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Trying to put all thoughts of Lee’s message out of the way, I answer Drew honestly. “No, I’m not seeing anyone else. I thought we talked about that the other week and agreed that if we ever wanted to go on a date or fuck someone else, we would tell each other. We aren’t exclusive or dating, but it just feels polite to tell each other when it gets to that stage. I would have done that anyway, but it was you that suggested it.”
Drew shifts his gaze to the floor, and thankfully for him, his reality show starts up again after the commercial break, and he clarified that we don’t talk while his show is on. I should have run the minute he enforced this rule on date number one. I’m such a twit for still being here.
I zone out for the next half an hour, playing with my phone, rereading Lee’s message and trying to think of an appropriate reply. I’m pulled back to the room when the show’s theme tune blasts out of the television speakers, and Drew talks again. “So, are you looking for us to be exclusive?” he asks, as he turns the volume down—not off, just down!
“I don’t think I said that specifically. What I said is that I won’t sleep with someone who is fucking other people. We don’t have to be boyfriend and girlfriend, and do all the soppy shit. I just want to know that the person I’m with isn’t with someone else, too.” I don’t think that’s an unreasonable request, and when Drew ducks his eyes, looking down at the cigarette he’s rolling up, I should have been suspicious, but I’m not. Or maybe I am and I’m just choosing to ignore the obvious?
“You know I don’t do girlfriends. I don’t like to be tied down. But I’m happy to just see one person,” he states as he takes a drag from his cigarette, lounging back on the opposite sofa.
“Okay,” I add, not really understanding why he’s bringing up something we hashed out weeks ago when we first started sleeping together.
“Good. Now, why don’t you come over here and give me a blow job?” Fuck, is that romantic?!
I know I should read between the lines, questioning him on why he would bring up something like that when we sorted it out a while ago. But, I guess the saying ignorance is bliss really is true.
“I thought this time you were going to go down on me, show me the magic fingers you tempted me with when we first started talking,” I ask, remembering all the messages we sent over the dating app. He was hot, sexy, and kept telling me exactly what I wanted to hear. All about his magic fingers that could find my G-spot without even trying, and about how much he loved to lick pussy. Not to mention his giant cock and the fact he liked to get rough and dirty when he fucked.
That was exactly what I was looking for. A guy to throw me around, spank my ass, and call me his slut. So, when we first had sex, to say it was a letdown was an understatement. I gave him the best blow job of his life and got him nice and ready, but then a few pumps in doggy and it was over. I barely had time to think about getting wet, and my G-spot was nowhere to be seen, let alone an orgasm. I didn’t even give a shit that he lied, and his penis was just average sized. I’ve been with men who are average, and if they know how to fucking use it, that’s all that mattered. Yet, Drew neither had the size he boasted about, he lacked the skill too.
I can hear the screams again. Get out of there. Why are you back for another round? What can I say, I’m an idiot.
“I will, but it has to be the right time. I have to be in the mood. So, why don’t you help me get in the mood with that fucking amazing mouth of yours?” he asked, his voice taking on that low husky tone he gets when he’s horny.
I drop to my knees, feeling the last drop of self-esteem fall to the floor with me, and I crawl towards him as best I can without knocking my broken foot. By the time I’m sitting in front of him, on my knees, he has his sweatpants and boxers off, and his cock is standing to attention, pre-cum dripping from the tip.
Pushing all thoughts of my dignity to one side, I lower my mouth around his cock and am rewarded with a loud groan as he thrusts his hips upwards until his dick hits the back of my throat. I suck hard, bobbing up and down the shaft, twirling my tongue around the head and along the vein on the underside—that really drives him wild. He threads his fingers through my hair, but doesn’t take control, so I continue sucking the way I know he likes.
It’s not long before his hips thrust frantically, his breathing becomes more erratic, and his cock pulses in that telltale way. I know he’s close, and so much to his disappointment, I pull away from his cock. “Nooo. Em, what the fuck?” he groans, as he slams his hand down on the sofa next to him.
