As I mentioned in my previous post, I invited Ex-BFF over on Saturday night. Between the few hours when I had invited him over and when he actually arrived, I had called my best friend to get her advice. I told her the situation and asked her if she thought it would be shitty of me to hook up with Ex-BFF (who she knows) when I talk to Rocker like I do (who she does not know, nor does she know we "met" online). She asked if Rocker and I were getting to the point where we think we might become official or if we were building up trust. I really didn't know how to answer that. I guess we've been building up trust, but we could both be fucking each other over and neither one of us would be the wiser. So, I told her that we're pretty casual, just flirty, nothing had happened. "Well, go have fun then. But, I know you've always liked ex-BFF and everything and you can't help who you like, just don't get hooked on him. You can do so much better," she said. I just kind of laughed and said thanks, but I suppose I felt the same way.
Earlier that day I had been feeling like shit with a sore throat and head cold type thing. Knowing this, I still had ex-BFF come over. He showed up and we kind of awkwardly bullshitted about nothing important. I hadn't seen him in about two years and I was disappointed in his appearance. He had lost a lot of his muscle mass and looked like he had shrunk a good three inches, but I suppose that could be just an illusion from losing his muscle. I sized him up and wasn't really feeling it, so I just thought fuck it, put in a movie and lay down on my bed with him.
I was laying with my head on his chest and his one arm cradled around my neck and shoulder. He started stroking my chest and inched his way not so subtly to my tits. I got a little wet while he was doing this, but found it all kind of awkward. I mean, this was the same kid that I had watched eat glue when we were in 4th grade. The one whose poems I had to proof-read for dumb spelling mistakes before he would give them to a girl he liked throughout junior high.
I put my hand on his thigh as he turned me towards him and started kissing me. He wasn't a bad kisser, but again, I couldn't help the image of him gulping down some Elmer's from popping into my head or various other unappealing things I had seen him do throughout our years of knowing each other.
We continued to kiss as he pulled my skirt up a little (not that it needed much help, it was damn near exposing me already) and moved my panties to the side as he started to stroke my clit. A little sidenote: Why does every boy in my age group think that they can just start rubbing my clit like they're trying to get out a fucking stain in their mom's white carpet? It's painful and pisses me off when they do that. I always have to tell them go softer, and this may scare them or something because then they'll start finger fucking me and thus totally forget about my poor little clit. She's never treated right, dammit.
Anyway, he started fingering me. He did it roughly, very roughly and I arched my back and reached my one arm behind me to grab the headboard of my bed. "You like that, baby?" he asked. Well, I don't really know yet I thought. I just sort of nodded and kissed him again as he kept going. "Want me to go deeper?" He asked. This got a response out of me. I moaned and told him yeah as he plunged his fingers in me. This went on for a little while but came to a stop when he asked if I wanted his cock. Fuck, I really hadn't thought about us having sex. Did he really think that I was going to give it up that easily? Thinking about my response now kind of makes me laugh, but what the hell. I told him no and kind of awkwardly laughed as I rolled on top of him and asked him if he wanted me to suck him off. He responded by taking off his boxers.
His dick was average, not really disappointing or thrilling, just kind of eh. I should have known that I wouldn't have been able to give my usual mindblowing beej since I wasn't feeling well, but I didn't expect it to be this bad. I could barely keep going for more than 25 seconds at a time before my saliva and his pre-cum would overflow my mouth and need to be swallowed down while I took a breath as my nose was completely stuffed with really attractive snot and sickness boogies.
I made him switch positions so that instead of us both lying on the bed and me propping myself up, he was sitting on the edge of the bed and I was squatting on the floor. This didn't get much better for me and I'm sure it wasn't that great for him. I didn't really care at this point and I was amazed at myself. Why the fuck do I want this to be over so quickly? I kept repeating that as my body just wanted to stop. I'll be the first person to tell you that I love to give head. There's nothing bad about it and I really like making a guy go crazy over my mouth. I just wasn't into it this time. Mostly because I was sick, I think, but maybe also because I wasn't just flat-out super attracted to him like I thought I would be.
