Wolverines are shy and fierce as fuck. Muscular. Solitary. Flesh-eating carnivores. I wanted this Wolverine to eat me up the second he sent me a pic of his back.
Wolverine is tall, 6’2″, ripped as shit, pale with a goofy grin, a motorcycle, a weird ass stuffed animal collection and a day job as a computer nerd at the local university.
I melted into the phone when I saw his back. So fucking tight. Muscles popping. A woman needs at least one of those type of men in her life. Well I do, at least. Just flesh-eating carnivore.
But the detail that got my panties soaked was his tattoo. A series of abstract black lines and shapes folding over this right shoulder, draping down his upper back. I wanted him to lift me up off the ground, put my pussy right into his face and hold me up with those big biceps while he eats it.
Owing to his shyness, we talked pleasantries for way too many days before we made a date. He decided to ride his motorcycle out to meet me at a local restaurant in my town.
High table. Low light. Wine and small bites. I drove the conversation. He drove me crazy after he took off his plated leather motorcycle jacket. His baggy long sleeve left too much to my imagination. I wanted to see muscley bumps and hard curves bulging out.
But that innocent smile, short black hair I longed to grab a fist full of, and flirty shyness kept my attention. I am definitely hanging on to get him behind closed doors to see how fierce this Wolverine could become.
We walked around downtown a bit before we came to his motorcycle. Such a G-rated, pleasant date. I knew I had to make the first move.
After he zipped up his jacket, and with helmet in hand, I moved in. Put my left hand on his chest, leaned up and in, and put his bottom lip between mine. Wet, soft, full. I slowly pulled my lips away, and then got what I wanted. He grabbed my back with his empty hand, flat hand pressed me hard into him. He drove his tongue into my mouth, and our lips moved frantically together. There’s that fucking fierceness!
I felt his cock get hard, pressing into my upper thigh, and my panties get wet. I am definitely going to get him to fuck me on his motorcycle one day. But for tonight, I was just left with a nice make-out sess, wet panties and blue balls.
A whole year went by in a flash, and before I knew it it was December and I was on a plane back to New Jersey. Diamonds and I had been texting all year long – part friends, part lovers.
There was a piece of me that craved Diamonds. During the year, when we were apart, we talked, but I knew I couldn’t see him so I put my cravings on the shelf. But when it was possible, my cravings were insatiable like a yearning that doesn’t cease – just consumes your mind and body. Can’t think of anything else but getting to that person, even if it’s just to sit and talk, to steal a kiss, to look them in the eye.
The night before my sister’s annual New Year’s Day bash, I went to dinner with her and her family. Texting Diamonds all night trying to figure out how to see each other. I had only been on ground in New Jersey for 24 hours, but couldn’t wait even 12 more hours until the party to see him.
Toward the end of dinner, I made my excuses about going to get a drink with an old high school friend, same sorry story as last year.
“Ok, I’m in the car. I’m sure they are talking up a storm now…haha!”
I waited in the parking lot of a shopping center. He pulled up next to me and I jumped in with him. Lock eyes and I instantaneously melted with the widest grin on my face.
The first kiss in a year sent shock waves through my pussy like someone hooked electricity to those lips.
We couldn’t stop talking, catching up, touching, smiling.
He drove to a restaurant a few towns over. It was about 10PM and the bar was packed. We squeezed in at two bar stools, so close my knee was in his upper thigh, which made it easy for him to rub my leg. Chills through my body. I felt like silly putty barely holding myself from liquifying and becoming a puddle under the bar stool. I hadn’t been this close to him for a year. The attraction was overwhelming.
We had a few Moscow Mules. I had a hard time concentrating on the words coming from his mouth. I just saw those big, dark lips moving wishing they were on my pussy. And I was getting lost in his eyes – just staring. I felt like a crazed teenager. Ragging hormones. Can’t stop thinking about sex.
It was getting late, so we went back to the car so he could drive me back to mine. But we couldn’t move. We just sat there, first talking, then quickly couldn’t keep our hands off each other.
He slid his hand down my jeans. No panties as usual. Cupped my pussy then parted the lips with his fingers. Ran his index finger up and down as I got wetter. Pushed inside with his first two fingers. I slid down in the seat so he could get further in. He pulled his fingers out and put them straight in his mouth.
“Oh my god, you taste like a peach.”
My mind was blinded by sex, so turned on I was ready to fuck him in the car in the parking lot as stragglers from the restaurant came out to leave for the evening. Didn’t care, just wanted his cock in me as fast as possible. Right fucking now.
I looked up and there was no one around. I reached over to feel his cock over his pants. Hard as steel. I rubbed for a moment then unzipped and wrapped my mouth around his hard black dick. He released a piercing moan.
“Oh god, oh god….stop stop stop.”
I sat up. A waitress from the restaurant came out to the parking lot with something in her hand. She looked like she was walking toward us. She came to my side of the car and he put the window down.
“Is this your scarf?”
“No, but thanks for checking. Have a good night.”
“Ok, you too!”
Oh, fuck that was fun almost getting caught! I’m sure she thought she saw something.
“Why didn’t we just get a hotel room?”
“I thought we could have a few drinks and catch up. I didn’t think we wouldn’t be able to control ourselves! God, we are sex-crazed teenagers!”
“Indeed, let’s go find an empty parking lot!”
My wide grin displayed my agreement.
We drove around and eventually found a deserted shopping center that was dimly lit. We couldn’t see any cameras. He pulled closer to the back of one of the buildings where there was no light.
We just jumped right back in. He put his driver’s seat all the way back, pulled his jeans down to his mid-thigh, and I put my mouth right back on his cock. Moaning. Getting warm. Getting wet. I felt like an uncontrollable animal.
I took him close to the top. He stopped, moved over momentarily to the passenger seat. I slid into his place and maneuvered my boots and skinny jeans off.
He immediately got on me. My left foot pressed up against the top of the ceiling and the inside of the driver’s door. Steering wheel in his back. He dove fucking deep inside me.
Sliding in and out of a river of my wet pussy. Thrusting up and hard. Fast like animals fucking in the wild.
Breasts heaving into his face. Arms wrapped around him. Panting, moaning, rhythmically moving together even with no room to move.
He exploded inside me. Collapsed on my chest. I wasn’t done. I told him to move off.
I pressed my left leg against the driver’s side window, and gave him my right leg to hold in the passenger’s seat.
My clit was swollen. So wet my fingers were sliding off it. I dried it a bit with the side of my hand. I was so fucking horny I needed to cum so hard, so bad.
I held my lips open wide and rubbed my clit fast and frenetically. Him rubbing the inside of my thigh. Eyes closed. Picturing cock hammering a wet pussy. A long, hard, veiny shaft disappearing over and over again. Hard, fast slapping against an ample, round ass.
I arched my back and came. Screaming, yelling, cursing.
I fell back completely limp, laughing.
“That was fucking amazing to watch!”
“It was fucking amazing to do!”
We cleaned up a bit, got dressed and drove back to my parked car.
“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow at the party. I’m gonna have a big grin on face thinking about tonight. Our little sexy secret.”
I opened the side door as slowly as possible. Took my worn cowboy boots off just inside and carried them to the second bedroom. Small creaking on the steps caused me to pause and listen, but all I heard was his white noise app – not even a snore. I was Friday at 1:30AM, and I had been out all night carrying on up valley with the girls.
I pulled my grey sweater dress over my head and unhooked my black lace bra. Slid my hands inside my black hipster panties and pushed them down to the floor. Left my socks on and snuck back down to the living room. Curled up in a blanket and passed out.
I woke up in the middle of the night remembering the plumber was coming at 10AM. Set my alarm for 9:30AM and passed the fuck back out.
Nerdie woke me before the light of day, gave me a kiss before he left for work.
“Woah! You smell boozy, woman! But I love you…see you tonight. Have a good day.”
It seemed like the next moment was me being jolted awake by the alarm.
I unplug my phone, get up and make my way to the bathroom. Fucking freezing my ass off, literally, as I walk naked across the living room.
My eyes pop open and turn to the back slider. Shit, are the guys outside working on that house next door?? If so, they are getting a free show right now! Fuck it – my head hit a brick wall or is a brick wall. Whatever the fuck, I’m in fucking pain.
I get myself together. Get a shower. Pop two antacids and a kombucha from the fridge. Get coffee going and sit down at my desk.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Shit. Didn’t finish getting dressed yet. Just short pj shorts, hoodie, socks and flip flops. No bra. No panties. Hair still wet.
I open the door and I’m surprised to see a young kid. No uniform. Wearing a worn-in black Cal sweatshirt, dark blue work pants and boots.
“Hi! I’m the plumber.”
He’s tall, about my height, slender. Can’t really tell his build through that sweatshirt. Dark, oval eyes that point upward at the edges.
He starts talking about my hot water heater, but all I hear is…
“Pilot light. Ignitor. Dirty inside.”
I’m not looking at his eyes because these fucking sexy words about my fucking hot water heater keep coming from those big ass lips of his.
OMG – I want to jump on that bottom lip! It’s as full as my pussy lips. And he’s talking. And I’m staring at his bottom lip wishing it was wrapped around my nipple. Both hands underneath my tits. Pushing them together. Switching back and forth. Juicy lips all over.
Fuck. Ok. Yes, the hot water heater is dirty inside potentially causing the pilot light to switch off. Call the manufacturer. Blah. Blah.
As I hear blah, blah, blah. My mind wonders bringing my eyes down to his pants.
His zipper is down about an inch. I want to walk over and slide my hand in the opening and feel on his dark lead. I put my hand in, over his soft cotton briefs, and my stroke down is long and slow. His cock is so fucking long. Hard as lead by the time I get to the end.
I don’t even look up before I fall to my knees on the kitchen floor, unzip his pants and hastily pull his pants down. I grab his cock and thrust it into my mouth. An explosive moan comes barreling out of his mouth.
I wonder if the guys working outside on the house next door can see anything. Or heard him scream out.
He grabs on to the wall to steady himself. Pants at his ankles over his boots. I grab onto his thick, dark thighs. They are fucking muscular for such a slim guy.
I ran my left hand up to his abs. Tight as fuck.
I move that hand around to his ass, and push his cock deeper into my throat.
“Oh my god…stop.”
He bends down and pushes my shoulders off him. Shit, he’s going to get fired over this. My brain has only a split second to feel bad for him.
Before I have another thought, he grabs me by the waist and picks me up with ease, putting me down on the peninsula table on the other side of the kitchen. He takes both hands and pulls off my shorts in one motion. Grabs my ass and pulls it to the end of the table. Takes his cock in his right hand. Pushes in between my legs and buries that fucking dark lead in me.
I immediately give over and lie down on the table top. My shoulders, head and ass rocking back and forth as he plunges in and out. His grip is tight on my hips.
My legs are against his shoulders. It doesn’t take long for his cock to explode.
He pulls out and the cum drips from my pussy on to the floor. I just lie there, completely relaxed, while he begins to pull himself together.
I regret I didn’t get to feel those lips on my pussy, on my tits.
I sit up and we both display wide grins and laugh. Without another word, he bends down and takes my right breast in his mouth. Those fucking big, juicy lips wrapped around. The tip of his tongue teases the end of my hard pink nipple.
I jolt up on the couch. WTF?!? It’s light out. My alarm is buzzing. I look at my phone. It’s 9:30AM.
“I love the idea of having sex at work. I’ve never done that before.”
“I’d be happy to devirginize you ;)”
“I was hoping you would. I’m so horny just thinking about it.”
“I was walking downtown yesterday and saw some long skirts for sale…bought one, wearing it today with a tank top.”
“Jesus…that’s exactly how I’ve pictured you so many times…”
Another series of months pass with some intermittent checking in and sexting. Finally, we arrange a date.
“Happy Thursday! I can’t wait to “host you for a tasting.”
I’ll do my best to do the wines justice and keep my hands off of you, but once you sit on the edge of the table in front of me and open your legs, then all bets will be off.”
“Shit, my co-worker won’t leave at the moment…she’s working on a project, and doesn’t seem like she’s leaving soon…ahhh!
Can I buy you a glass of wine? Maybe we could come back to the winery in an hour or so.”
We met at a tightly packed bar a few miles from his winery. When I sat to his right, I pulled up my long, black skirt to my knee and pushed my calf into his thigh.
We tried to talk about every day things, but it was obvious both of our minds were racing with anticipation. He took long, hard glances at me mid-sentence and just smiled. I could read the naughty thoughts on the back of his blue eyes.
After one drink, he called the winery to see if anyone would pick up. It went to voicemail.
He settled up, and we walked out to our cars.
“See you in a second.”
The three minute drive seemed like three days. I wanted to drive over every car in my path. Run every light. I felt my pussy lips pulsate. My panties clinging to their wetness.
I turned into the winery driveway. He buzzed me through the gate. I parked, walked past the stone fountain and opened the heavy glass door. He was there at a long table with that wide grin.
We made small talk about forgettable things.
He said he was going to set up in the barrel room. I went to the bathroom. My lips were slippery. I poofed up my hair, rubbed my hands, neck and inner thighs with vanilla-scented lotion and stepped outside.
He invited me into the barrel room. Through the large doors was a long heavy, wood table. Laid out were several red wine bottles and two glasses. He sat at the head of the table, and me to his right.
He talked about the wines. We drank.
I could suffer his mid-western politeness no longer. In the middle of his sentence, I stood up, moved the glasses and bottles to the side and pushed his right arm back from the table. He fell silent immediately.
I sat on the edge of the table in front of him with my long skirt draped over my knees. I bent down and put my hands on either side of face. Pulled him toward me and swallowed his face with my lips. He slid his arms over my skirt, up my legs and grabbed my ass with both hands.
I reached down and ran my open hand over his pants, over his rock-hard cock.
He pushed me back on the table, and as a lay down, he pulled my ass to the edge.
He ran his hands up my calves under my skirt, over my thighs, and with his right hand rubbed my pussy over my panties. I was so fucking horny, my back arched immediately with anticipation of his fingers…his cock…anything inside me.
He ran his finger down the side of my panties where they met my inner thigh. Up and down teasing the fuck out of me.
He pushed my skirt up to my waist, and then his finger under my panties. His finger slipped up and down between my lips. He pushed two fingers inside repeatedly. His movement quickened and his bent fingers pounded against the outside of my pussy.
He grabbed my ankles and put my feet up on the edge of the table.
He pushed my panties aside and jammed his tongue inside my pussy. Licking up and down, and inside. He pressed in to my clit with the tip of his tongue and made circles on it. My clit was swollen and each touch drove me crazy.
As he ate all of my juicy pussy, I could feel it combine with his saliva and slowly move down between my ass cheeks.
Without realizing it, I was moving away from him, flailing and wriggling around in pleasure.
He again grabbed my ass and pulled me to the edge of the table. In a fury, he got his pants down and thrust himself into me. Holding me on to him with his hands wrapped tightly around my hips and ass.
My back rubbing against the table. My hands on my tits. We were both screaming out.
He stopped and without a word pulled me up. My skirt fell back down.
He took my hand and moved me over toward a large wine barrel laid on its side.
He turned me around so my back was facing him. He pressed his chest to me, kissed my neck, and bent down to pull up my skirt.
He gently pressed my back to signal me to bend over the barrel. He pushed my skirt up over my waist, and pressed his face into my ass over my panties. Licked the outside of my pussy, and then slid my panties off.
I held on to the barrel with both hands when he plunged his rock into me again.
The barrel was cold, but his cock was warm and slipped easily in and out of me.
He grabbed on to my hips harder and harder. His thrusts faster and faster.
He dug his nails into my skin and with one last thrust came hard. Screaming.
He pulled out, and we gathered ourselves back together. I left for the evening just after dusk satisfied with my fun adventure even without my own orgasm. I was pleased to fulfill a few fantasies for him, and leave it at that.
Last year, I went through a brief cougar phase. Fuck, why not? Let’s see what these Millennials can do in the boudoir.
5’10”, a nice, white Minneapolis boy with a wide grin on a wide face, curly hair and beard. Works in the tasting room at a small winery. Just like for Prince, this Darling Nicky was gone after one funky time.
Met on Tinder then at a local bar. Cocktails, convo. Cute, genuine, loved that wide smile.
Walked him to his truck before I walked myself home.
“Thanks for meeting up, you’re an amazing kisser ;)”
“Lol, thanks! I enjoyed grabbing your hair and beard…”
“That was the best make out I’ve had in years. I liked you grabbing a handful of my cock.”
“You have a nice cock, thanks for inviting me to stroke it.”
“Consider it an open invitation.”
A month passes. He writes me to apologize that his life is all drama. (Eye roll emoji)
I casually extend an invitation to hang out again, but care little about the actual outcome.
I’m just not impressed with the Millennials. They have all that 20-something ooey, gooey growing up life mess all over them. Of course, I had it too when I was their age. The sky is falling at every turn. I think I’m an empathetic person, but for this I just don’t have the patience.
“I definitely had fun last time. I’ve thought about it a lot…”
” Really?? I’m glad I made such a good impression.”
“You certainly did! Sexy, charming, great conversation, great kisser…how could that not leave the best impression?”
FUCK! I am so simple I cannot resist the praise.
“Ha! Thanks, you’re a cutie! Well let me know when.”
“Maybe middle of next week? Honestly what I really want is to taste your pussy.”
“Perhaps a drink first?!?”
A month passes.
“Want to grab a drink tonight?”
A month passes.
“Hey! Sorry it’s so late. Would you want to grab a drink Wednesday or Thursday night?”
“Thinking about me in the middle of the night??”
“I might have been recounting our make out session.”
“I like the idea of you fantasizing about me.”
“Just so you know, since we met I’ve fantasized about you a lot.”
“Do you make up more to the story??”
“I do, I’ve thought of a couple different stories about you.”
“That’s exciting. Anything you’d care to share?”
“I’ve fantasized about that night going a little further. About you not just stroking me, but also taking me in your mouth, right there in the parking lot. And after that, you tell me how wet you are and how your house is just down the road…
And I come over so I can repay the favor and taste you.
After that night, you come and see me at work for a tasting, but it’s late on a Saturday and I’m the last one there. You’re wearing a tank top and long skirt. We’re tasting wine at the long wood table in the tasing room and then without warning you sit on the edge of the table in front of me and open your legs…”
“That’s pretty hot! And very doable if you want to make it reality.”
“I just felt a pulse surge through my cock. Damn, you are so sexy. I’m literally rock hard just thinking of you. I get this way every time I think about making out with you. I just wish I had had more time to feel your amazing pussy. I want to use my fingers to make you cum…
I’m glad you think coming in for a tasting at my winery and then having me taste you sounds hot. I’ve thought about it a lot as I’ve been cleaning up at the end of the day.
Two straight guys I was seeing in town individually both expressed an interest in MFM. Well, let’s get this group together for a drink and see what happens, shall we?
Pro was an ex-pro golfer, 5’9″, Irish, early 50s, divorced, no kids, pot head tasting room associate, creative builder, silly, family money, large long cock, voracious consumer of online porn which I also came to enjoy.
Addict was 5’10”, a hidden-away, recovering drug addict from a very prominent family in town, mid-40s, divorced with two teenage girls, loved to cook, we’d make dinner, smoke, drink, fuck and watch movies in his apartment.
We’d arranged for the three of us to meet up at a local wine bar, and if agreeable by all, we’d go back to the Pro’s house just a few minutes drive away.
The Pro texted me about an hour before we were scheduled to meet.
“Mirror selfie for me to wet my appetite.”
I laid on my stomach on the bed and pulled up my dress to reveal my sheer black boy short panties. They hugged my round ass cheeks like second skin, and exposed some of the strawberries tattooed on my hip. I bent my knees, crossed my legs to show my black cowboy boots and white knee-high socks, and snapped a pic from my left shoulder looking straight down my back. The angle accentuated the arch of my lower back which gave way to my tight, round ass.
When I walked in to the wine bar, the two of them were already sitting across from each other at a high table with drinks in hand. I wasn’t sure who to sit next to. I gave the Pro a hug, then the Addict, and then sat down next to the latter.
The Pro was eager to go back to his place. He was a Pro in more way than one, and had had threesomes and foursomes before. The Addict and I were the newbies.
The Addict ordered some cheese and charcuterie. In my nervousness, I drank my bubbles rather quickly, and ordered another.
I have absolutely no idea what we talked about.
I got halfway through my second glass, and the Pro suggested we go. I downed the last bit, and the Addict and I jumped in the Pro’s truck to head back to his house.
He had a small, two-story house where the second floor was one big bedroom. We walked in to a dimly lit living room then he led us immediately up the stairs. There were candles lit all over the bedroom, and porn on the TV positioned across from the bed. A white woman was sucking on a big, black cock.
The Pro opened a bottle of Charbono for me and the Addict. We made small talk while we undressed. I could feel myself getting wet catching glimpses and hearing the groaning from the TV.
I was leaning over to take off my boots and socks when the Pro came up behind me and ran his hand over my panties down from my ass and around to my pussy. He rubbed back and forth for a moment.
“So fucking warm,” he uttered.
I stood up as he came around to my front side. He pulled my strapless dress to the floor. The Addict walked up behind me, unhooked my bra and pulled my panties down around my ankles. He immediately planted his hands on my hips, and buried his face in between my ass cheeks. The Pro slid his hands under my jaw and grabbed my head from behind. He pressed his lips hard against mine, and gave me a mouthful of tongue.
My brain was trying to keep up with all the sensations I was feeling. So many hands and lips on me at once was driving me crazy, and made me weak. I felt like I needed to lay down to take it all in.
The Pro must have felt me weaken, stopped, and ordered me to lie on the bed on my stomach. Then he walked up to the edge and thrust his hard cock into my mouth. The Addict climbed on the bed straddling my calves and started running his hands over my ass and thighs.
I arched my back, and the Addict ran his fingers along my ass and started playing with my lips. His fingers pushed them apart and I could feel how wet I was.
I could only take in a small amount of the Pro’s long, thick cock. I took my mouth off of it and put it in my hand while I stroked and leaned down to lick his balls. The Addict thrust two fingers in my pussy and I lunged forward, my mouth pressed hard up against the Pro’s balls.
They both stopped and the Addict turned me around so I could take him in.
The moaning coming from the TV and the heavy breathing from both of them made my widely horny. My pussy lips were tingling and pulsating. I couldn’t wait for one of them to fuck me.
