I Couldn’t Help Myself

Backscratcher has been increasingly nice over the last few months, which I found was due to him ditching his girlfriend.  About 6 weeks ago, he asked if there was anything I needed.  I jokingly responded, “Nothing you can give me.”  I was in the process of trying to get my itch scratched by Desmond and I didn’t ever see myself getting smashed by Backscratcher again anyway.

Fast forward to two days ago.  I am picking up the kid from his place and he goes in for a hug.  *Note: I don’t really hug.  I barely hug my own family and he knows this.*  I give him a forced side hug and he grabs my ass through my dress.  I didn’t say anything or make a scene.  As I’m leaving, my phone dings with a text.

B: “I had a few thoughts about you in that dress!”
Me: “Care to share?”
B: “Nope… I did catch a slight hard on”
Me: “I’m sure you’d lose it if the dress came off”
B: “#letsfindout”

I wasn’t too surprised by his suggestion, but was a little taken back by his forwardness.  I let it go and the conversation ended there.

Yesterday he asked to have dinner with the kid one night this week and I agreed.  He said it would probably be Wednesday, so I was thrown off when he texted at 6:30 saying he could come over if the offer was still there.  I told him that was fine and it actually worked out quite well.  He played with the kid while I caught up on all the chores I didn’t have time for on the weekend.  While waiting for the kid to fall asleep, I folded laundry and caught up on some work.  Backscratcher took it upon himself to get comfortable – took off his shoes, changed his clothes, laid on my bed.  I knew what he was trying to do, but I acted oblivious.

“Let’s cuddle.  Let’s spoon.”  Those were words I hadn’t heard in a really long time.  The light was off, we were under the covers, and now we were spooning.  It only remained PG for about 90 seconds.  His hand creeped under my shirt, then into my pants.  He teased my pussy through my panties longer than I wanted.  A lone finger finally found its way to my bare clit and didn’t waste any time rubbing, accelerating like we only had a few minutes.  I tried to grab the bulge in his pants, but my arms couldn’t reach over his muscular arms.

He rolled on his back and pulled down his pants.  My mouth was drawn to his cock like a magnet.  I wasted no time covering the entire length of it in my spit.  Balls, base, shaft, tip – I left no spot untouched.  Every time the tip of his cock touched the back of my throat, his body shivered and he let out a moan.  He took off my shirt and pinched my nipples.  HARD.  I could tell he wanted more, so I stripped off the rest of his clothes while he did the same.  I climbed on top, my pussy already wet with anticipation, and rode him fast and hard.  He sucked my tits and gave each ass cheek a hard smack.

He pulled my body close to him and slowed me down.  “Stop,” he whispered in my ear.  “You can’t take it?” I whispered back.  He tried to speed up a few more times, but slowed each time.  He rolled me over and put my ankles on his shoulders.  I could tell by the few short, hard thrusts that he wanted to cum.  After only a few seconds, he rolled me over again.  I was on all fours taking a pounding from a cock that had been neglected by a woman for too long.  My face was buried in the mattress as he released his load on my back.

We quickly cleaned up and got dressed.  He got his stuff together and before leaving, we noted the irony: exactly 4 years ago, I got pregnant with the kid.  Plan B anyone?


I did something kind of stupid.

I have an itch.  A BAD itch and I really wanted it scratched.  Sure, I can scratch a little bit on my own, but it just isn’t the same as having another person do it. (I hope we’re all on the same euphemism page).  It’s been about 4 months since my body last touched Desmond’s and he was really my only option if I wanted some relief.

So, I texted.

I didn’t have the kid, I didn’t have any plans, I was in town.  I thought of all the things I was going to do to him.  It was going to be sweaty, dirty, and rough.  I was going to use him to satisfy me before leaving him wanting more.

I checked my phone every 10 minutes while I was at the baseball game.  But nothing, nada, zip.  He never texted me back… until this morning saying that he was traveling for work. *insert eye roll*  He said he didn’t even know what “DTF” meant.  I’d believe that, actually, but I also believe that he knows how to use Google or Urban Dictionary.

When The Backscratcher dropped off the kid Sunday afternoon, he asked if there was anything I needed or that he could do.  I wanted to tell him what I really needed, but refrained.  He has a girlfriend and I don’t think he’d be able to satisfy me anyway.  At least I think he still has a girlfriend.

Either way, both of them are in my spank bank and helped me ease some of the itch that night.

Rude. Just Rude.

So there I am, on my back in Desmond’s bed. His knees are on each side of my head and he’s ramming his cock down my throat. He thinks it’s a punishment, but he clearly hasn’t listened to my list of likes and dislikes. I reached down to touch myself and before I had the chance to penetrate myself with my own fingers, he pulls his cock out of my mouth and cums in his hand. Well, mostly in his hand.

I was a little pleased with myself. I mean, I’ve made guys cum from a blow job before, but not him. He always has this everlasting erection and keeps himself from finishing, even to the point where he can no longer finish if he tried. Although I was feeling pleased, I was even more annoyed. Why would he finish after having his dick in my mouth for 3 minutes? It’s probably because he decided to be a douche for 3 months and his dick wasn’t touched by a woman during that time.

Thank goodness for that everlasting erection though. He grabbed me a towel to clean off my chest and we kept going. My ankles on his shoulders, me on top, me laying on my side. He flipped me onto all fours and pounded me hard and fast as I braced myself on the headboard. Suddenly, his pace slows and his breath deepens.

