Tom was a hot nightclub owner I met at a party. He was English, an army vet and dirty in a way that made me think he would be good in bed. Plus he was loaded and the accent was hot. I wasn't sure at first if he liked me, but my gay BFF Will insisted that he wanted to get up on me. It dawned on me that he may have liked me a little when he later told me I had to sit on his lap because there wasn't enough room for both of us on the sofa. There was room for five people.
Tom asked for my digits and a week later we were out at one of his latest venues. He wasn't boyfriend material, and I needed to get laid ASAP, so I decided not to waste any time. I had just finished riding the crimson wave, so I figured I was now good to go. After getting sufficiently wasted off copious amounts of red wine and Jack Daniels, I brought Tom back to my apartment, where we began to get it on.
That's when it started. The chatter. "Baby you're so hot." "Oh yeah harder." "You're so dirty." "Blah blah."
I'm not into chatty Cathys during sexy times. I talk enough during the day, so I don't need any more chit-chat while someone is poking me. I suggested another use for his mouth and pushed him down. I waited awhile to feel something. After what seemed like an eternity, I began to wonder if he had any familiarity with a clitoris. I decided I needed to do something before I started chafing. I was just about to get on top when I noticed it.
I was banging a guy with a smurf tattoo on his arm. And not just any smurf. An evil smurf. It looked like it had been drawn on with the left hand of an inbred, right-handed monkey. What next? Is there a panorama of Gargamel and Azrael framing his butt?
I knew right then and there this session in the sack was going south quick and better get it over with. I got on top to finish this up before I got completely turned off. Continue reading...
More juicy content from YourTango: