bluntconfessionsofyourtwent-blog

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His face between my legs

This is a difficult post to write now I've sat down to write it and had to re-live it all. 

I went on a date with a new bloke, J, he had well and truly tickled my humour taste bud, this bloke had got the banter.  I've always loved this about someone, he matched my quirky wildly inappropriate humour.  Our date was going swimmingly, but I couldn't tell what was going to happen afterwards, not long term just short term. Was there the possibility my 30min long shower in preparation was going to put to use? We'd chosen a casual date sitting in a local pub (which was nicely interrupted by my friend Mark who happens to live opposite the pub and in direct eye line of us sat by the window.  Mark proceeded to send me naughty messages all evening until J turned and waved at mark, who then reached level 65 of creeping and turned off his lights and perved from the darkness. Cheers Mark!) and it was all going really well. 

We went out for a cigarette and made friends with some bearded man and his friends.  The stranger held the power in this situation and did the whole "ohh you're on your first date" but me being me just made it even more awkward and spoke my feelings and responded with "yeah but I'm not sure we're going to fuck tonight, but I reckon I'll see him again.. maybe this ones a keeper eh!!". Don't worry I am fully aware of how creepy this is, how blunt and how awkwardly honest it is.  But luckily for me, J is even more extreme in alll those things than I.  He is honestly the most socially capable but carefree person I know, he has no social barriers.  He can chat to anyone, he's the bloke everyone wants to be friends with and everyone envies for being so confident.  He's also louder than I am.. NOT POSSIBLE I hear you say- WRONG. He's beautifully loud.

My ridiculously long shower that night preparing every centimeter of my body with a hair follicle was to come to wasted end that evening but that wasn't the last time I saw J.  As I said before, this is hard post because this is where I obtained the ability to be a grade A prick, and did the classic and played two guys off against each other.  Juggling my sexual balls I played J and my next sexual encounter A at the same time and it all got a bit messy.  If I'm truly honest I did fall for J quite hard, but was smitten with the allure of A. 

J made me laugh like no one, so when one night having chilled with his housemates we hit the sack and he mid-joke thrust his hands down my pants, it didn't take me by surprise.  He even had the courtesy to finish his joke before he started the next venture. J was experienced, although upon his own confession much of it was using women for his own kicks, the momentum of his movements told me that he'd learnt a few things along the way. I wasn't on the pill at this point (long story) and J didn't have any condoms, I'm vigilant with birth control because although I will one day be an awesome Mum, that will happen when I chose it! I was rolling around the bed pained by the temptation and seduction, we started doing the one thing I'd always promised myself no. I then proceeded to halt proceedings, nothing kinky or alluring, and beg- butt naked, using my breasts as weapons.  True to form I managed to convince J to walk back to mine so we could carry on deed with no morning after panic. 

Sex was good.  Nothing amazing and probably not one of the top rankings but there was some of those "emotions" attached and that automatically makes it a little different doesn't it.  I properly loved being around this bloke, he had sucked me in and I was a limpet for his attention. I wanted him to make me laugh and teach me the ways of being even more socially unacceptable. He's a few years older than me and just had this whole worldly act going on and I was suckered.  I just wasn't attracted to him.  I thought he was attractive, just not to me, I didn't want to jump on him and let him devour me. I wanted his time and attention but I didn't want to see his face between my legs.   

We had sexual encounters and they were always enjoyable until the last time when I was lying there and knew I couldn't do it again. It broke my heart, his energetic thrusting, grunting and request to jizz on my face became all too much.  I managed a sneaky maneuver and caught the warm come with my tits. Lying remotely unsatisfied and upset that I had found myself using this genuinely nice bloke for my own kicks pained me, I'd become that prick that everyone hates. That would be our last sexual encounter and I wasn't sorry about that, I was only sorry because I knew I'd lose him.

There was shouting and doors slammed, there was even a passionate movie style embrace which gave me tingly vagina.  The moment J lunged at me and said "I can't let you leave like this, I won't say goodbye like this, you can't leave it on this note.." and proceeded to embrace me and kiss me like he hadn't seen me in a year, or that I'd told him I'd suck his dick for a solid hour. It was cute and lovely and funny and everything I'd told everyone I knew I wanted, but it still wasn't enough...