The Pro slipped on a condom and I was on all fours when he moved in between my thighs, grabbed my hips and plunged inside of me. I jerked forward and immediately swallowed all of the Addict’s cock in. It bent to the right so I used my hand at the base to keep it in my mouth while I rocked up and back from the Pro.
I glimpsed the porn behind the Addict, then closed my eyes so I could concentrate on all the noises and sensations. I was over-stimulated. My mouth full of cock. Trying unsuccessfully to moan from the feeling of the Pro inside me.
Selfishly, the Pro pulled out, took me off the Addict’s cock, flipped me over and pulled me by the ankles to the edge of the bed. He knelt on the floor, and started licking my clit. I got excited knowing from previous sessions that he was good at giving me head.
The Addict climbed on the bed and put his cock in my mouth.
Soft, fast circles directly on my clit with a soft tongue. My muffled moans got louder. He finished me off. As I started cumming, my back arched high and the Addict’s cock fell out of my mouth. I screamed.
“Oh my god! Oh my fucking god!”
He came up, and thrust his cock back in me hard. I dripped on to the floor.
He came fast.
While the Pro was fucking me, the Addict was watching, waiting and prepared himself by putting on a condom.
As soon as the Pro finished, the Addict grabbed my hips and pushed me up the bed. He pushed my legs apart and slipped in very easily. The Pro sat in a chair in the corner and watched. I put my legs up and squeezed my ankles around the Addict’s neck while he grabbed my thighs as leverage to get all of his cock inside of me.
I watched the porn behind him. The white woman was standing in a kitchen. She put her left leg on the counter exposing her ass hole and pussy. He came up behind her and entered her. I was moving on the bed in rhythm with her pushing up against the kitchen counter.
The Addict exploded. I was spent, satisfied.
The Addict called an Uber and left. I climbed under the covers with the Pro and passed out.
During our time dating, Nerdie and I have been also been looking for couples and unicorn women to see and “play” with together. The Burning Couple was the first couple we matched with on Tinder.
The Burning Couple because they enjoy the occasional party drug, clubbing and well, Burning Man. Living together for the past two years in SF. Let’s call her Jess: 35, 5’7″ white, medium length thin straight blond hair, blue eyes, cutie, small boobs, just a lil out of shape with thick legs and small belly, never married, no kids. He, Dan, 46, 5’9″ Indian descent, full head of black hair gelled back, pretty big mid-drift, the accent of a SoCal surfer dude, divorced with three kids.
She and I matched, had pleasant intro conversation, and shortly after made plans for the four of us to meet at a bar in the city. Our first date was perfectly lovely. We talked as a group, and broke off at various times to speak individually.
We made second date plans.
As a first order of business from his recent divorce, Dan bought himself the pontoon boat the ex would never let him have. It was parked at the West Sacramento Marina.
We stocked up on snacks and booze, put on our bathing suits and headed out for a day on the water.
Jess met us at the end of the dock wearing shorts and a tank top over her bathing suit. My eyes were drawn to her legs as she led us to the boat.
NOOOOOO, the dreaded cankles! My penis deflated. My face scrunched in pain.
Ok, ok, get yourself together. Looks are always secondary to personality and chemistry in my book. Stop being so mean – judgey bitch. Keep going solider.
Besides being Dan’s second time taking the boat out and literally running into boats on his way out of the marina, we had a grand ‘ole drunken boating time. Music, swimming, sunning, chatting, river peeing. It became quite clear to both me and Nerdie, they were much more about us whereas we were still in the examine-n-baby steps mode.
We got the boat back into the marina without much fanfare despite being way more drunk. After safely parking, I took Jess out for a test drive and made out with her a bit while the boys watched. Good enough kisser, and it was fun to feel like the man since I had to bend down so far to get my smacker on hers. Note to self about liking feeling manly.
Ok, some recovery there.
We planned a third date. Six Flags.
Meanwhile, there were a lot of group texts and a lot of texts from her to me asking about our every feeling, thought and desire past, present and future. A little much, but I appreciated the openness. Better to over-communicate when you are trying to get a four-some together. Plus there was some interesting sex reports.
“He fucked me 3x this morning, and I’ve never been so tired in my life. We broke personal orgasm goals with more of the night to go!!!”
“So you came 3xs today??”
“Had 4 sessions, 3 in the morning with 15 orgasms and just now 5 more. He had 4 in total.”
Jess then sends a dark pic of them having sex. He’s taken it looking down himself while she’s on top, folded over him, sweaty belly rolls…yes sweaty…thighs squished. Faintest site of his penis in her following his round, dark haired belly.