“Did you just finish again?!”

“Uhhhhh, yeah. Is that okay?”

“So you get to finish twice and I don’t get to finish at all?”

“Well, you don’t have your vibrator.”

I’m not sure why he thought my vibrator was a requirement of me having an orgasm. His mouth did the trick in the past and I certainly wouldn’t mind if it did again. I was annoyed and he looked tired. I rolled over and went to sleep, hoping he would make it up to me in the morning.

No Strings

He called.

He wanted to come to my house, but I said no. He met me at a diner around the corner and we went for a drive. His hands were between my legs. His eyes burned into me. His pants tightened. He searched for a place to park. “Take you’re pants off. Let me taste you. I wanna fuck you so bad.” We found out magical place: a curb outside a dark house.

My pants were off. His lips were on mine. His hands between my legs. His fingers plunged inside me. I bit his lip. I couldn’t see, but I knew I was dripping on his seat. He would smell me even after I left.

The car was a tight fit. I usually don’t have sex in driver seats, but it was the only option. I got on top of him – one knee on the center console and the other on the door armrest. I lowered myself into him easily. He closed his eyes and exclaimed his usual profanities. “Fuck! Oh God! Yes!”

“Is that what you like? You miss that tight pussy?”

He lasted more than 4 strokes this time, but I wish he hadn’t. It was a very uncomfortable position and I wanted to keep the mess contained. He signaled me to get up, but it wasn’t easy or quick. Two drops of cum made it to my mouth.

I put my pants on and he continued driving like nothing happened. He dropped me off around the corner leaving me to walk home as he sped off.

Suck It 2017

It wasn’t my best year. And of all the years I can remember, it’s probably one of the worst. Yes, my kid and I are still alive. We have a place to live and food to eat. But is that the only way to judge if something sucks or not? Think about it…. you can have bad sex, but still cum. Does that mean the sex is good? Hell no.

But I’m still here alive and kicking. I let 2017 swallow me, but I wrestled my way out and will kick 2018 in the teeth. Honestly, 2018 hasn’t started off so well either, but I’ve got my eye on the prize.

Desmond ghosted around Thanksgiving. He reached out one time after that, but it wasn’t to reignite our relationship. It’s not in his character to do something like that, so I’m not quite sure what to make of it. Needless to say, I haven’t been stuffed for a few months. I think that’s the reason I think about sex 571 times a day. Good for my writing, bad for my mental state.

I combed through some of my old journals over the holiday and found some encounters that I forgot about it. I relived some happy memories and got new inspiration for some short stories. All of my stories are based on actual scenarios I’ve been in, which makes me happy every time I read them.

I’m going to try and write at least one story a month, though I won’t post them all here. I may post some of the old journal entries I wrote just for fun. I hope I can keep my goal with everything else going on in life. And maybe I can find a cute cashier to take home in the mean time.

A Satisfying 20 Minutes

I was done with Desmond’s flaky attitude. I said my peace with him and I got comfortable with the fact that I would be resorting to a drawer of toys from now on. Last night he was going to return some of my things. I was tired and wasn’t sure what time he would be over, so I went to bed and told him the door was unlocked. I was only laying there for a few minutes before I heard the back door creak open. I heard him cross the kitchen, then the hall and into my room before sitting on my bed. 


He grabbed my face and kissed me like it was our first time. There was passion and purpose. He stood and took off all his clothes, his chocolate skin hard to see in the darkness. He slipped off my panties and worshipped my body for a few minutes before penetrating me. It only took me 4 minutes to orgasm, his hand covered my mouth to quiet my moans. I tasted myself from his cock before riding him until my hips gave out. I got on my hands and knees, while he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled… hard. My pussy dripped as he pounded me hard and fast as he filled me with his hot load. 

We laid next to each other for a few minutes while we caught our breath. After checking the time, he got up, got dressed and left. I rolled over and went right to sleep. 

Goodbyes Are Hard. Meh, Not Really. 

It’s hard to get quality dick when you’re a single working parent. There’s no time to peruse the bars. I can’t leave my kid at home alone to go get plowed and it would be weird telling a stranger to keep their voice down because your baby is sleeping down the hall. But taking care of myself artificially just doesn’t do it for me. Desmond has been my go to, but I’ve been slowly losing interest over the last few months. 

It’s hard to get time alone together and when we are, I initiate everything. Everything. “What do you want?” “I want you.” Ugh. “How do you want me?” “I like it all.” I’m over it. I spend all day at work and all night at home being the boss and making decisions. I want someone to take over. I want someone to take advantage of me. I want to submit to someone else. Is that too much to ask?

Before you ask, yes, I told him all of these. Several times actually. I told him he could do anything he wanted to me and I’d be all in. Except penetration with no lube. That’s not fun for anyone. Spank me, slap me, tie me up, fuck my mouth, fuck my ass, blindfold me, use toys, talk dirty. I am up for it all. Hell, I even do things I don’t like because I know the other person does. 

Maybe he’s just not the guy. Maybe he’s just like me – dominating all day and wants to submit at night. And that’s fine if he wants that. But that’s not the kind of guy I can deal with long term. I want a man. I want someone that will be my equal during the day, but my boss at night.