The moral of this story kids, is don't play with your own emotions. J was mildly besotted with me and I played on this. We are SO similar is scary, I'd go as far as to say that he's the male version of me.  I wanted to hear how much I meant to him without telling him I wasn't that into him. This went on for much longer than it should have, in circles a few times and in hindsight he was the best thing to happen to me in a while and I really wish I hadn't fucked him over. 

But little did I know, my next sexual encounter was going to be the most adventurous and graphic I could have ever imagined it to be...

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My butt was pressed against his face

I met this bloke, A, he was really into films and quite a good laugh.  I do generally rate people, as most do, on their ability to make me laugh. He had provided more laughs in the first hour of meeting him than I had previously with the bloke on holiday.   We bantered about Shrek, sang the Mission Impossible theme song and acknowledged that since it was a Sunday and now 10pm and we were still in the pub, there was no way he was getting the train home.   Having both mutually acknowledged that he was coming back to mine, a sense of ease hit the evening.

A little worse for wear we stumbled back to mine, housemates had been briefe and we're on lock down from interruptions.  Obligatory "I'm okay, catch you tomorrow" texts sent, I was ready.

Small talk aside, I was THROWN onto the bed.  Some may barely flatter an eyelid at this, but I am NOT a small girl, the ability to throw me anywhere is an achievement so the fact A literally picked me up and chucked me across the room on to the bed without starting it with "1..2..3..GO" was a massive accomplishment. I was sold.   He then proceeded to POUNCE on me, panther style, stealthily removing any remaining clothes and forcefully shoving his tongue in my mouth at speed.  This is where I had to stop him... 

I don't know about you, but there is nothing I enjoy less than someone insisting on putting their entire tongue in my mouth.  There is a time, a place, and to me it is only justifiable when you have to use it to insinuate what should be done next... not for shits and giggles.  Having made A acknowledge this was how the evening was going to commence, he soon enthusiastically ensued.  He had the whole 'heavy breath, intense look' going on, which was fun for about 15 mins, until I was becoming alarmed at whether he was actually an knife wielding murderer.  I froze for a minute, dreading what photo they'd steal from my Facebook when they write the missing poster, would they use the ones of me with disgusting hair or a dreaded "tagged photo"?! But then he slowly got down to true satisfying business and I abruptly gave a lot less shit about the missing poster photo.

He stopped half way through at one point, in a story I later told my friends and they were truly disgusted at, but here goes.  He had a request, of which I'm always interested to hear so I listened.  He had a thing about spit.. not the obligatory 'spit on my dick before you suck it', he wanted to spit in my mouth.  I obliged, nothing crazy to me and we continued.  All my friends were mortified when I told them and in hindsight it makes me go "ewwies" a bit. Gives me squirmy vagina too though, so whatd'ya know. 

This guy demonstrated in every way that he had learnt what women wanted from each and every sexual encounter he had had.  He didn't hold back, experience and confidence oozed out of everything he did.. and owned.  He dramatically pulled me to the end of the bed stood up and we proceeded with me half hanging off the bed half held up by the solid motions.  At this point, A demonstrating his strength again, picks me up and flings me against the wall.  I'm there desperately clinging to his neck, on the verge of screaming to the pure elation and giving zero fucks about the noise we're making. 

I was flung all about my bedroom, from desk to door, to bed, to window, to the wardrobe - which proved disgustingly unstable. I was exhausted but I was truly addicted.  Another round finished we paused on the bed in a heap to catch our breaths. I was left feeling fulfilled, exhausted and ridiculously liberated. He had well and truly given me a good seeing to and yet I was still gagging for another go- I just wanted to see what else I could learn from him.  He took guidance and instruction well, he let me have my moments of power but he shut me up when I needed. I'd literally found my perfect sexual partner. And before I knew it his head was between my legs again and we were off again...

The morning after was just another repetition of continuous orgasms such as the evening previous. I made him a brew, we chatted, I walked everywhere like I "had been torn a new one" and with that he left. Scanning my room for structural damage, I noticed where I had been flung up against a wall, my arse had been pressed against a photo of my dog.  It has since never been the same, also noticed that A was staring at a photo of my Dad as he fucked me. Interesting.   Really really regrettably, due to the situation that was about to unfold,  I didn't have a chance to take advantage of A again...

