After my weekend at the party and the rope munch, it was another fortnight before I could scratch the itch that I had been craving since my half-term breakaway. This gave me enough time to restock my condom stores. My longing to be well and truly fucked did not subside during the four weeks. Perhaps it was due to the timing. I had finished withdrawing from one set of anti-depressants and found myself in limbo while I waited for the new ones to build to a therapeutic level. Either that or my libido had just been woken up in the club with my friend.
Well, there is never any shortage of men wanting to get their end away on there, but I was looking for something specific. This was someone I wanted to meet for one evening of passion, they had to have the required equipment. It took a while to be chatting to who I thought was the right person. He was younger than I would generally go for, but he was good-looking, could form sentences, and was very well endowed. We chatted, and when he asked what I had in mind I told him exactly what I wanted. And that he wouldn’t be going anywhere near my cunt until I had crested three times.
The evening came, and he text, asking me to collect him from the train station. I got to my local one and asked where he was. He was on his way to his local one. In the next town. 9 miles away. By this point, I was already out of my house, and horny as hell. I hot-footed it down the road and waited in the car park at the station. When he climbed in next to me he was exactly as I had imagined. He was good-looking, just looking at him turned me on. And he was good company, we had a decent chat on the drive home. I made coffees before guiding him upstairs. We were both eager to get the evening’s orgasms underway.
We had a lot of fun, well I did. Each orgasm was powerful and delicious. I think he would agree with the latter too. But when it was time for him to provide the required cock, after those three orgasms, we hit a stumbling block.
I don’t imagine this is an unfamiliar scenario for many of us, but it had been many years since I had run into someone who point-blank refused.
The 4.5-week wait for a quality fuck had felt long, and if he didn’t wind his neck in I would not be getting what I wanted. I laid down my expectations. “You can either put on a condom and bury yourself inside of me, or you can sit in the corner over there (pointing to a far corner of the room) and wait while I make myself come another three times.” I imagined he would change his mind and sheath himself while I took care of my needs.
Once I had achieved my next 3 orgasms, he was still steadfastly refusing to cover up and so I made myself a cup of tea, and offered him a cup of coffee. I was cross, having waited so long for this and being let down by this silly boy and his desire for bareback.
Once I had finished my drink he got himself dressed and asked for a lift back to the train station. I gave him directions back to the station in town and bade him farewell, suggesting that he could smoke on the walk there. The frustration was just so cross-making!
Again, I was wrong!
The following day came a verification request on the site. I wouldn’t be giving him one as he had not met my expectations. There were options to leave negative feedback, report him or ignore his request. I chose the last option. Then, a week or so later, he calls just before my children’s bedtime. “I can’t talk long, what do you want?”
He leaped into a tale of sadness and despair. His last meet before me had actually been with a friend of his. A girl is a few years younger than him. She had just messaged to tell him she was pregnant. She hadn’t been on the pill as he thought. He felt as if she had trapped him! I think he was expecting sympathy or some such nonsense. Instead, he got this question from me:
“What has this taught you?
He couldn’t answer the question. Had no way to wrap his head around the answer that was so obvious to me.
“Perhaps you should consider wearing a condom in future?”
At this point, I had to go. I had children to put to bed and had no desire to listen to his complaining about a self-made problem. After a few more text messages he ended up being blocked on any possible platform that he could reach me. It didn’t stop him from deleting his account and setting up new ones, but he wouldn’t be getting anywhere with me. He’d had his chance and blown it.
Originally posted on A Leap of Faith.
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