November 3, 2010
A1, Subject3, Part Four
Thursday night we played football in a big group of friends, like we do every week. Afterwards I confronted him about how he needed to be more direct with me, or nothing was ever going to happen with us. We ended up sitting in my car for hours, making out, grabbing each other and finally... I gave him his first blow job. He came, shaking and gasping into my mouth, and muttered "Sorry about how it smells.." "It smells fine, actually." "Oh, well, sorry if it tastes bad." "I like it." Virgins, man. Gotta love em.
Friday night, the night before his 22nd birthday, we went out to dinner with a group of his friends. We went to some parties, he got a little boozy, and I took him back to my dorm. The rest, as they say, is history.
We started making out, and I began to kiss down his body, sliding his pants off as I moved down. I blew him again, appreciating the sounds he makes and how sensitive he is. About an hour later of talking and kisisng, we were both naked. He propped himself above me, and I once again got the chance to admire his absolutely beautiful body. Dark, rippling muscles, beautiful face (he's a quarter Asian... and I think we can agree that a Asian-African mix can be one of the most stunning combinations on the face of this planet), luscious full lips, nice dick... I couldn't help myself. I rubbed the head of his dick and whispered, "Do you want to?" He nodded shakily. "You sure?" Another nod. Well then. Here we go.
I guided him into me. And his face- well. There is nothing quite like seeing a man lose his virginity. For an instant they are really and truly laid bare, and there is something about that that turns me on. He began to move in and out of me. I moved my ankles onto his shoulder so I could feel him enter me more completely. He hit it at all the right angles, may I just say. I would say that he is absolutely the perfect girth for me. Oh, my god. After about an hour of fucking, he slipped out (we were both a little worn out, I think. Doesn't help that my dorm doesn't have AC), and I started gently teasing the head of his cock. He gasped "Oh, god, I'm going to cum..." And although I love the feel of a man coming inside me, I signaled that would be okay.
And then he came.
It washed over my stomach, rolled over my sides, soaked through my sheets. For a second, panicked second, I thought he had peed on me. There was so much fluid. At least a half gallon, and that's a conservative estimate. You know how sometimes, after sex, you can change the sheets, or not? And it's not a big deal. That wasn't an option here. I took the sheets off, and started putting new ones on only to find that the foam mattress pad had absorbed so much of it that it started dampening the new sheets. I tried flipping the mattress pad over, and found, to my horror, that it had soaked through and even made a small spot on my mattress. What a huge load. He kept apologizing, saying that that had never happened before. It was fine. I put new sheets on (sans mattress pad) and we fell asleep around 6 am, on his birthday, still naked.
Happy birthday Subject 3!
This means the blog will be changing, the concept will be different. BUT we think it's still interesting. A1 will be presenting the life of a single girl, A2 recording her life in a relationship. Two sides to every story, am I right?
Posts will be up soon.
October 26, 2010
A1, Subject2, Part Three
So here we are again. Subject2. You delicious hunk of man meat. I hadn't slept with you in almost a week, you naughty boy!
We finally got to see each other again on Monday. We agreed to meet around one, and I texted him when I left. In response, I got what has got to be one of my favorite texts I've ever received: "Okay. I'm about to get in the shower. If I'm not out just come up to my room." Immediately wet. I confess, I broke the speed limit quite a few times on my way to his house.
When I get there I can hear the shower running. I let myself into his room, tap on the bathroom door to let him know I'm there, and climb into his bed. Even his bed is sexy. Even his room is sexy. Very earthy but with just a dash of modern rocker. It's hard to explain, but getting into his big fluffy bed, I was even more turned on.
He came out of the shower.
He laid down next to me. And then we had the best sex I have ever had in my entire life. Him kneeling before me with my legs slung over his shoulders. Him on top. Me on top. On and on and on into deliciousness. He took me from every angle. When I was riding him, I had the best orgasm I have ever had from sex, staring down into his blue eyes and feeling his hands on my breasts. We were scratching at each other, grabbing each other, pulling hair, moaning, kissing, biting- it was perfect. The perfect fuck. Normally I don't smoke, but this is a fuck that truly deserved a post coital cigarette. Satisfaction at its very finest, my friends.
Afterwards we lay on his couch, just enjoying each others company, occasionally stopping to make out, one of his hands drifting onto my chest- but nothing more. Just cuddling and soaking up the awesomeness of what had happened. Honestly I would have wanted to have another go before I left, but he... well... let's just say that the 30 second thing? No longer an issue. Poor thing was worn out.
October 25, 2010
A1, Subject3 (AGAIN!)
I just had to drop on by and share this little tidbit with you: Subject3 claims to have never had an orgasm. I'm sorry, what? Yeah, you heard me right. Now, technically, this is because he differentiates between cumming and orgasming (his argument being that he doesn't feel any sense of relief afterwards). I don't know how I feel about that definition, especially since I've experienced the opposite- a feeling of relief without an orgasm. What say you, dear readers? Full of shit or valid argument? Discuss in comments.
Either way, I know what I'm giving him for his birthday!