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Sand in places too explicit to even comprehend

So, last summer I convinced my mother to come on holiday with me, I wanted a week of sunshine and bonding and truthfully, had not put anything other than that on the cards.  Little did my poor mother and I know that was of course not going to happen...

Our first proper night at the hotel, because we arrived ridiculously late in the eve/early in the morning the day before, the reps announced there was a bit of a bar crawl for guests and then the staff would meet us out later.  I spent about half an hour deliberating whether or not I'd be able to persuade my mum that I should leave her on our first night and feeling terribly guilty for it too.  I think had to convince her not to come along as "it wouldn't be her scene", which truthfully it wouldn't be! She's a cool Mum, but not 'watching people in their 20's get shitfaced' cool. 

Thank goodness she didn't come along.  We went to an English pub, then to a karaoke bar (absolutely bossed tenacious D!) and then we ended up at a bar in which you got an hour and a cup to have as many drinks as you like and a time written on your hand to when this ended.  I was pretty much sober when we got to the final bar, this deteriorated pretty quickly.. 

Within a matter of moments I was completely shitfaced stumbling around with strangers and it was absolutely HILARIOUS.  I've pulled dance moved I've still not recreated to this day for fear of breaking a leg, I'm not sure how I did it but it was wonderful, shamelessly wonderful.

Then the reps arrive from the hotel and like every holiday story, this is where the trouble starts. One of the reps to a shine to me, L, it may have had something to do with the fact my mildly tanned bosoms were on top form that evening.  I ran (literally, ran from a crowd of people) to the toilet, in an attempt to compose myself. An attempt that was entirely futile. 

Long story short, after some faffing and some inconspicuous tactical 'walking out the club one after each other' so no one saw, we headed for the beach.  This was mistake number one for the evening.  In the movies it's wildly romantic, in reality it's disgustingly messy and awkward.  It's also not helped when you're being dragged along and you're 85% sure you just want to chunder more than have sex. 

It was not working, logistically, on the beach. Legs were shoved at all angles and this certainly didn't help the sickness bubbling away. The sand presented too many dramas and the sun beds well, they're not comfy without a towel or a matt and although effort was tried we decided it best to carry on at L's apartment.  We wander there, and I am now a solid 99.9% sure I want to chunder- so I do.  Not only do I just hurl up on the side of the road, I think this is in some way alluring and I turn for a smooch afterwards. I'm a disgrace!

We find ourselves back at his apartment, enthusiastically doing the deed, as everyone seems to put that little bit more of an effort in when they're drunk. Seeing as I was completely shit faced you can imagine the effort levels I was willing to go to, also to counteract the embarrassment from before.

On almost, ALMOST, so very very close to completion of the deed, I was then 100% going to chunder.  I jumped of my, notably rather large, podium and ran for the bathroom and proceeded to paint his toilet with my sick. Poor bloke was evidently labeling me "problem child" and rubbed my back before I announced the night over, and hung my head in shame as I got dressed and walked back.  Both an absolute struggle and kudos for me for actually managing to do this.

My mum was less pleased to see me at 2.30am, I convinced her I was fine, the minute I got into bed I realised I wasn't. Unfortunately, or fortunately (if you already know the story) this leads on to a more embarrassing story about me, which I just can't bring myself to publicise- that says something!  I have almost never in my life been that drunk and it did not show a particularly delicate side of myself...

Needless to say on the L front, after a disgraced 'morning after head nod' around the pool, I made it up to him later on in the week- several times. I'm not sure about him (and I'm not sure my ego would want me to know), but I had loads of fun, top marks for enthusiasm even after I've chundered in his bathroom. Commitment on his behalf there!

Bronzed and holiday romance 'filled' I was then ready for my final year at Uni..

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Reclaimed and renewed...almost.

My next encounter was stemmed with excitement, after my last experience with W I was more than excited to be back out on the band-wagon and put that whole nightmare down to experience and an absolute write off.  It taught me a lot though, gut instinct counts for a lot- when you think the guy is going to be a prick, more often than not - YOU'RE RIGHT.  Woman/general human being instinct is the one at setting of alarm bells.  Boy did they ring. 

