I had agreed to meet with this new man at a local bar. This was perhaps the first time I had ever actually agreed to meet with someone outside of my own apartment.
There was a strange, counter-intuitive safety about having these strangers just come straight to my apartment, as opposed to being seen at a bar or restaurant. I figured I had to start letting them at least attempt to impress me before I let them stick their dick in me.
I made sure to let a friend know where I was going to be, and also set up a plan to let her know whether I might need rescuing or not.
After several drinks and much conversation, he offered to drive me home. The bar wasn't too far from my apartment, but I figured he wanted to show off his wheels.
As he parked in front of my apartment, we both agreed on how we had a great time. He then leaned in for the kiss.
There is definitely a benefit to making out with a black man. As a person with full lips, I need to feel like I'm actually kissing something that isn't his face. I definitely prefer men with some substance to their brain, body, and lips.
After a couple of minutes of making out, I decided I was wet enough to invite him in.
When we got into my apartment, the making out continued. Soon, pieces of clothing were being removed. I could tell that this man was eager. I could feel that he was ready to take all of me in.
As he slid down to go down on me, I realized that he was so hungry for me he was practically so voracious. So voracious that he was breathing really heavy. So heavy that I was getting distracted by it.
Halfway through his eating me out, I suddenly realized that he sounded like a pug with breathing problems. Was he really working so hard that he sounded like a truffle-sniffing pig? It didn't help that this was a somewhat large man who was sticking his snout into my crotch area.
Don't get me wrong. After really trying hard to concentrate on what he was doing instead of what it sounded like he was doing, the oral sex was amazing. But it definitely took a bit longer than I would have liked it to.
After he dismissed himself, I knew that I just couldn't deal with his heavy breathing. It was just to distracting and I really didn't think that I could handle another session of feeling like his first meal after being stranded on a deserted island. I honestly thought that if he was having health issues that I didn't want to be the person he died on-top-of-while-inside-of.
I felt bad, because I didn't want to dismiss him because of his weight. What if he really did have a breathing problem? He deserves good sex just like the rest of us.
But I wasn't willing to settle for that. If it worked out again, I would let him back into my bed, but I wasn't going to make it happen necessarily.
I never did see him again, but I do wish him well.
Lesson Learned: There's something to be said about taking ones time to finish your meal, especially if you are the main course. But there's no need to feel like a trough during sex. It should feel delectable.
There was a strange, counter-intuitive safety about having these strangers just come straight to my apartment, as opposed to being seen at a bar or restaurant. I figured I had to start letting them at least attempt to impress me before I let them stick their dick in me.
I made sure to let a friend know where I was going to be, and also set up a plan to let her know whether I might need rescuing or not.
After several drinks and much conversation, he offered to drive me home. The bar wasn't too far from my apartment, but I figured he wanted to show off his wheels.
As he parked in front of my apartment, we both agreed on how we had a great time. He then leaned in for the kiss.
There is definitely a benefit to making out with a black man. As a person with full lips, I need to feel like I'm actually kissing something that isn't his face. I definitely prefer men with some substance to their brain, body, and lips.
After a couple of minutes of making out, I decided I was wet enough to invite him in.
When we got into my apartment, the making out continued. Soon, pieces of clothing were being removed. I could tell that this man was eager. I could feel that he was ready to take all of me in.
As he slid down to go down on me, I realized that he was so hungry for me he was practically so voracious. So voracious that he was breathing really heavy. So heavy that I was getting distracted by it.
Halfway through his eating me out, I suddenly realized that he sounded like a pug with breathing problems. Was he really working so hard that he sounded like a truffle-sniffing pig? It didn't help that this was a somewhat large man who was sticking his snout into my crotch area.
Don't get me wrong. After really trying hard to concentrate on what he was doing instead of what it sounded like he was doing, the oral sex was amazing. But it definitely took a bit longer than I would have liked it to.
After he dismissed himself, I knew that I just couldn't deal with his heavy breathing. It was just to distracting and I really didn't think that I could handle another session of feeling like his first meal after being stranded on a deserted island. I honestly thought that if he was having health issues that I didn't want to be the person he died on-top-of-while-inside-of.
I felt bad, because I didn't want to dismiss him because of his weight. What if he really did have a breathing problem? He deserves good sex just like the rest of us.
But I wasn't willing to settle for that. If it worked out again, I would let him back into my bed, but I wasn't going to make it happen necessarily.
I never did see him again, but I do wish him well.
Lesson Learned: There's something to be said about taking ones time to finish your meal, especially if you are the main course. But there's no need to feel like a trough during sex. It should feel delectable.
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