When you go through a breakup there are so many things that you go over in your mind that you may regret. Sometimes it’s the things we may say, sometimes it’s the things we may do and sometimes it’s the touches we miss. The touches that were not only sexual but also reassuring in the darkest of times. I’m not always able to say exactly how I feel but when he’d put his hands on my thigh or my waist, everything was always clear. I loved him, I loved him more than I thought I could love someone that wasn’t fully mine. Our relationship was never defined, nor was it in a box that could be picked off of a relationship shelf. When things got hard our excuse was that we are ‘us’ and that was the only explanation that was needed. I think as my love grew for him I began to see that ‘us’ wasn’t enough and I think I wanted to hear more things like we. We was moving forward, we wanted to plan a future, we wanted more kids, we wanted to have a plan for all the tomorrow’s. He blamed it on the fact that he grew up in the streets and was never able to learn how to just be with a woman, how to just be with me. So I went along with it, I went along with everything he said because he made it sound so good. He made us sound good even though it was far from. Even though I know that we shouldn’t be together I still sit here just missing him. Missing his touch. His hands would let me know how he feels and I miss the feelings, I miss knowing what was on his mind. Whether it was pinning me down while we would play fight or when he’d slip his hands up skirt to my sweet spot. The way he would wipe away my tears or the way he’d wrap his arms around me for reassurance. A break up can be a terrible thing but there is never an end for things that are meant to be. We needed to end, we needed to end because we wasn’t right but that doesn’t stop me from missing his touch, from missing his hands.
The first time I had a real orgasm, I gave it to myself. I knew sex was good and I knew it felt nice but once I had a real orgasm… it pushed me straight over the edge. The uncertainty of whether I liked it or wanted it to stop only made me want to do it more. Whether I used toys, wet fingers or told my partners to stick out their tongue… I never wanted to not feel that kind of pleasure.
Before I experienced the real thing I had many partners who all told me the same shit. How they will fuck me better then the rest, how they will make me beg for more and how I won’t ever have a better experience then with them. Yet every time it was them that was left satisfied and me exhausted from faking it and pretending to moan.
So I opted for something a bit more personal, a bit more guaranteed and now the only thing I need to worry about is if I have enough spare batteries.
But let me not lie and act like no one has ever pleasured me on this earth. Sometimes I still pick up the phone to book a session in with my neighbor. He’s saved in my contacts as big tongue Tyrone.
Five months without sex and I thought I was doing well, but I can’t get rid of all my past experiences. Everything reminds me of something sexual and I yearn for that beautiful feeling of wetness in-between my thighs. My thighs that use to be kissed, bitten, licked and caressed by men who are now no longer in my life. Just thinking about this makes my nipples swell with excitement, but once again I don’t have an eager mouth to tend to them. To suck and nibble them and push me to want more of my body explored. I need exploring, I need a warm tongue parting my pussy lips and circling my clit. I want to feel the growth of a soft penis get hard just by my touch or even the thought of going into my body. Getting a back massage while the hard wood laid on my ass cheeks just hoping that it gets slipped in. I’d settle for a finger, a masculine finger being pushed into my mouth so I’d suck, and then pushed in my ass for me to bounce back on. I need to scream someones name because of the pleasure I’m receiving, I need to beg for more. What good are thoughts of the ones that did it before?
Am I wrong for wanting a piece of him, him, her and her.
Society says it’s wrong.
My friends say I’m greedy.
Is it wrong for me to have many lovers?
Is it wrong that each of them have a special part that equates to my perfect being?
Why must I just have one mate?
Why does it have to be a man?
My auntie says “Cuz we nuh inna di batty gyal biznes”
She doesn’t understand that our culture doesn’t have to affect who I am.
He fucks me so good I lose control of my body, it surrenders to him and never puts up a fight.
She provides me with her sensual flair, making me believe in my sexiness and know that it’s ok to want the best that’s out there.
He makes me laugh and never wants to see me cry. When I’m around him I never know whether it’s day or if it’s night.
She is my provider, she makes me feel safe and warm. She never lets me have to deal with rainy days or them horrible storms.
Together they make the perfect one. The person I see myself falling and falling and falling over and over and over again in love.
Why must that be wrong?
Why is it socially acceptable for a man to gift his dick to what ever woman may blink but if a woman does the same she isn’t worth shit.
She is called a HOE, SLUT, WHORE and could never be a wife. Just because she’s living unapologetically in this crazy thing we call life.
A sexual being, yes. Also, looking for the right attributes to make the best.
Is it wrong?
Is it really wrong?
When you think about it are you truly with the one?
Or are you just with someone that was better than the rest but still missing something hun?
Live your best life and be who you want to be.
I’m only my best when I’m being me.