This was, of course, another alcohol fueled night with L, my wing-woman who was at this point, doing a fabulous job. Kudos there. We ended up leaving the club alone, bitterly disappointed that everyone seemed about 13, pre-pubescent and probably didn't know their way around a breast let alone a vagina.

We wanted men, and we wanted them now. Preferably in and around our genitals.

We were having our last cigarette when we were classically hit on by the drags of men leaving the club. A scenario which screams "scraping the barrel". I was not amused and having had one guy nearly march me off on my todd, I was left bewildered and starting to sober up. 

To cut a long story and long cuffle short, we found ourselves sharing a taxi with these two blokes because they lived on the road opposite. We vowed to merely share the taxi and make our way home.  So, obviously, we find ourselves in their lounge approximately 17 mins later being poured vodka shots.  L has spent the whole taxi journey being forced fed this guys tongue, in what she went on to describe as one of the worst taxi journeys of her life. He didn't take no for an answer, nor did he notice her repeatedly wiping her face every time he lunged. Not. Good.

L was, understandably, trying to escape at any cost. This bloke was all over her. He even started calling her his girlfriend, we exchanged "the look" and I started planning our escape route.  To my angst, his mate, the one I'd been joined to, was actually alright and having a bit of banter with me at how shocking his mate was at any form of tact or sexual allure. He quickly sussed we weren't sticking around and were making for the door, grabbed my phone and put his number in and rang it so he had mine. He gave me a wink and whispered in my ear "Give me 15 mins to get him into bed and I'll be round".  We left and trotted home, not after a slightly awkward encounter of L and these blokes housemates who she knew. Excellent.

This whole whispering in my ear business was exciting, I felt like a bond girl! It was nearing 5am at this point, the alcohol was lagging and I was fading. Lo and behold, he turned up on my door step, suddenly a million more times attractive because it was almost like he had fought to come see me! He apologised for making me wait and we sat on my bed, with the awkward "I'm here to fuck but don't want to just lunge at you..." air about the room. We got distracted from our genitals and got into this long in depth chat about the world and each other.  It was all becoming a bit intense and intimate, all of which I was 100% not ready for. So, I did the only thing I knew best. I lunged at him and started to strip. Worked a treat and until long we were in the throws of passion. He was enthusiastic, and as I've said before that often counts for a lot. 

The classic line in one night stands, which for some reason I have NO IDEA why it comes up, every time.. "so how many people you shagged then..?" I guess it's human nature and for men probably a dent to the ego if they think they've been outnumbered. I can safetly say, even at the grand age of 21, it's about quality not quantity.  Don't get me wrong quantity is of course divine and not to be taken for granted, but if you're not cutting it then doesn't matter how many times your throbbing member comes at me, it's probably a fake orgasm love.

What this bloke taught me, despite leaving at about 8.30am barely staying the night, to get back so his friend wouldn't get irate if he woke up alone,(hah gayyy), was that I was in fact a broken woman at this point. This genuinely nice guy, who was hot and could hold a conversation (always a bonus) and had asked to see me again, repeatedly, and I couldn't face it.  I knew, at this point some shit was going down and I had to get it resolved before I fell into the arms of anybody else.

The shenanigans were beyond fun but I wasn't doing myself any favours in denying what was going on in my head. I was a mess...

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Beyond the basics..

As much as S taught me about the basics of sexual encounters with strangers, by the end of our short but intense ordeal, he had become quite familiar.  You start to notice the beauty spots and his abs looked ever more delicious every time I saw them.

  On another encounter with a stranger in the throws of alcohol came when my partner in crime was well suited to some randomer and I feeling more than sorry for myself, picked up a lose cannon, scrapings from the floor and proceeded to take him.  Already you can probably sense the less than happy tone I have towards him...

We we're all 4 of us in the taxi back to our house (rule number one girls...) and my decision was beginning to dawn on me. This bloke did not shut up, we got out the taxi and L and I decided to have a pre-coital fag.  Being the classy birds we are, we slyly gave each other the looks. Mine was a more "wtf have I done...reckon I could run inside and get away with this..?!".

We then said our goodbyes, wished each other well and headed off to our rooms for evenings for our sexual delights.

