Never on a First Date? Get Real
Wednesday is DD Non Fiction day, so you tell me. Is this truth or just a complete load of… imagination?
I’d fallen in love with him at first sight. I didn’t even see his face. Just his shoulders, his profile, in the shadows of a club.
My heart lurched. I blamed the jolt from a guy pushing me onto the dance floor. The drunk, sweaty guy ground his hips against mine as I looked over his shoulder, contemplating my escape route.
Then he looked at me. No, not the guy dancing, the guy I fell in love with.
He held my eye contact, pushed through the bodies writhing to the beat. Took my hand and led me away. Drunk sweaty guy peeled away and danced alone. I didn’t look back.
He wrapped his hand around mine, led me past the bar to a quiet corner. Leant down to whisper to me. I waited for a cheesy pick up line. His body heat almost overwhelming, his scent arousing my senses.
‘Tell your friends you’re with me. Tell them my number.’
He handed me his phone.
Who does that?
Five minutes later, I’d led him outside. Breathed in cool air, held my warm body against his.
He took my breath away. Close-up his eyes a deep blue with a flash of green. His skin and black crop, a dark shadow of my blonde hair and pale complexion. Opposites attract.
He tilted my chin up. Kissed me. Lips soft, teasing, tongue slipping into my mouth as passion rose. His hardness against my stomach as he walked us back against the wall. I groped his ass. Pulled him close.
Slutty, carefree, horny as fuck!
His zipper eased down as he wrapped his coat around us. Whilst others passed by, I wanked him against me. I almost giggled. He’s a big guy.
He peeled off my fingers, tucked himself away. I sighed, frustrated. Holding hands, we walked to the takeaway, shared a dirty kebab.
Cab home. My bed. His condom.
He had to ease himself into me. Big guys don’t always get it easy. I took him. Bucked through the pain of being stretched and drilled.
Scraped my nails down his back when he lost his load.
Cried in his arms after he’d taken me over the edge with gentle lips and greedy tongue.
We fucked again. Me on top.
Then again. His shoulder bitten as he rode me. My tits chewed as I rode him.
Sore but sated, we slept. Then fucked again.
Don’t sleep with the guy the first night? Fuck that.
We never parted again. Until we did. Years passed, boredom set in.
Years later, we met again. We fucked. It was the same.
Mind-blowing. Grinding. Sweaty, sticky perfection. Heart breaking.
No dirty kebab but we ate each other so that made up for it.
Sometimes it just works. It doesn’t have to last. We walk past each other in the street now.
Our love and lust just is, or was, or could be.
Tell me I’m right.