It looks like the Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man is mounting the end of a half-lit NYC streetlight pole.
They aren’t unattractive people, but come on – know your audience! Bad angle, bad lighting, bad position. Bad sexting, bad!
Six Flags day arrives. Perfectly fine, lovely time riding rides, eating, drinking, chatting. So much amusement wiped us out so we peeled off in the late afternoon.
Then I moved, it was summer, he’d got kids – weeks go by.
Nerdie and I talk. It’s luke-warm from us at best, but he lets me take the lead. I’m trying because they are nice, easy-going, and newbies too, but I’m also trying. So I try.
“Nerdie and I were talking more and wanted to ask you guys about getting together for some fun times – start out by just having play time with our respective partners in the same room. Kind of like live action porn…would you be interested in that?”
“Sweet! Dan and I would be interested.”
“Cool – we think it would be fun! However scheduling might be an issue for the next few weeks…”
“No worries! The next two weeks may be tough for us too. Let me sync with Dan tomorrow on schedules.”
“I thought you guys lived together??”
“We do, but he splits his time in Sac with his kids.”
“Aww, all alone in the big city??”
“Haha, for a bit, expecting Dan around midnight.”
Hmm, my devil horns become erect. I always enjoy a lively sexting session, but never have I with a girl before…shall we?
“I just thought you might like to sext a bit…I’ve never done that with a girl before…”
My first shot was me with folded legs under my ass pushing that nice round booty out. It was more than two hands could hold. Wearing a white lacy thong running from my ass up the small of back. Curving high around my hip, hugging it tight, disappearing as the lace bent back down in the front toward my pussy. Beautiful colorful garden of tattoos displayed below, above and under the lace. Strawberries, butterflies. Shadows capturing the arch in my lower back.
She returned. Stretched out naked on the bed. Took the picture above and to her right with no face visible. Just a straight shot down her body. Large, suckable, perky brown nipples, round belly and right leg folded to cleverly cover her pussy.
“Your dark nipples are fantastic!!”
“I love your tan lines, so hot!!”
“I think you know mine are pink.”
Front on pic of my bare left breast prominently pouring out of a grey tank top. Large, round, stiff nipple accentuates a small breast begging to be cupped and sucked.
“Yum. Of course they are hot, especially with your beautiful artwork…very sensual!!”
“I’m sexting with Nerdie with now too. He just sent me a pic of his hard cock, and told me how he loves when my pussy grabs his cock when I cum. Ok your turn for the next pic…”
And then…in a millisecond that followed growing excitement…building pleasure…the first reach down my pajama pants…
I was scared straight.
“What would you do with this in front of you?”
I was frozen. Staring. Blank face. Completely immobilized.
Run far, far away – that’s what I’d do!
It was literally the ugliest pussy I had ever seen, could be seen, was ever seen??
I texted Nerdie for advice. I was simultaneously laughing and stunned, and had no idea how to react to this terrible site. Ehhhh….??
“I love it bald!”
That’s all I could come up with quickly. How could I tell her I’d eat it? Finger it? Fuck it? Ask Nerdie to fuck it? Finger it? Eat it? I’m a terrible, terrible person. The worst.
“You didn’t answer the question.”
OMG! How can I exit this convo ASAP?!?
We had a few more exchanges so her pussy wasn’t on my phone screen anymore. I didn’t have to view it while texting her back. I tried to be nice, however, luke-warm and playing along until I found my escape hatch.
“Lick that clit gently at the top, soft swirling.”
“Would you like any whipped cream or honey?”
“Mmmm, honey would make it that much sweeter…”
“And then? Ha, don’t tell me you’re done, haha!”
I just trailed off into the night…never to return…
No, not really. We exchanged texts for a few more weeks, and then eventually I just said Nerdie and I weren’t feeling it.
Scared straight. That’s how you get scared straight.
It was a beautiful summer afternoon in Napa. I was enjoying a beer with Nerdie at an outdoor table on Main Street. We were cracking jokes, laughing and flirting.
We starting talking about his roommate who has the uncanny ability to get girls, and get them into bed fast.
I witnessed this firsthand, repeatedly. One Friday night, Nerdie and I were sitting on his couch watching Hulu getting high using our individually preferred methods, when we heard a knock at the door.
Roomie, let’s give him a name…Slayer, comes down the hall, to the front door, opens, greets her, and starts walking back with her to his bedroom. He introduces us, we barely turn to say hi, and everyone carries on with their business.
On one such occasion that exact greeting scenario was happening, only this time we say our half-hearted hello, and she responds,
“I’ve been here before.”