I thought that I was being presumptuous about this bloke, he was really chatty an was quite affectionate for a one night stand and this had kind of thrown me. When we returned to my bedroom... it just went down hill.  I was feeling drunker and drunker by the minute and, quite frankly was looking for a quick shag to send me off to sleep. Oh no, this bloke had other plans. I went with it, thinking maybe I could learn something.

We start the romantic kissing, then the stripping, then the ridiculous process of familiarising yourself with a strangers body- which often just entails sticking parts of them in your mouth.

I relaxed into it and found myself having an O.K time, he didn't have the power and excitement I found with S but he had enthusiasm and some times that counts for a lot.   It went on and on though, there was me getting ever more queasy and wishing he'd cum and roll over so we could both sleep.  He then flopped.  The poor kid had had enough, much like me. Absolutely fine by me, I felt sorry for him, he was doing well. But this bloke was not giving up, he was getting ruder and ruder towards me and then evidentially decided he wanted to be KINKY AS FUCK. A level of kinky that's only really done when you've been with someone for more than an hour.

His best idea, was to spin me onto my back, grab my neck, putting his full weight onto me and attempt to insert his flaccid, at best, penis into me. At great speed.  As you can imagine, I was lying there MORTIFIED and oh so very close to being sick on him. In hindsight I really wished I had. In the end he got up it again, minus any chundering and finished the job and we fell asleep.

Trying to get rid of him the next morning was horrific. He wouldn't let me sleep and insisted on rubbing his erect penis into my back and grabbing my hand to make me touch it.  Probably just attempting to affirm to me that he could get an erection. Congratulations mate..now let me fucking sleep. It took me over an hour to get the moron to leave, in the end resulting with me marching him to the door and literally kicking him out.

He made the rookie error of mentioning his surname, L and I Facebook stalked him the next day.. OH SWEET JESUS. This absolute wanker had a girlfriend.. not only that but they had been together like a week, all honeymoon and he'd just spent a god awful night with me.

  What an absolute wanker all round..

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So the sex continues

So L and I hear from S and R again, we have many late night sexual accounters. Which is often much better for me with S than it was for her with R. 

Much credit has to go to the splendidness that was the sex I encountered with S, the cocoon of comfort I found myself in really allowed me to open up to what was basicall a stranger. We both knew where we stood with each other and it was great. It was never going to be a long term thing, but it was real and it was great and really great.  But most importantly I had never orgasmed like I had before, for so long and so many times. What more could a girl want when she's recovering from a broken heart?! He listened to me go on about things and we kinda shared a few secrets together all the while not getting in too deep.  It was all going swimmingly..

Until one night L and I were out, we'd spotted S and R from a far and made out advances. Their housemates were also out that night and I had of course met them on many mornings walking in shame. One of their housemates came up to me, even to this day I don't know what happened next and whether it was a trick or planned or not.  S had been a bit distance all night and whilst R was all over my friend L, I had been pied which was slowly getting more awkward.  His housemate came over, must have known who I was and kissed me. I was in the process of backing away and saying I was actually seeing S and lots of "errmmm get your tongue out of my mouth" to turn round, like something out of the movies to find S, staring right at us through parted crowds by the bar.  I immediately ran over like a whimpy child and tried to explain, but he was having none of it and to be fair to him if it was the other way round I would have agreed.  I crossed the line but it wasn't a line I'd actually chosen to cross to be fair to me on the other hand.

This then lead to a pretty awkward night, L and R were necking on nicely, we were leaving and it all went a bit tits up. I lost S in the confusion and never really got to explain myself.  L and R came back and got it on, I was then left on my own feeling sorry for myself gutted that it had come to this.  S then sent a shitty text with his housemates number and told me to "suck his cock instead" excellent. I don't ever really recall seeing them again, but I am sorry for how it all came to blows and the awkwardness of it but it was wonderful wonderful eye opening sex which enthralled and invigorated me.

This was to form the basis of my next sexual encounters...

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The next slutty chapter

So began, after the fateful night of face bumping into a strange man, who coincidentally I forgot to mention had the same aftershave and birthday as my ex-boyfriend. To close to home. I still can't remember his name...

Then brought a lovely evening to Café Parfait in Southampton, as this I the town in which I have chosen to undertake my student days and will obviously feature heavily.

