Dry Spell Becomes a WET Spell!

Nearly a decade ago, I went through a divorce and started dating for the first time as an adult. When friends suggested I write about my experiences, I started a blog. I have been "revisiting" some of my former exploits lately, and decided to share, using my real name, for the first time.

This piece was first published in two posts from March, 2013. Edits have been made for clarity and continuity.

Oh my lordy, my little turtledoves! The “dry spell” of 12 days is over. And over. And over.

Unexpected. Unplanned. Unbelievably excellent.

After work I was bored. No internet or TV at home until Friday, so I spontaneously headed out to a local casino that’s about 20 minutes away from me. I was grubby. Hadn’t showered, flat hair, no makeup, jeans that bordered on “mom jeans”, a simple long-sleeve t-shirt, boots, glasses. I actually had the thought that I didn’t have to worry about getting hit on, I could just play and text.

And text. And text. A one point, I was texting three men at a time. One, my date for this coming Friday, is KC Krish – a guy I’m really enjoying being human with and chatting with. Great conversation, fun flirtation. Another is THOR – younger, pretty cute, thinks I’m awesome on paper & can’t wait to meet a fuck me. He’s a little pushy. Dick pics, calls me “mama” – ummmm…maybe not…? I don’ like the “when can I get at you” assumption. Plus, we were going to get together on Sunday, but I wasn’t sure when because my kids were in town. I told him I would contact him around 5 or 6pm – which I did – and he was busy. Okay, by all means, don’t wait around for an uncertain meet with me, but it was a lame blow-off. He was cleaning & his roommate was home so we couldn’t “have fun” – I was like “I’m not talking about fun – I’m talking about meeting for a drink.” He was sort of not listening. Anyway, he’s been texting but I’m getting a of weird vibe too. Maybe a girlfriend or ex or unfinished business? Something. Then hello there, in the midst of these two, Sporto, the guy who cancelled on me for Thursday, shows back up. “Hey girl. How you been?” We chatted for a bit and then he tells me that he’s sort of interested in someone else. Okay, did you hit me up just to tell me that, or are we still pals? No, we’re good. Okay. But not meeting up anytime soon I guess? Bummer. He is crazy hot & has a really big dick.

So, I was cheerfully texting away with KC Krish (whom I am currently texting with, incidentally,) after the others had bid me goodnight. It was approaching midnight or so, I was up a nice little bundle…and just texting goodnight to KC Krish when a guy took a seat two slots down from me and started chatting me up. Did I mention that I was unwashed and had no makeup on? He was stone cold sober, pretty cute, very polite, and selling it fairly hard. I let him buy me a drink.

Despite me being seriously grubby, he seemed to be enraptured and kept calling me beautiful. His pitch was so strangely desperate – like he was overwhelmed by me and couldn’t possibly let me go without convincing me to date him, fuck him or let him give me a massage – that I actually wondered at its legitimacy. I was half waiting for his friends to show up and laugh or something sinister like that. But we exchanged numbers as well as kisses, despite his rather odd “used car salesman” pitches and his slightly effeminate manner. If I had to label, I would say that this guy was a pure cougar fan. Turns out, he’s only 30.

Eventually, his buddies texted that they were leaving, and he left me. A few minutes later, he came back, saying that they weren’t leaving immediately, and that he just wanted to spend a few more moments with me. We’d more or less made a date for the following night, and it was quite late – around 2am. He left again and I got up, stretched, and moved to another machine at the casino. I was about ready to leave, but was on a winning streak and enjoying playing on their money. Then I got a text from him.

His friends and some girls were going to smoke out and drink at some lake that’s not too far from where I live. He wondered if I would like to come and hang out with him? Well, first, going to strange, secluded places with a bunch of men in the middle of the night is just an invitation for gang rape. Plus, it was late, it was pissing rain, and it was cold. Why would I go to a lake – even if I knew him, was looking cute, and was more awake? I politely declined, saying that I was looking forward to seeing him the next day. He persisted – could I meet him at Shari’s for pancakes? He said that he just wanted to spend more time with me. Well, that’s sweet and far less dangerous, but I’m not hungry and by that time it was nearing 3am. Plus, how would that work? The logistics were confusing since he and his pals all rode together. He explained that he had dropped his friends, returned home, and now had his own car. He persisted in asking if we can meet somewhere for coffee and just talk.

