Fucking like rabbits

Seeing as it’s Easter, lets talk about rabbits… I had some pretty rampant sex last week, and not in the good sense. I had a date with a Tinder guy, he seemed fairly nice and I don’t very often do the dating thing (mostly just the fucking thing), so it’s a little unusual to get dressed up and make an effort to engage in conversation.

I asked what he was wearing, purely because I didn’t want to overdress as we were going to quite a nice bar, but didn’t want to turn up in a dress if he was super casual. I immediately lost all enthusiasm for the date when he sent me a photo of his 80s bleached jeans ripped to high hell and printed teeshirt. Not willing to be that shallow, I wasn’t going to call it off on his horrendous dress sense, so I opted for casual dress and went along anyway. Though it was frankly a sign of things to come. Conversation was mediocre. Fortunately I can chat for England so awkward silences aren’t really a thing, but the general topics were a little dull. We had a couple of drinks and he suggested going to mine, he was fairly cute looking and vodka had probably dulled the disgust at the jeans so I happily agreed.

We went back to mine and had a drink. One thing led to another and we were soon kissing in my kitchen. It wasn’t long before I was on my knees with his relatively average sized member down the back of my throat. I still wasn’t sure I wanted to fuck him, but I was getting relatively more and more turned on.

We went into the bedroom and he took off my top. He played with my nipples through my bra, pinching them hard making me squirm. I said he couldn’t fuck me unless he made me come first. He pulled my jeans off and instructed me to take off my underwear. He bent me over the bed and started fingering me, a good position to hit my G spot; he worked it well and slid out to play with my clit. I climaxed and wanted more. Sadly this was the best of it, as it all went hideously wrong after this.

Prior to us meeting we’d discussed sex in a little detail and he’d asked how I liked it. I said I liked being dommed and liked it rough. From the conversation, it seemed this was relatively new to him, and a little spanking and hair pulling was the most he’d engaged in, which was fine with me, you can work from that. He did a bit of spanking, was fine and hair pulling when fucking me from behind, again fine. It was the actual penetrating that was shit. He fucked me like a teenage boy (he was 31). Like his dick had never been inside a vagina before and he was suddenly so excited to be using something other than his hand to wank himself off with. I’ve never been thumped and pounded at so hard. Yes, I like rough sex, but I don’t like you to use your knob as a black and decker power tool, thanks. You can’t possibly come from someone banging you like that. I certainly can’t. I think my headboard has dented my wall. He literally shot out of my cunt at one point and didn’t even notice, I waited to see how long it took him to realise whilst he continued to thud between my labia majora and inner thigh – it was way too long. When he finally realised and went to put it back in he noticed the condom had slipped off (no fucking surprise, you’ve been fucking my leg), I don’t know how his cock wasn’t suffering from serious chaffing at this point. He ended up wearing him self out, so I finished him off with a hand job letting him come on my face (I’m way too generous as it was far more than he deserved given his performance).

To me that is not rough sex, it’s just shit and makes you feel like an object for fucking rather than engaging in sex. Needless to say we had little contact afterwards, as I wasn’t keen to revisit.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s