but I was mad at him for waking me up at 5 in the morning AGAIN when I had early work, so I never let on that he made me cum.

It was after I had gotten to work that I realized my mistake – he was texting a lot more, he was pressuring me to see him tonight, and getting stroppy when I said no. I managed to put him off until later on tonight where he told me that he was drunk and on his way over. This, of course, resulted in a rather pissed off conversation where I told him that turning up at my house was unacceptable.

He seems to have got the message for now, but it worries me – I’m probably going to sleep with him again; it’s too good not to. He’s going to develop feelings, or at least further develop the ones that he already got, and I’m going to find myself in a situation I can’t get out of again.

Damn my stupid vagina. And then say men think with their genitals!

6 thoughts on “I Did a Bad, Bad Thing.

  1. If you keep writing about these hot encounters with such fervor, you may have to change the name of your blog. But be careful, set limits, and be strong enough to walk away if/when the need arises.

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