The man who wouldn’t let me use him for sex [FM]

*When reading this, keep in mind I’ve been to therapy and I’m a far better person now.*

People always want to psychoanalyze why I’ve fucked more men than women if I truly have no preference. The answer is pretty simple: men are very easy to use for sex and I’m a sex addict.

I’ve had a lot of struggles in this life, but getting a man to sleep with me wasn’t one of them. My old roommate said I was born with a “different gene” that made it possible for me to seduce just about anyone.

When I was single I had seduction down to a damn art.

How did I do it? It’s actually pretty easy. Bring up sex gradually and wait for a reciprocal response. Being blonde and cute also helped.

Rejection was rare for me.

When I was younger I took advantage of this. I loved bringing powerful men to knees in a literal sense. It became a hobby that was not unlike a kink. I would hit on people for the hell of it, and fuck with men constantly. Sometimes I would seduce people and get them to to edge and then refuse to fuck them just to feel powerful.

*I ruined relationships and fucked with a lot of people. This is not something I’m proud of. It just is what it is. People do stupid shit when they’re young and lacking in self-awareness and access to therapy.*

There was this one guy. He was in a technical position of authority over me and about 30 years my senior. However, he was pretty fucking sexy and a bit old-fashioned in a way that I found endearing.

I decided I was going to fuck him.

30. Years. Though.

We started texting and it was pretty easy to relay my intentions. He was also receptive to my advances in we were just flirting via text. We weren’t full on sexting but we danced around it a lot. I think the furthest we got was he asked how I fucked women and I threw in a few too many details. Then he backed off though.

I don’t know who invited whom out for dinner, but it actually initially wasn’t a sexual thing. He was kind of a mentor-like presence and I think I needed help with career steps. Dinner just made sense but it ended up being a little more romantic than either of us intended. It was candle lit and secluded.

We were also flirting. It was subtle but it was certainly there.

At one point he said, “I’m glad we’re friends, V. I wouldn’t want you as an enemy.”

“You want to know something? I don’t think we’re friends,” I smiled.

I put a hand on his thigh and watched him raise an eyebrow. He looked amused, but stopped me.

“What?” I finally asked when he kept shaking his head.

“We’re not doing that, Viola.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have to tell you why.”

“Seriously?”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” He finally asked.

“No, I have a vibrator and a job. I don’t have much need for a boyfriend.”

He smiled. “This usually works for you, right?”

“What?”

“You flirt, send sexual texts, and then say something hot and get that look in your eye?”

“I sincerely don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you’re seducing me.”

I sighed. “Is it working?”

“I’m not interested.”

“What? You flirt with me all the time.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re impossible to get to know? Every time I ask you anything personal you either dodge or get sexual.”

“So?”

“So I don’t like meaningless sex. It’s empty. I’m old and don’t have time for it.”

“I bet I can change your mind. I’m REALLY good at fucking. Trust me, it won’t be empty.”

“And what after?”

“What do you mean?”

“What happens after we have this incredible sex? Do you cuddle before you slip out the door?”

“We can cuddle if you want, I guess. What is this?”

“A rejection,” he laughed. “How long has it been since someone rejected you? You don’t even recognize it.”

“Never… I’ve never really been rejected after getting this far.”

“I bet not. You’re very cute. What does this do for you?”

“It gets me laid.”

*It did a lot more than that for me. I liked the chase and lived for sexual conquests.*

“That’s it? You’re very interesting,” he laughed. “I have a daughter your age. Maybe slightly older.”

“Don’t talk about your daughter.”

“Why? You don’t like hearing how old I am?”

“No, I just think that comparison might make things awkward later when I deep throat you.”

He stopped and put his head in his hands. “Fuuuck, you make it hard.”

“Are you hard?”

“I mean, it’s hard to reject you. However, consider this your first. We can be friends.”

“We’re not friends though.”

“We can be friendly then.”

We were friendly. He was so chill that things were surprisingly not awkward. We hung out regularly at work and still texted each other memes and funny bits.

He fucked up one night though.

We had some kind of networking event and I brought my ex who is an exceedingly attractive human. He’s too beautiful for his own good. We’re also close and people can usually sense it.

Nice Guy got a little drunk and came up to me at the bar and asked about my “boyfriend.”

I almost snorted. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s a fucking mess.”

“You two seem close,” he mumbled.

“Why do you care?”

He rolled his eyes and left. He texted me later though and things got… heated. He told me he was bummed I left early and I responded I was bummed he didn’t leave with me.

Then this ensued…

Me: Then again I forgot you don’t have meaningless sex. It’s probably for the best We’d have bad sex anyway.

Him: Seriously? We have chemistry. We’d have great sex.