Mid-way through he asked me if I wanted him to titty-fuck me. I shook my head no. What the fuck is wrong with you?! my mind screamed. You love this shit! I know, I know. Calm down, you bitch. I was having a mental war as he told me that he was getting close. I tried to at least make the climax good, but I think it fell flat. He came and everything, but I just didn't really feel any excitement oozing off of him like most guys do. Maybe he's just a quiet cummer. I really hate that. Make some noise, fucker, appreciate what I'm doing for you with a moan or something.
When he was done and after I had swallowed and wiped my mouth, we lay back down and I just kept thinking to myself how awful that was. Not that I was disgusted by it or anything, but I was highly disappointed in my less than stellar performance. Part of me wanted to scream out that I was sick and couldn't breathe out of my nose, but I didn't. It would be an easy exit if he thought that I wasn't good at giving head; I probably wouldn't have to worry about him calling me for a late night hookup if that was the case.
We continued watching the movie and he asked me if I had any food. Ummm..what..the..fuck? I told him I had some cereal that he could have, but that was about it. He ate the last of my Cinnamon Toast Crunch as I lay in bed, sending a text to Rocker. Rocker didn't reply and I didn't try again. I wanted to be proactive about him contacting me though, so I suppose that's why I texted him in the first place, so that if he called or something I would be prepared. When the movie was over, ex-BFF asked me how my schedule looked and I vaguely answered. He mentioned that he'd probably stop by when he was out here now and again and told me to give him a call sometime. We briefly kissed and hugged as he left.
I closed the door and rolled my eyes as I changed, taking off my skirt and wet panties and putting on the crappiest most comfortable sweatpants that I have. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my hands. I could smell him on me and I wanted the evidence gone. On the walk back to my dorm, one of my residents asked if that was my boyfriend. I shook my head and kept walking, not wanting to explain and not wanting them to ask any questions that I didn't feel like answering.
I laid back down on my bed and found that I was still wet. Even now I'm a little wet writing about it, but I don't think anything of it, at least not as anything more than a normal physical reaction to hooking up with someone. I knew when I closed the door on ex-BFF that I wouldn't call him and that I probably wouldn't answer his calls. I know my best friend will call and ask me how it went and she'll be satisfied that there is absolutely no chance that I could ever become attached to ex-BFF. She'll thank the Lord and tell me that I can do much better and that at least he is out of my system for good and I'll have to agree with her.
I'm a little disappointed that all my years of having a crush on him meant nothing when I actually got the opportunity to get into his pants. Maybe I was expecting this great spectacle of passion because of the sexual tension that had been pent up between us for years. Whatever it was that I was expecting didn't happen, and although I realize that it's okay to be disappointed sometimes, there's still a feeling of it should have been more or meant something more. But there's not and it didn't mean anything.
At least I know that I have nothing to tell Rocker. When I talked to Rocker yesterday and today, I didn't even think about what had happened with ex-BFF. It was a non-issue in my mind. Is that terrible? I mean in all technical ways of thinking, I didn't cheat on Rocker. I would be pissed if he did the same thing to me, but I can't wrap my mind around the notion that what I did was truly wrong, especially after its unsatisfying outcome. The only time I thought about it in regards to Rocker was when he said something about being too nice to people and I told him that I'm always a bitch to people so that I get what I want. I had a mental flash of me looking up into ex-BFF's eyes as I had his cock in my mouth. I shook my head, shaking the image out of my mind like a fucking etch-a-sketch.
I'm still waiting to meet Rocker but I'm trying not to put any expectations on it. Great if things work out and we become this happy schmoopie-pie couple, but if things don't work out, then I don't want to be disappointed.
In other news, I had this fucking great dream last night thanks to my consumption of Nyquil. Nyquil fucks with my already fucked up dreams. I mean, if I had a menage a trois with Mr. Freeze and Batman in a normal dream (Mr. Freeze was amazing in my dream by the way, and no I did not get ice burn or anything) then how can a dream be more fucked up? Well, enter Nyquil and throw a big orgy into my subconscious. There were five total people in the orgy of my dreams, including me. No one that I knew, but I sure as hell got to know them in my dream. It makes me wonder about the meaning of dreaming about having orgies and stuff. I have had a bunch of menage a trois dreams, but nothing like this one with dicks, ass, and tits all over the freaking place. I was like a kid in a candy store if the candy store was really selling gorgeous boobies and nice, hard cock.
I may be a tad crazy, but that's life, folks.
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1 comment:
just found your blog. very cool.
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