October 20, 2010
Saw each other again Monday night. We hung out at the pool he works out and then we went out to dinner. Went pretty well, I think. We then made our way to a party a friend of ours was throwing, where we basically cuddled and touched each other all night. Not like, grabby touching, but you know, gently stroking each other (he's so ticklish!). At the end he walked me out to my car and we made out and for the first time it wasn't totally awkward.
Hoorah for progress.
Date with Subject4 this weekend.
October 17, 2010
Subject3. Gorgeous. Body of a Greek God. Tall, muscular, nice, wide swimmer's shoulders. Everytime I show his picture to a girl, they without fail emit a little gasp. Delicious in every single way. But it's weird. He looks like such a man, but acts like such a girl.
Well, that's not true. He acts like such a V-I-R-G-I-N. Because that's what he is. And not the kind of virgin where they've had anal and oral, but say they're saving the 'real thing' for the right girl (you think I'm making this up, but a LOT of my guy friends do that. It's the ultimate loophole.). And it's not that I have anything against virgins! I don't! Usually, in fact, I love virgins. Their stuttering, trembling ways make me melt and blush and want to teach them all my devilish, devious ways. But this boy! Maybe it's because he's so old for a virgin- he'll be twenty-one next week. I don't think it's a religious or a moral thing, either. He's trapped inside his own inexperience. It's a vicious cycle- he thinks there's a special reason he hasn't lost his treasured V-card, and that makes him more afraid to make a move, which makes it more unlikely he'll lose it, and then he'll think there's a special reason he hasn't lost it. Poor guy. And he's just so cute! I just can't figure it out. Girls of the world, we have failed, because this boy hasn't gotten so much as a blowjob before.
He's a mess. Last night, he walked me out to my car after a party we were both leaving. I said, "Why don't we go to your car and then you can drive me over to mine?" That way, you see, we would be alone in an empty parking garage to kiss and touch and grind and... well, who knows. He says, "Oh no, I don't mind. Yours is closer, anyway." Hmmm. Okay. So he walks me to my car, lets me unlock it and get in it, and then bends down to kiss me. Once I'm in the car! And not a peck, okay, goodnight kiss. A makeout session while he's crouching down in the middle of the road and we're basically in public view. I murmur, "See, this is why we should have taken your car over." He goes, "Ohhhhh... well, I could get in the passenger's seat."
Poor dumb nervous thing. He kisses me and his lips start to shake. His hands get jittery. Someone needs to break this boy in, and I think I could be just the girl for the job.
October 13, 2010
A1, Subject2, Part 2
(You'll notice that some of these have changed, because really, every time is different. Sex is so subjective.)
Bonus Points: Great hair, cool, musician. We mesh well, I think.
Let's talk some more about Subject2, shall we? I need to decompress this. Readers, be my therapist.
So we hung out again today. He came and picked me up and we drove back to his place. We sat on his couch and talked for a little bit and then... well,you know. We're attractive teenagers- we got naked. We undressed each other completely, stared at each other for about five seconds and then he just dove in. I was laying back on the couch, and he was standing over me off the couch, using his arms to prop himself up on the back of the couch. I wrapped my legs around his waist and I swear, a boy inside me has never felt better. His dick certainly isn't the biggest I've ever seen, but man, it fits inside me so well. Just feels incredible. And he makes me so wet. We fuck for a couple of minutes and he cums. Fast, again. Hm... But he explained that it's because he's not used to condomless sex. So I'm hoping maybe he'll last longer as he gets used to it.
Right now you're asking, 'A1, this sounds great! Why do you need a therapist? What's there to decompress?' Oh, I'm getting there.
We go outside (he smokes) and he starts telling me about this girl he used to date. I knew her a little bit in high school, so I'm listening, whatever, giving advice. Doesn't phase me much. But he keeps talking about her. I think he's still in love with her. Whatever, I get it. We all have that person. God knows I have my boy shaped baggage. And then, randomly, he tells me that me and one of his friends would make a good couple. What. The. Fuck.
It gets weirder. We go back inside and he starts treating me like a therapist. Like he's telling me about his dysfunctional family (and you heard it here first: it is fucked up), how he thinks he'll never be happy... Just all this really sad stuff about.. I don't know. It was just sad. I wanted to hug him. But I wasn't sure how to. I mean, I'm not his girlfriend, I don't know if you could really call us friends... I wasn't sure how he wanted me to react. So in the end I just kissed him on the cheek and said I was sorry. Just truly did not know what to do. Felt like my heart was breaking for this small skinny sad kid that I had kind of inadvertantly stumbled into a sexual relationship with.
And then we started kissing. Really softly and tenderly. Like not making out. Just... nice. I don't know.
And then we had sex. And in the spectrum of "fucking" and "making love" (whatever that means), I don't know where to place it. It was slower. We looked at each other. I said his name.
I confess: troubled boys? I love em. Can't get enough. Reality bites is like the story of my fucking life. Give me a boy with a dysfunctional family, substance abuse, and some significant baggage, and baby I'm yours. Where is this going? What is this? How am I fuck buddy working overtime as a therapist?
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