Candy Corn Hookups, pt. 2
"Well, they can't all be winners, can they?" --Bad Santa, the advent calendar incident
Our next Candy Corn Hookup category is:
BAD MANNERS There are the minor transgressions of good behavior e.g. Nick, an otherwise excellent hookup, brings three bottles of water to our tryst, and over the course of two hours, downs them all without offering me a single drop. Not a huge deal but still something that makes you go hmm.
Medium transgressions might include keeping a person waiting for more than ten minutes (especially without an explanation). And this pertains to any situation, not just hook ups. A more egregious lack of manners includes Anthony, with whom I was to frolic on the family boat that was docked in a local harbor. We met in the parking lot before making a rather lengthy trek to the boat itself. It was nighttime and poorly lit along the floating walkway. Anthony takes off at the speed of sound throwing an occasional glance over his shoulder to make sure I'm following. I'm 5'3" and sporting heels at the end of my proportionately short legs. He is 6' and navigating a route familiar to him with me scampering after him like an indentured concubine. If I turn a heel and take a header off the edge of the pier, I seriously wonder if he'd fish me out. Perhaps he (A) didn't want to be seen or (B) didn't want to be seen with me. Either way, it was very rude and even though the boat was posh and the sex was okay, I declined his future invitations.
DICKS WITH DICKS: I may be a cumslut but I am not a cum dumpster. What's the difference? A cumslut welcomes your load be it in her pussy, her mouth, or on her tits (on-the-face is an individual decision). She finds your cum sexy, arousing, and something to savor. A cum dumpster is used as a receptacle for disposing of the evidence of your inconvenient boner (and ego). And guess what: I make the distinction, not you.
Andy treated me like a dumpster. After a lifetime of obsessing over, yet being starved of dick, when I was finally admitted to the Kingdom of Cock, I went buck wild. The summer after losing my virginity, I wasn't too choosy about the cocks I sucked. While I'm often messing around with guys who normally wouldn't give me the time of day, it's also true that sometimes I hooked up with guys with whom the Discerning-me would never give a "pass". Andy was a tatted, 20-something walking representative of white privilege whose coolest attribute was his pristinely kept muscle car. He looked like the high school bully in every teen movie. Had I any tater tots stashed in my pockets, I'm sure he'd have demanded them.
He was a prick from the start after realizing I was pretty much BJ-on-call without expecting anything in return. He couldn't be bothered with much more than the barest of greetings before getting in my car and whipping it out. I'd still be wiping the corners of my mouth as he zipped up and took his leave.
Thing is, I didn't much care because I never liked him, didn't find him attractive, and couldn't care less if I ever saw him again. Any interest I had in Andy waned in proportion to my growing BJ list of eager guys who were cuter, nicer, and remembered their P's and Q's. I think he crossed the line the day he overcame my reluctance to meet up by offering me $10 gas money. I was flat broke (from most reluctantly enabling an alcoholic, drug addicted friend) and needed the money. However, after cumming, he beat a hasty exit, stiffing me of the promised gas money. Such a dick move. The next time he made this offer, I was ready. Even as I swallowed the last of his load, I had my finger on the door-lock button on my car. True to form, as soon as he zipped up, his hand was on the door handle. When the door wouldn't open, he looked at me stupidly.
"Forget something?" I asked sweetly and held out my hand. He scowled and took a $20 bill from his pocket.
"I only have a $20," he grumbled. I snatched it from his hand.
"That'll do," said I, and released the door lock. "Bye."
I wanted to laugh at the disgruntled expression on his face. Instead, I simply removed him from The List.
THE TAKEAWAY: Whether or not you believe that a slut is worthy of your basic respect, your lack of manners could cost you easy and convenient access to the Promised Land.
Coming Soon: Candy Corn Hookups, part 3...FUNKY LOCATIONS