All the girls from my house had chosen to go out and despite, at this point being second years, us being I Southampton so long a few of us hadn't evr been to Parfait on a Thursday night. We were massively enticed by the 'Chocolate Factory' themed evening.  We donned the glad rags and little did we know...sexual awakening was just round the corner!

The night passed by, looks were thrown across the dance floor, epic dance moves were conducted and copious drinks were drunk. It was just after about half way through the night and one of my housemates seriously fell down the stairs and was in a lot of pain. NOTE: this wasn't drunkness just wet slippery stairs and she grazed her entire back, poor kid.

My other single lady was to my right and eagerly scouting the talent as I was. We then had two good looking lads approach us (R&S), and one walked to dance with her, I had this awkward look with his mate like.. "right well we either stand here like lemons or we neck on too..?". Somewhere in the chaos a blue loo roll, which I remember distinctly as being thrown about, being the witty 12 year old flirt I am, I lobbed it at S's head and it did actually hurt him. Inner sexual nurse came out in me and well.. all kicked off from there. At which my other housemates feeling suitably grossed out left me and my girlfriend L too it.  Promising to stay together and be safe, they left us unbeknownst to the cheekiness we were about to get up to. to be fair.. we didn't know either.

They were adamant we went back to them, we wanted to go back to ours, this battle went on for a bit but with a promise that we were still together and safe we went back to theirs. They lived fairly close and paid for the taxi...win?

The sexual deviance had only just started, L went upstairs to what she then described as 'okay' sex. She figured he was  bit lazy she had to do most of the work. I think he came quite quickly too.. all in all I don't think she was particularly impressed and they fell asleep.

Meanwhile..petrified me, on now sleeping with someone else for the first time in a long time was beginning to bare all to a complete stranger who was, in my eyes, was pretty fit. I then proceeded to have the best night sex of my entire life. He made me feel entirely womanly, attractive yet deceptively cared for. We enjoyed banter during moments of rest, we feel effortlessly into each other and was like having sex with someone you've known for ages.

The fact that my first ever one night stand was so easy and nice really pulled the wools over my eyes, and I think, without being massively dramatic, S really was a game changer. He knew he'd got me under the thumb and I had him too. We both knew there was no long time future and he knew my heart was still healing but there was an undeniable sexual heat and chemistry between us.

8am the next morning having gone to sleep at 7am after what can only described as a multiclimax seeing too. L and I clambered onto the street looking like absolute prostitutes and got a taxi home. Interestingly, as I didn't know the one night stand etiquette I was leaving without giving my number, but S stopped me in the door. Sensing he'd enjoyed it as much as me, especially with the sperm stains all over the bed AND ME, I gave him my number.

But that wasn't the last L and I would hear of those boys...

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in the beginning

I became newly single after a lovely 2 year relationship in early 2013 and was, what I can now safely say, fairly naïve to the sexual world around me. I had had 3 sexual partners in total at the grand age of 20, I'd only had sex with people who I'd been in a relationship with. One of those men was on-off for a good few years.

Now admittedly, I had probably had more sex than a lot of my peers who hadn't been in a relationship and had merely been "putting it about" with strangers.  I'd also had the pleasure to experience sex with someone I knew I loved, more on that another time.

Sex for me, for a while, was off the card whilst I got through the traumatic "WHY WONT HE LOVE ME" phase. However, on pretty much my first night out after the break up, which he was due to attend at one point, I stumbled upon a stranger in the dark and proceeded to do the typical face bashing (formally known as kissing) that happens in nightclubs when one has consumed ridiculously large amounts of alcohol.

It was ...somewhat enjoyable, but more scary than anything else. Then the inevitable.."your place or mine?"  - it then dawned on me that I had bitten off more than I could chew. Not literally...that's gross. To which I had housemates crowding round playing devils advocate in my ear "what you going to do..you going to do it?...don't do it!...HAVE YOU SHAVED?!"- all the most important questions.

In fact, I had deliberately not prepared the lady nether regions so I couldn't do something I knew deep down I didn't want to. Kerfuffling home I had a chance to reflect on the almost, had been, experience with...I can't even remember his name. Nevermind, that's obviously irrelevant.

Because unbeknownst to be I was about to embark on the biggest sexual awakening yet...