He Rocked My World & I Left

For the past year, I have abstained from sex. At the time, it felt vital in my self-love journey. Also, working on my first book proved to be a great distraction. I honestly was doing well and didn’t miss it. I no longer abused sex. I no longer used it to self-medicate. I didn’t think it could make someone love me. My mind felt clearer.

This past July I met The One Who is a Nudist on Craigslist.

Wait! Let me explain!

I love reading the Missed Connection section on CL. They range from being humorous, romantic, or downright naughty. You never know what you’re going to get!

There was an ad that caught my eye and I decided to respond. The poster lived in my apartment complex and was looking for someone who was sitting poolside the previous day. He posted a pic of his body and I thought he was the Russian guy that stayed around the corner. I later realized it wasn’t him. We kept chatting anyway and he eventually guessed who I was. He told me what car I drove and that he has checked me out before. We exchanged numbers and chatted from time to time. We even hung out without having sex. His nudity was a bit awkward at first but I started not to notice after a while. I eventually joined in on the fun. It was quite liberating!

He reached out to me after returning from a business trip last month. It was one of those nights when I was feeling lonely and craved human touch. We shared a joint, drank beers and listened to some chill-out music as usual. The vibe was phenomenal.

One thing led to another and his hands and mouth were everywhere! My body became his instrument and he plucked every string! His stamina was mind-blowing. I haven’t had sex like that since my early 20s! I had to tap out after a couple of hours. My soul felt like it was leaving my body.

creamed

He wanted me to spend the night. I’m not used to sleeping next to anyone because they never stay. I’m so used to everyone leaving. It felt very awkward to me. He also snored like a freight train. Around 7am I left while he was sleeping and texted a lame excuse.

It’s been a month and there’s been little to no communication. After he failed to reply to my last couple of messages, I took the hint. Maybe he was offended that I left. Maybe it was a one night thing for him. At this point I do not care. But why did it have to be so good?

IT. WAS. SO. GOOD.

Tried to Be Stella & Didn’t Get My Groove Back

(Reader discretion advised y’all)

A few years ago, I worked at a university bookstore during my undergraduate studies. At the bookstore I met a 19-year-old student. Let’s call him The One Who Was Too Young. He always flirted with me and hinted that he was interested in me sexually. I was around 28 at the time and did not take him seriously. He was just a little boy in my mind. Also, I was madly in love with The One Who Didn’t Feel the Same at that time. Anywho…

A few years after departing the bookstore, I would chat with him from time to time. Every so often, he would remind me of his interest but I always brushed him off. Well…up until a few weeks ago. I finally gave in after chatting with him back and forth. How come? I’m not quite sure. I could chalk it up to the hypersexuality, his persistence, or the fact that a 25-year-old thought I was hella sexy. I believe it was a combination of everything. His unwavering interest began to intrigue me. He was not that 19-year-old boy that hinted around anymore. He was bold and downright kinky! He told me about all the naughty things that he wanted to do to me. I wanted to see if he could back it up!

Younger men seemed to be all the rage for women in my age group and older. “Do it,” they said. “Younger men have so much stamina,” they said. “Girl, get your groove back,” they said. I began to imagine his stamina. I imagined being 25 again and how ravenous my sexual appetite was. I imagined being enthralled by him. It’s been a long time since I was plowed into oblivion. The thought of new penis was also alluring. I equated it to the new car smell. The anticipation was killing me!

He came over to my apartment a few days later. The vibe was awkward. The small talk was awkward. The flirting was awkward. It was going downhill. I decided to ward off the awkwardness with fellatio. He went bananas. He went so bananas he exclaimed, “We should record this and put it on YouTube! This is off the chain!” Yeah. He said that…YouTube…off the chain. How sexy…

He used one of my dildos on me and that reeked of awkwardness too.  It seemed like he tried to emulate a porn scene. He had no sense of timing nor rhythm. He was trying way too hard. Hello! There’s an art to stroking buddy! He also kept talking, talking and talking. It wasn’t sexy. It was wordy mess! Nothing felt organic. It felt manufactured and amateur to me. I could not wait for it to be over! I went down again so he could jizz and get the hell out of my apartment! Aren’t I so accommodating?

As he was about to leave (after his vienna sausage jizzed like an uncontrollable faucet), he made a bold move. He stepped back inside and aggressively bent me over to penetrate me. Was he redeeming himself? Was he showing some initiative? Where was the guy several minutes ago? This was going to be awesome! My engine was revving. Well…not for long. He quickly pumped about 3-4 times, pulled out and said, “Yeah. You got good pussy too. I wanted a sample.” He exited my apartment a few moments later. Utter shock rushed over my body. What was this? Was I being punk’d? Where was Ashton? Was Ashton going to fuck me like he hated me after this monstrosity I just endured?

We weren’t in contact for a couple of weeks. He reached out to me and questioned the lack of communication. He also expressed his desire to “see” me again. I declined and told him that we weren’t sexually compatible. It was a hard pill for him to swallow but I think he understood—after several days of pestering me. This experience definitely deserves to be on my list.