I love a man that can take control. I love a man that just gets on with it and doesn’t need to be told. I love a man who can sense a good opportunity. I love a man who can make me scream his name. I love a man that can make me moan. I love a man that can make me beg for more. I love a man that can fulfil all my needs. I love a man that can make me say please. I love a man that is good with his hands. I love an experienced man. I love a man that likes to watch what I can do to myself with my own hands. I love a man that always wants more. I love a man that always needs more. I love a man that isn’t afraid to ask for more. I love a man that isn’t afraid to try new things. I love a man that knows what pace will suit the mood I’m in. I love a man that doesn’t mind kissing with tongue. I love a man who doesn’t mind not doing it at home. I love a man that worships my breasts. I love a man that worships my bum. I love a man who loves my thighs. I love a man who can do it while staring deeply into my eyes. I love a man that loves what I can do with my mouth. I love a man that kisses me at the start, the end and throughout.
“Why are you moaning? I haven’t even touched you anywhere good yet. Every time you make a noise I will stop.”Damn.
He started to stroke my inner thighs again and I really tried not to make a peep but I couldn’t help but whimper when he got closer.
“Your very disobedient, aren’t you?” He whispered in my ear and really pushed me over the edge.
“I’m not I just really want you inside me!”
“Are you sure?”
He let go of my waist and pushed me against the door in the stall. He starred into my eyes while he undid his belt and then his trousers. I struggled to keep up with his stare because I wanted to look at his dick as it came out of his boxers.
“Look up, we don’t have time to get distracted, I know your going to want to suck this dick if you see it.”
I wanted to say something slick but I realised that if I saw his dick I probably would’ve wanted to suck it and this wasn’t the time.
He walked towards me and kissed me again but this time he lifted up my left leg and wrapped it around his waist. I put my other leg around him but also put my hand down to lift his dick to my pussy. When I felt the tip enter me I let go and slid down onto him. We both made a low groan as we was very aware we was in a public bathroom. He put his hands around my waist and then pushed me against the wall for extra grip. I put my hands around his neck and braced myself after seeing that ‘are you ready?’ Look in his eyes.
As soon as he felt my hands lock behind his neck he started to fuck the living daylights out of me. I started to make all sorts of noises but by the time I came I really didn’t care where I was.
“Ok I just wanted to make sure you came, this isn’t about me baby” he kissed my neck between each word.
“Should I let you cum again?”
I was so horny I couldn’t even think straight.
He put me down and then bent me over with a quickness, before I had realised what exactly was going on he was at it again. Oh this is so damn good but I know what could make it better.
“I know exactly what your thinking now, don’t worry I got you.”
With that being said, 2 seconds later I felt a wet thumb enter my ass. I almost screamed because that is my shit but I managed to keep it together. I came again and I was actually exhausted.
Trey sat on top of the closed toilet seat and then pulled me down to sit on his lap:
“Is this Valentine’s Day going as good as you thought it would?”
I looked him straight in his beautiful face and replied, “no, it’s going even better baby.”
He just smiled and then kissed me.
“Good to hear, now let’s sort ourselves out and finally go and eat.”
We walked in and all eyes were on us, maybe that could’ve been because we were ridiculously over dressed. I was all leg, he was all muscle, it was a bit much for the dinner time crowd but we didn’t care. The view of London was to die for and the cocktails were amazing. I made a mental note that we would definitely come back here. We was at the bar all of five minutes and our waiter came to take us to our table. We sat down for what seemed like a second before Trey leaned over towards me with that look in his eyes, “Go to the toilet and take off your panties, I will be in there in a minute.”Ummm is he joking or is he joking?
“Are you joking?” I said this through my quiet attempt at a laugh. He looked me dead in my face with the most serious expression, “Do I seem like I’m joking?”
I didn’t reply to him I just got up and went to the toilet, bare in mind that there were other people in the shard so this was very risky. Not that I was really complaining, sex in a public place was definitely on my bucket list.
I walked in and I had to take a minute to admire the view and the bathrooms were even nice. The walls inside each stall was like mirrors but blue and it smelt like spring time. I walked in and pulled down my knickers and just stood there. This was so exciting, just waiting there got me wet. Five minutes went by and I was growing impatient, ten minutes went by and I was over it. I was horny as hell waiting for him and he didn’t even bloody come. Just when I walked out the stall he was standing there, starring at me.
“Ummm Trey, why didn’t you come in?” My tone sounded irritated but I was, why was he just waiting here.
“You want me don’t you?”
Is he trying to annoy me or is this just for banter.
“Of course I want you, I’m horny as hell, why didn’t you come in to get me?”
He gave me that damn sexual look again that he always does, “I wanted you to get really ready for me and a little irritated because I knew this would end in the best result. You ready?”
He walked towards me and I backed up back into the stall. When he got fully in he closed the door behind him and then grabbed me by my waist. I looked up at him and he gave me a little smile and then kissed me. He kissed me like he was trying to make me cum just by his lips. Maybe it was just my imagination but the kiss was something out of this world. It was so good I didn’t even notice his hand going up my thighs. I started to moan already and he hadn’t even reached his destination yet.