That’s when I decided “Fuck it.” He had turned me on, he’d promised a massage and it had been almost two weeks since I had sex. I told him to meet me at my place, and I started driving home. He started driving at the same time, so I only had about 10 minutes to set the scene, have a little whore bath, put my hair in a ponytail, brush my teeth & put on sexy underwear and a robe. He was at my door in no time. It was almost 4am. I let him in, and we kissed.

It took me awhile to realize that this guy is probably a bit of a sub. That could be what was up with the vibe I was picking up from him earlier. But I decided that since he had good hands, that I would enjoy the slow, languid, sexy massage that he offered. He was clear that he wanted to do it – he wanted to serve me and be my slave. We started making out and I led him to the bedroom that was bathed in dim light, and had a towel and massage oil close at hand – along with condoms, naturally.

He is sweet and almost gentlemanly. He asks my permission to untie my robe. I let him. He practically faints at the sight of me in the hot undies. He gasps, he pants, he tells me that I have a beautiful body. He asks if he can touch me. He asks if it’s okay, if it feels good. I say yes because it does. We kiss more, I let him rub me, he asks if he can touch my breasts. Oh god, you had better! But don’t hurt my pretty bra! He’s rubbing, kissing, sucking, licking, blowing (he’s got some lick then blow cold air on thing that he does – doesn’t really do it for me, but I get what you’re trying.) He tells me to lie down. I’m in just my boy-short panties. He gasps at my ass and asks if he can touch it. He gets out the oil and rubs me in a very sensual massage. Before turning attention to my ass and other areas, he decides that my feet are cute and that he needs to rub my toes. He asks if that’s okay. Yes. Oh, wow – he’s going to suck them too. That’s only the second time that’s ever happened in my life. My brain thinks that the whole toe-sucking practice is gross, but my twat thinks it’s really fucking hot and responds with a rushing river of wet.

Speaking of my pink parts, he finally got there – again, after asking permission – and when I was on display for him, breathlessly offered: “my God, that’s so beautiful.” You have to love such adoration and appreciation! All this was such a delight, but what he did with his tongue, hands & fingers was nothing short of amazing. I’ve had a few men who loved to eat pussy and get all up in there, but this guy took the cake. I think I still have bruises on my pelvis from his face crushing into my lady business. Eventually, after I had come a fair number of times, we finally relieved him of his pants, and I found that he was endowed like a soup can. Oh yeah, I can work with that. Seriously, the girth was about that of a can of Campbell’s chunky style and the length possibly a bit more. Oh lucky, lucky me. Incidentally, this is how he earned the nickname Soup Can Man.

As part of the "sales pitch" that my new friend had offered earlier – he asked me “how long I could go” mentioning that he was a marathoner and could go back-to-back multiple times. Given that we started at 4am and he still had to go pick up his friends after their party, I didn’t expect a full demonstration, particularly because he mentioned that he probably only had an hour or so. He had also warned that it had been a while for him, so the first time would probably be quick but the second would be better. I fully expected him to “get a text” after the first quickie and run, but after all the fine, fine attention I had already received I wasn’t about to complain.

As it turned out, the first time was fantastic. The only problem was that he was slamming into me so violently that he would occasionally pop out because of his somewhat short length. I think we tried every possible position. After he came, he was right back at me – keeping me warmed up for the next round that happened pretty quickly – especially after I gave him what he later referred to as “the best blowjob I’ve ever had in my life.” I also demonstrated my trick of applying a condom with my mouth. He was both shocked and curious. I explained that it’s a great way to keep a guy from losing wood while putting the condom on. So impressed was he that he asked me to do it again when we went in for round three. By that time both of us were flagging as it was after 6:30am and we had just had a mini marathon of sex for almost three hours.

I’ve had a few texts from Soup Can Man since – one with a dick pic – and there was some talk about getting together today. I haven’t heard from him yet, but maybe I ought to take a nap just in case!