Benjamin T.
I've been going online more and more to try and find elusive love. That, or a semi-decent fuck that will help me forget I'm so so alone.
First there was Ok Cupid, where I found some wonderful friends (and potential lovers, but they're very far away right now) and one shitty lover. Then there was Tinder, where I met men who were intimidated by me or men who intimidated me because of how they looked or acted. I've been binging between the two for a while and last night I slept with someone from Tinder. It wasn't what I meant it to be, as a part of me thinks that I went too fast and another isn't sure if the condom stayed on such a small dick.
Benjamin and I matched about a week ago and we started talking (I made the first line about him being in Bogotá). We exchanged numbers and he said he'd message me when he installed whatsapp. He did. We spent two days talking about everything including bits and pieces of naughtier conversation Me: How torrid can you get? Him: How much torrid can you stand? until we met up for dinner yesterday. Conversation was pleasant (I'm never ordering that dish again) and we decided to go to a bar for a cocktail, one called Traditional American. Or something.
We were already looking at each other with more interest than is necessary, so we left again, this time for his airbnb.
Then the key didn't work. I was tired, frustrated and had no idea what to do. In my panic (and feeling that I had to do something in order to get laid), I hit all the buttons of the people living in that building. Did I do the right thing? He said that if I wanted to go, I should go. Did I do the right thing in staying? My guilt haunts me, because I don't know now if I'm pregnant or not, diseased or not. I'm still unsatisfied, however.
So we went up, he offered a drink to which I refused. Then we started to kiss and fool around and take our clothes off. He ate me out first, until I (almost) came, and I started to get ready to jerk him off...and then I saw it. His dick was the same height as my FIST. At this point I was too turned on and partially too drunk to care, so I went on with it. We finished undressing and he put a condom on. Here's the thing: a part of me isn't so sure he kept it on all the time, especially since we moved a lot (him on top, me on top), and when I asked him he just said he was very very sure that it had been there the whole time. And then offered me a beer.
I still don't believe him and I'm getting tested for STD as soon as I can. He came on my chest anyways, dropping semen all over my rosary. God wasn't that lucky that night either.
He wanted to cuddle, and I wanted to leave. I felt raped and uneasy, but I was still so unsatisfied. I started to put my clothes on again and asked him to eat me out again, which he did. This time, I did come, and woke up the neighbors as I moaned so loud at the end.
We didn't talk much afterwards and I left. I was feeling weird about him: at the end, he turned out to be very awkward and very childish for someone his age. He wants something long term, to be a daddy. I told him that if I'm ever pregnant, I'm putting that kid down the drain (to which he was sad about. Sorry, but I'm not a mother.) and I don't want long term. I want long action.
Would I do him again before he goes back home? Maybe, but with the lights on this time, so I can see where the hell does that condom go.
First there was Ok Cupid, where I found some wonderful friends (and potential lovers, but they're very far away right now) and one shitty lover. Then there was Tinder, where I met men who were intimidated by me or men who intimidated me because of how they looked or acted. I've been binging between the two for a while and last night I slept with someone from Tinder. It wasn't what I meant it to be, as a part of me thinks that I went too fast and another isn't sure if the condom stayed on such a small dick.
Benjamin and I matched about a week ago and we started talking (I made the first line about him being in Bogotá). We exchanged numbers and he said he'd message me when he installed whatsapp. He did. We spent two days talking about everything including bits and pieces of naughtier conversation Me: How torrid can you get? Him: How much torrid can you stand? until we met up for dinner yesterday. Conversation was pleasant (I'm never ordering that dish again) and we decided to go to a bar for a cocktail, one called Traditional American. Or something.
We were already looking at each other with more interest than is necessary, so we left again, this time for his airbnb.
Then the key didn't work. I was tired, frustrated and had no idea what to do. In my panic (and feeling that I had to do something in order to get laid), I hit all the buttons of the people living in that building. Did I do the right thing? He said that if I wanted to go, I should go. Did I do the right thing in staying? My guilt haunts me, because I don't know now if I'm pregnant or not, diseased or not. I'm still unsatisfied, however.
So we went up, he offered a drink to which I refused. Then we started to kiss and fool around and take our clothes off. He ate me out first, until I (almost) came, and I started to get ready to jerk him off...and then I saw it. His dick was the same height as my FIST. At this point I was too turned on and partially too drunk to care, so I went on with it. We finished undressing and he put a condom on. Here's the thing: a part of me isn't so sure he kept it on all the time, especially since we moved a lot (him on top, me on top), and when I asked him he just said he was very very sure that it had been there the whole time. And then offered me a beer.
I still don't believe him and I'm getting tested for STD as soon as I can. He came on my chest anyways, dropping semen all over my rosary. God wasn't that lucky that night either.
He wanted to cuddle, and I wanted to leave. I felt raped and uneasy, but I was still so unsatisfied. I started to put my clothes on again and asked him to eat me out again, which he did. This time, I did come, and woke up the neighbors as I moaned so loud at the end.
We didn't talk much afterwards and I left. I was feeling weird about him: at the end, he turned out to be very awkward and very childish for someone his age. He wants something long term, to be a daddy. I told him that if I'm ever pregnant, I'm putting that kid down the drain (to which he was sad about. Sorry, but I'm not a mother.) and I don't want long term. I want long action.
Would I do him again before he goes back home? Maybe, but with the lights on this time, so I can see where the hell does that condom go.
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