Baritone

 

It’s been over 6 months since I had sex; over a year since I had satisfying, mind blowing, legs shaking sex that left my vagina walls contracting at unsteady intervals. Horny has successfully become my default mode (lol… Who am I kidding? It has always been my default mode). I didn’t need a trigger.
Like an animal savouring its prey, I objectified good looking men, shamelessly gulping in their features. It dawned on me that male eye candies were in limited supply in my location. But who am I to have an opinion, I’m an unapologetic librocubicularist. I’m almost always indoors. So, you would understand why I said a prayer of thanksgiving when I set eyes on him. Luck has finally shined on me; or so I thought.

He was tall and handsome, in his late twenties with head covered in well moisturized jet black hair (yep… something I can sink my fingers into while he goes down on me), his voice was a deep baritone that softly caressed my auditory and cerebral nerves. He had dry, ashy skin, about 6 shades darker than mine and eyes that seemed clueless but satisfied. I couldn’t wait to have him in my bed and that was an easy task.

My gorgeous body was covered in goosebumps as he kissed me everywhere and while at it still paid full attention to my luscious bundle of boobies, this I found quite impressive. My nipples were overly sensitive to his touch. Sucking, fondling, rubbing and pinching -the sharp pleasurable pain from the pinching drove me insane; I tried hard not to be loud as it was at the dead of night, the darkest and quietest hour just before dawn. He slowly nibbled on my ears, letting me enjoy the sound of his heavy rhythmic breathing. I was entirely convinced that right now, at this very moment, I, Mma, am indeed winning in life. I reached down to stroke his fully erect penis, brushing my thumb over the tip and rubbing on it in circular motion made easy by his precum; when I did this, he gave out a sound of pleasure and gave me a dangerously disarming dose of his baritone voice again by saying something in my ears which I was too mesmerized to make out.
I slyly push his head downward and he eagerly indulged me. My vagina sang hallelujah to the wonders he performed. I held his head down, running my fingers through his thick hair, arching my waist forward to grind on his face and teasing my pudenda. Phew! His tongue was magical. I helplessly moaned his name and begged for more. I was drowning in ecstacy and didn’t care to be saved. I effortlessly pulled him up and we kissed with such passion, tongues dancing. I wanted him inside of me, all of him -the whole package. I was ready to have my mind and back completely blown out!
With the little sound I could muster outside a moan, I squeaked, “do you have a condom?”

(Now, on a normal, I would just take out a condom from the little box on the lampstand but I didn’t think I’d be getting any action anytime soon so, I gave the last one to my neighbour. I was going to buy some more, I swear)

I held my breath and begged the universe he would give me a nod. He didn’t.

Alas! The universe has chosen the worst time to work against me and have a good laugh at my expense! ?

Then he added, “I never use condoms.”
Wait. What? Never? NEVER?! ? With the widespread of sexually transmitted diseases out there? I was about to have sex with a walking STD host? My life flashed before my eyes. I was instantly cured of my horniness. He made to continue but I was already wriggling out from under him. I washed myself and we went straight to bed. I have my whole life to have sex.

I woke up to the sound of him peeing, I too needed to urinate so when he was done, I went in.
I stood still, in shock, staring at the toilet and having a heated internal battle trying not to loose my mind to the cold arms of disgust, surprise, anger, irritation and a legion other unclear emotions. I felt sorry for myself, I do not deserve this. My fine man had poured his golden shower all over the place, on the toilet seat and on the bathroom floor. He peed everywhere else except in the toilet bowl and it didn’t occur to him to clean up afterwards. His excuse? He was too sleepy to hold and direct his flaccid penis!
I was zoned out, frozen in a state of self-realization, taking in the details of this amateur crime scene. What if I didn’t bother to put the lights on? I would have sat my pretty ass right in this mishmash of body fluid. Is this one penis worth the trouble? Do I have to tolerate this objectionable behavior on a TOTAL GAMBLE for good sex? There’s only so much Mma can take and a messy man is definitely not one!

In the morning, he kissed my cheek and said he’ll see me later. I looked in his eyes and replied, “No. No you won’t.”
His simple mind didn’t comprehend what I meant by those words. He didn’t ask too. But now, as my phone buzzes again for the one thousandth time from his calls and poorly composed texts, I believe he will. Soon.

 

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