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.

D-Day

The Backscratcher was counting down the days until my doctor gave us the go ahead to get down.  I don’t know if it was the hormones, how I felt about my body or the fact that I got used to not having sex, but I wasn’t really looking forward to it.  Not only that, but we’d lost some of the passion in the last several months because of the stresses of pregnancy and parenting.  I didn’t have high hopes for our encounter.

He built it up like a fantasy.  Promises of what he would do to me and how it would feel filled our conversations.  I wanted to be excited and positive. Unfortunately, it wasn’t like a fantasy at all. It was awkward. Unsexy. Not one ounce of passion.  It was like having sex with a virgin.  The connection wasn’t there, but neither was the physical feeling either.  Even though I ended up having an unnatural childbirth, it still did things to my lady parts.  Basic positions felt differently (not in a good way) and he couldn’t go all the way in because of the tilt left in my cervix.

Needless to say, it was a letdown.  I wanted to like it.  I wanted to get my groove back.  I wanted this to be the jolt that I needed.  We’ve had sex a few more times since then, but it wasn’t until the third time that I felt like things were getting anywhere close to normal.  I’m hoping this is one of those things repaired by time.  And practice.  I am going to be a mom for the rest of my life, so I better get used to the difficulties that come with it.

Pity Sex

He pulled his pants down and stood in front of me. His dick was three-quarters of the way hard; I’m sure the cock ring helped. “Open your mouth.” Normally I would have been into it, but not this time. Were my hormones so off that even the potential for dominance wasn’t going to do it for me?

I continued sitting there, uninterested. He pushed his dick closer to me, rubbing it on my face. “I’m just not into it.” He tried kissing me and rubbing my tits in hopes that it would spur some lust, but it didn’t. I felt bad leaving him hanging, so I conceded. “You can put your dick in me if you want.”

It was like high school sex. I just laid there barely making a sound or movement. I made the occasional gesture to let him know he was leaning on my stomach too hard, but offered little else. He kissed me again, but I didn’t even close my eyes. I was like a doll. Or a corpse. His eyes were closed most of the time so maybe he was imagining someone much hotter than me. Someone without 25 pounds protruding from their stomach. I thought he wasn’t going to finish, but I guess that goes to show it only takes a tight hole and a good fantasy.

(I wrote this on January 29th. Sorry for the delay!)