Me: Describe it… Or are you too old to know how to sext?

Him: I’d take you and lay you flat with a pillow under your stomach so I could drive into you as deep as possible. Then I’d make you lick me clean before I finished you off with my tongue.

*Like daaaaaamn. Ok, Boomer.*

I asked for more but he stopped texting me back. Instead I got a text the next morning saying we needed to meet for a “chat.”

He invited me to his place and that was a trip in itself. I knew he was wealthy, but I imagined him in a big suburban house. Instead he had a fucking cool apartment downtown. When I mentioned this he laughed and said, “Yeah, nothing kills a suburban life like divorce. I didn’t feel the need to create a commute to live alone.”

“I didn’t know you were divorced.”

“Yep, five years. You’d know that if you tried to get to know people.”

I shrugged. “I don’t really see the point.”

“Of getting to know people? Don’t you have friends?”

“Sure, but we’re not friends, remember?”

He eyed me carefully. “That’s not why you’re here, V.”

I thought he was going to chastise me for sexting, but instead we had a pretty normal conversation. We laughed about shit at work and talked about my next job.

We had only had one glass of wine but the room was spinning there was such strong tension. We stopped talking and he took a piece of my hair and played with it.

“Are you still rejecting me?” I smiled and watched him carefully.

We both leaned in and kissed each other. He put his hand to my cheek and very, very sweetly parted my lips. I let him explore my mouth and gently put a hand on my thigh as he pulled me in slightly.

Theeen, I went insane.

I climbed on his lap to straddle him and ground my hips into him. He threw his head back and moaned almost like he was in pain, but I didn’t stop. I put his finger to my mouth and let him circle my lips slowly before I sucked it.

He put a hand to my chest and squeezed once, making me whimper and grind harder.

Then our lips locked again and he fell on top of me. He pulled me so that I was perfectly situated with him between my legs and then his mouth found my neck. He licked me slightly and then sucked. I groaned and shook as he put a hand on top of mine and pinned me to the couch.

*Fuuuuuck. Ok, Boomer.*

For a sweet, magical ten seconds, this dry humped. We were in perfect sync and he was so fucking hard I could rub my clit against him and start building.

Then he fucking pushed back and climbed off of me.

“What the fuck, man? Are you actually insane?” I huffed as he fell back against the couch.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I’m human. I invited you over because I was going to tell you this flirtation has to end.”

“That’s why you invited me over? We could have met in public.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I worried if someone saw us it would hurt your career. We should never have gone to dinner. Do you know what that could have looked like if someone saw? I wasn’t thinking. I’ve seen too many women get taken down in this field with rumors alone.”

“Oh… but you do like me. You flirt with me. And sext me. And we were just fucking dry humping.”

“It wouldn’t mean anything, V.”

“So what? You want to be my fucking boyfriend? Is that it?”

“Oh don’t think I haven’t thought about any possible scenario for this to work. But no. I don’t want to be your boyfriend.”

“Why not?”

*I didn’t want a boyfriend, but now I was offended… Because it’s young fucking V. I didn’t even want this guy per say, but his rejection had fucked with my head.*

“Apart from the fact that I’m your father’s age and you’re younger than my daughter? You’re chaos. You’re a great attorney, but you make me so sad in every other sense.”

“Sad? Fuck you.”

*I was genuinely offended because I didn’t think I was sad. I was actually having a pretty fucking great time in my youth. You can’t be sad if you have three fuck buddies on rotation and a job. Young V was definitely not lonely deep down…*

“Viola… Come on. What does this do for you? Because it’s not just sex. You could go find someone your age so easily.”

“Well…”

*I didn’t have an answer. It’s something that took me about $10,000 in therapy to figure out. I could have used anyone for sex. I chose people who I had no future with- people who were also pure chaos, emotionally unavailable, too old, or in positions of authority… I was an undiagnosed sex addict who want there to be ANY chance of a connection.*

“I don’t know,” I finally said. “Can’t I just like sex?”

He shook his head. “If that was the case you could get it. You’re young and beautiful.”

“Maybe I just wanted to fuck *you.* We we’re just having a pretty damn good time.”

He kissed me on the cheek. “You’ll see I’m right one day.”

We developed something close to a father-daughter relationship after that. He’s in his 60s now and, while he still looks good, I now cringe at the thought of our physical intimacy. Weirdly enough though, he’s a dear friend. We go out for lunch every few months and I always text him before a major professional or financial decision.

More importantly, this actually served as an odd wake up call. I stopped fucking my abusive ex after that, stopped seeing most of my fuck buddies, and started going to second dates with people I liked.

Because I honestly was kind of sad.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/z8hhph/the_man_who_wouldnt_let_me_use_him_for_sex_fm