Make Me Cum // 0:12 – 0:19

After the dizzyingly good experience that was B, I was anxious to see what else was out there. If I could find one of him, I could find more just as easily, right? God, I’m a fucking idiot sometimes.

Enter the very big dicked Mr. Mackey. We met him on our usual site & chatted for an evening the same week we were due to meet up with B. Set a meet up date for the following weekend & once the day came I got all prettied up and we headed out the door. No real communication or interest shown on his part (or mine really). Big dick meet eager, free pussy. You know the drill.

After the first person to random ditch out, I was nervous. I knew that was just part of doing this, most people talk a big game and very few can back it up. Not everyone can fuck a total stranger while her happy husband watches and that’s okay, we’re not expecting everyone to. But let me say this now, if it isn’t something you think you’ll be okay with or even get into, do not fuckin’ do it. You’re gonna have a bad time even if you are able to cum and I think Mr. Mackey is a prime example of that.

The first half of the night is honestly the most interesting or it was for me at least. We showed up at the spot he was meeting us a couple hours early & had dinner and drinks. Eager to test out my new found freedom and not thinking Mr. Mackey would actually show, I stumbled my way to the brave/stupid level of being drunk and started to eye fuck anything in the room that seemed of interesting. But I’m sure it came off more Ted Bundy than Peg Bundy because I’m a little rusty from years in monogamy. Up until a month or two ago, I didn’t even pick up on when I was being checked out in public.

The night wears on, I realize to my dismay I’m bad at IRL hitting on men AND women & Mr. Mackey keeps pushing us off. He’d been at work all day before and then was meeting us so we tried to cut him as much time slack as possible. Finally, he shows & seems…completely unsure of what he’s doing there with us. I ask him what has become the standard test questions: who is your favorite comedian and least favorite serial killer. He gives me what I’d now consider non-passable answers, but I’m drunk enough & he’s cute enough to where I don’t care.

We move from the original bar to one that’s has extremely unique décor that I love. Dollar bills stapled everywhere & a dive bar vibe to die for. I sip my drink occasionally looking up into a sky full of capitalism and excess while we exchange some awkward small talk. The night wears on, he tries his best to keep up in conversation, but extremely apparent (to me) if we were meeting up for a normal date, I’d have called it quits by now. But I’m more than willing to put aside almost any personality flaws for a big dick or pretty lady. I’d like to say this isn’t a mistake I’ll make again, but I think we both know that’s a fuckin’ lie. To put a spin on the immortal words of John Waters: sometimes boring & cute is enough.

Sipping on the last of my Screwdriver from the Dollar Den, I ask if he’d like to get a hotel & have some fun. That was the whole point of this exercise, wasn’t it? He agrees and we stumble out the door. I pull him to the side and step up on my tippy toes to make out with him while W walks off to get the car ready. I’ll give Mr. Mackey props, personality wise we were the non-attracting kind of opposites, but the way he kissed made me dripping wet. Any apprehension I had left my head & off to the hotel we went.

He was gentlemanly enough to stop by & grab some more booze for him and me. And decent booze at that. We meet up and crash into the room, W getting his normal spot ready and turning on the TV. After the first experience W had, he knows now that every hotel I’m in is going to get the full vocal effect of me getting my brains fucked out if it’s done right and he wants to make sure none of our temporary neighbors think I’m being murdered. He wisely turns on the TV to Comedy Central a.k.a. The South Park Channel & cranks the volume. I was so ready to finally be fucked senseless that I didn’t even notice at first.

Clothes were thrown to the wayside, & I finally got to see what I was working with in person. It’s glorious. A fat, long, meaty cock for me attempt to wrap my holes around. Wrapped & ready to go I climb on top & squish it into me. I start riding away, grinding my hips until I get closer and closer to cumming. I’ll admit, at this point, I’m not really paying attention to him. It’s very clear, this is a O.a.D experience, but if you’re this far into it & the only problem is the guy seeming vaguely uninterested, you got to see that shit through. I pound my way to loud, orgasm on top, thumping my ass into his thighs while cartoon Mr. Mackey lectures the boys about some dumb thing or another on the TV. I feel the familiar wave of good brain chemicals sweep down my spine & into my needy little body and I start urging him to cum. Begging for it. He grabs my hips & pushes into me, I can feel the little condom nub rub against the bottom of my clit. I giggle & climb off, out of breathe after having given my thighs the work out of their life.

I collapsed on the bed besides him, took a sip of my drink and realized: this guy is definitely out of his element. Post-nut clarity as it’s finest. I do my best to work another play session out of him, but either the beer he grabbed hit him harder than he thought or the fact another dude was watching him pound a chick finally crept it’s way inside of his head and took root. Maybe it finally dawned on him that he was balls deep in a girl who’s test questions had been: his favorite comedian and least favorite serial killer & maybe, just maybe, post-cum he realized that was definitely not his bag.

After a small break, I had him gloved up again & back on top. From W’s account of things I was moan-yelling at him to go harder/faster (which with that cock, he definitely could have) & he just sorta…didn’t. W thought it was hilarious, my pussy on the other hand did not. After that I threw in the towel & accepted my fate of a single orgasm. I mean, it was a good one, but I’m greedy. Even if he just wants me to use him like a human dildo & starfish the whole time, I’m still down to try and get mine more than once.

Playtime ended disappointingly fast after that. I gave him one more regrettable kiss goodbye & made an attempt to make nice then we got the fuck out of dodge & snuck back into the house around 3-4 am. The next day I went to send him a thank you message & found us blocked. Everywhere. I laughed my ass off and went about the rest of my day secure in the knowledge that while he may not have said anything, I successfully picked up on the vibe that he was not interested. Kudos to my socially delayed ass on that one to be honest. From the being a woman who can’t pick up on when men are hitting on her to being able to vibe check a casual sex encounter, I’d like to think I’ve come a long way for such a short time.

Like I said earlier, now a days I try to look less for dick size & more for personality. Try being the keyword, I’m still a dirty size queen slut at heart. However the knowledge I had before this still stands true: sex is so much better when you can at least tolerate each others company outside of fucking. And casual fucking is way more fun when both people are completely totally into.

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