Joe was a good 6 feet tall, with a thin yet muscled body from playing soccer. His shaven face was inlaid with green eyes. We’re gonna call him Joe. I go to Joe’s apartment with the above expectations only to be met with this sweet, handsome guy. At one point, I unsexily cried because I was let down that night. After that, we turned on Beauty and the Beast (the newest version because Emma Watson…hell yeah) which was not meant to be watched. The crimson bra with lace trimmings, came off. Even though I was attempting to play it cool, I wanted to be touched. He understood that. After pulling my shirt taut against my unfettered breasts, he pulled it back off. We pretended like nothing was happening, simply passersby to a sex scene that felt so good. Joe as an artist, began smoothly moving his index finger tip over my limbs. Tracing the veins. Starting on my arms, cleanly moving up to my chest. He was using my right breast as a pillow the entire time, I had my arm around his head to pull him closer. His cologne and the movie were the only sensations that were not being caused by us being together. No noises besides my moans as he finally released my tension, flicking his tongue across my nipple. The coldness in the air made his hot tongue feel like Heaven itself hit my passion. My moans became louder until he shushed me. Informed me in a childlike manner that he did not want his neighbors to hear us having sex. His fingertips were still gripping my nipple as I decided to counter-inform him that I was on my period. I asked if that was a problem, he said it certainly was but continued to his ministrations.
Playing with the fire of the situation I continued enjoying every second. His cock tented his pants. It was time to hear his decision of what to do; fuck me or not? As we got into bed, he growled that he needed to fuck me now. A towel was grabbed from my overnight bag, being thrust under my ass. Joe finally pulled off his sports shorts gracing me with his six inch prick. No foreplay was needed, he slowly pushed in at my request as I thrust my hips up to the hilt of his penis. I realized the callousness of my heels as I wrapped my ghostly legs around his back. The need to fix that when I got home swept over my mind but was quickly forgotten for another time. His need had his sweat glands working overtime, spilling the salty liquid on my body. My mind began to wander as missionary began to bore me. To get back into the mood, I attempted to pull his hair only to find a buzz cut with little to grab. My next step is kissing. Instead of his hair I went for his neck to pull his face to mine. Instead of kisses that would make me melt, I was met with the lips of a cow chewing the cud of my lips. Twenty minutes passed as fucked me as hard as he could in the most boring of positions. As my mind twiddled its thumbs, I sexily whispered if he wanted to cum inside my tight pussy. He groaned that he never cums, only fucks. As my thighs were getting sore along with my vagina I asked him to stop.
The easter yellow condom is hard to see on his member in the dark. Joe rests on his knees and exclaims, “There’s blood on my d! I can feel it!” like a child petting a manta ray for the first time only to realize the sliminess. The 31 year old man refused to touch the condom which had collected most of the menstruation onto its exterior. Realizing the man-child I had just sexed I told him to be a big boy and wash it off. Joe refused to wash until I took the condom off. Unceremoniously I yanked the plastic off and threw it on some of his dark clothes.He couldn’t even touch or look at his now flaccid dick as he rushed to the bathroom. Rolling my eyes I laid down under the cotton comforter. It had been a good year since being fucked last and clearly my muscles were untrained for this endeavor. His dick now cleansed of the unpurified uterine lining, he slinks to the furthest edge of his bed. Not even looking or touching me, asks when I would be seeing myself out. At about 2 in the morning with my aches I asked to stay the night. Joe sighs saying that he never let a girl sleepover before because he prefers to be alone. With seeing the apathy for his “situation” on my darkened face he begrudgingly allows me to continue laying down. With the lackluster performance combined with an absence of cuddling, I fell asleep for the night disappointed.
An alarm chimes at 6 A.M. I jet up to see him still passed out, facing away from me. My hand reaches over to his back, gently rubbing him awake. His front finally shows itself as well as his morning wood (a situation I did not feel like dealing with). I jokingly ask when I will get kicked out, his straight face says as soon as possible. My lace bra is slipped back on, panties reinstated. He just finished making coffee as he approaches me for an awkward after-sex hug. Better than the cud chewing kisses so I was grateful. That would not be the best way to start my morning. Since it was my first one night stand, I decided to ask for his name and phone number (something I no longer do since it creates more difficulty than anything). Freely giving his last name, he hesitates on his number. At that point I realized that even though we had been friends, he would never speak with me again. Joe gives me his number, however, the disdain for giving it was clear. I sent him a few texts never to receive a response. The happy guy who had sent me good morning and night messages daily didn’t want anything to do with me. The worst part? I could not have cared less. The sex was sub par and if his personality was shown in bed, he was selfish. My excitement for the situation was caused by my lack of interest in a relationship or even friendship afterwards. I figure that if someone treats me bad in bed then they didn’t care for my well being or happiness in the first place, no matter how sweet their words were.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8tm5qr/first_one_night_stand_mf