I look up at him, hoping he can see the annoyance clear on my face. “Because, Drew, if you come in my mouth now, you won’t be able to fuck me. You will fall straight to sleep, and I will have hobbled all the way over here with a broken foot just to blow you.”
He looks at me with a face that says, ‘and what’s wrong with that?’. I shake my head and stand up, making my disapproval clear thanks to my glare. I’m sure he rolls his fucking eyes at me, but thankfully he stands and pulls his T-shirt off so he’s fully naked. Without saying a word, he walks towards his bedroom, just expecting me to follow—which I do—stupid me!
Upon entering his bedroom, I try not to look at all the mess surrounding the room. I’m sure underneath all the laundry there’s a carpet to be seen. There’s just crap everywhere, over every surface, but thankfully his bed looks clean with new sheets. As soon as he turns his bedroom light on, and the fucking hideous red bulb coats the room in a crimson glow—reminding me of the red-light district in Amsterdam—I remember why I usually tell him to keep the light off. I already feel slutty, without a fucking red light adding to it.
He doesn’t make any move to undress me, just sits in the middle of his bed, stroking his cock in one hand while pointing for me to join him with his free hand. I slowly remove my clothes, although why I’m dragging this out is beyond me.
“Come on, baby. Get on your hands and knees,” he purrs and I feel disgust ripple through my body. Shocker, of course, he wants to go for doggy-style again. I should have known.
Crawling onto the bed, naked, I get onto my hands and knees the same as always. I feel the bed dip as he shifts into position behind me.
He lightly strokes his finger through my slit, and for just a second I get my hopes up that this might be the start of some foreplay. Instead, he simply uses his fingers to part my lips so he can aim the tip of his cock. Unfortunately, he doesn’t aim it too well and the first couple of attempts bounce off my perineum.
“Open up for me, baby.” Argh, it’s not a matter of me opening up. It has a lot more to do with you hitting the right fucking target.
Realising he needs a bit of guiding, I reach around and take hold of the tip, guiding it to the right area. I expect him to ease into it, to get me ready first, but he doesn’t. He plunges his cock straight into my dry pussy, and I yelp from the burning sting of skin against skin.
As soon as his cock bottoms out, he doesn’t wait for me to get a little more ready. He just continues thrusting in and out at a ridiculous speed. I realise then that he doesn’t have a care in the world about if I’m enjoying it or not. I’m literally just a hole for him to use to get himself off, and the more that realisation sinks in, the shittier I feel.
It’s over all too quickly—although at that point, I didn’t exactly want to prolong it. I don’t think I even have a chance to consider getting wet, let alone for it to actually happen. I feel him pull out, and as I feel his cum trickle from my pussy, I spin around so fast, my eyebrows pulled together as I look at him with venom in my eyes.
“Why the fuck didn’t you use a condom?” I snap. I didn’t check with him before we got started because I didn’t think I needed to. We’d had this conversation weeks ago when we first slept together. He knew what I expected, and he’d never done it without one before. How the hell did I not feel it when I touched his cock to guide him in? I guess I was so keen to get it over with, it didn’t even occur to me.
Shrugging his shoulders, he leans back against the headboard and lights up a roll up that sends a billow of smoke up into the room, and the smell causes my nose to wrinkle. “I ran out of those latex free condoms you bought, and when I went to buy more, they were so fucking expensive, so I just bought normal ones. I figured we could just not use any, since I know you aren’t fucking someone else, and you’re on the pill.”
There’s so much wrong with that fucking sentence. I don’t know where to start. I feel like I should start by punching him between the eyes for deciding by himself about something that concerned us both. I don’t give a shit that I’m on the pill. I never wanted to have sex without a condom until I was in a long-term, committed relationship.
“I’m so fucking pissed at you right now,” I fume, as I try to roll off the bed. At first I try to do my best to not drip cum everywhere, but then I think, fuck it. It’s his cum, he will have to deal with it. I pick up his T-shirt and pull it over my head, trying desperately to ignore the nausea-inducing cigarette smell that clings to it. “How dare you make a decision like that, and not at least discuss it with me?”