Oh shit! Slayer brings home so many girls that Nerdie didn’t even recognize her…hilarious!
Now I’m skeptical about his prowess. Slayer is about 6′, 28 years old, messy as fuck with a dog and a cat, decent job, slim but not fit, 420, pointy nose, blond hair, plays D&D, endearing dorky laugh, loves black girls.
Ok, he has some charm to him, but WTF?!? How in the fuck does he get first dates to not only come to his apartment, but right to his bedroom? What the hell does he say on POF (his preferred dating app)?
I wanted to investigate.
So laughing and pondering over this conundrum on that sunny afternoon at that Main Street bar, Nerdie and I come up with a masterful, pause…fucking masterful plan.
CATFISH SLAYER ON POF!
We go back to my place and put Nerdie in my white skinny jeans. Baby’s “back” does rival mine…mmm hmmm!
He sticks it out to the left. I snap a pic. And we are off!
But wait…what should our profile name be? Well, something to attract Slayer of course. Nerdie slam dunk!
Next decision point…headline.
Hot Coffey looking for some creamer
Nerdie crushes the 3-pointer!
She is 23, black, from Santa Rosa, 6′, smokes occasionally, has an athletic body type, is non-religious, and is seeking a man for dating. Her profession is ‘bud tender.’ She has a Bachelors degree, doesn’t do “drugs,” has a car, no kids, makes $50-75k, does not want to date someone with kids, is ambitious and has no pets. She wants to date but nothing serious, and her longest relationship was under a year.
Smoking weed and hanging with my friends. I work hard and play even harder.
The politics and social climate we find ourselves in today.
The internet just officially broke – our inbox quickly fills to 99+ messages!
While we try to find Slayer’s profile, let’s have a little fun, shall we?
I can be your creamer. Promise you won’t be disappointed with my attributes.
I got creamer and weed.
You ever find that creamer? Let’s smoke!
Wassup wit u?
I ain’t creamer, but can I be the hot fudge to your sundae?
On the floor. Tears rolling down our faces. Stomach pains. Faces hurt.
Our only profile pic is Nerdie’s ass so quickly we start getting requests for face pics – fuck!
We both start trolling for black girl face shots on the internet. Not too slutty. Not too pro. Wholesome, but with a look in her eye.
Found it! She’s in the car, light-skinned, black long-sleeved sweater with U-shaped collar. Cute, short, straight hair. Tasteful, if not just a little big, diamond earrings. Simple make-up. Clear, beautiful skin. She’s grinning politely, no teeth. Has her left hand tucking her hair behind her ear.
The internet births an A-bomb. 99+ becomes 99+ no matter how many we view.
So we both start responding for shits and giggles while we hunt for the Slayer.
Mmmm, I like sweets.
I’m still looking for my creamer, is it you?
Tell me about those attributes…
Hot fudge where?
This goes on for weeks. The app is on Nerdie’s phone so anytime we are together, I grab it and start searching, and sending stupid ass messages back to these stupid ass 20-somethings. God I’m glad I’m not my nieces! Fuck that noise as Nerdie would say.
Then one day I’m searching away and just like that, I hit the lotto…Slayer’s profile. Insert image of heavens opening with angels singing.
His profile pic is with his dog…ok, cute.
But the words…OMG the words. Long, rambling, bad grammar, misspelling, lots of words that together say nothing notable. Hanging with friends. The outdoors. 420.
And my dick goes soft. What? That’s it? I thought we were going to get the secret sauce recipe. Now I’m even more confused then when this all started.
But fuck, was that fun…and still is! I downloaded the app for my phone, signed in with Nerdie’s account, and when I’m bored some nights I go on and fuck around some more with the 99+ messages that are always there.
And that’s how my BFs ass broke the internet. I bet you saw this video coming from a zillion miles away…
I was in a rebound relationship with a very nice guy, who I haven’t introduced but should. Let’s call him Mechanic. I’ll tell his story another time.
That summer I was still so depressed after having broken up with PhD the previous fall. I drank. I smoked. I didn’t eat. I cried until I got headaches. I cried myself to sleep. I maintained a false normal state during the day. And I tried to have a relationship with Mechanic.
But I was tired. Tired of feeling stuck in a cycle of pain. My brain hurt so bad.
I was on MediCal, free health insurance for low-income people, because my only income was about $1,000 a month working part-time at a winery. I called about seeking mental health care. There was one therapist, and, unless it was an emergency, you couldn’t make an appointment, but rather had to wait first-come, first-served.
Plan B. I went to the library and scanned the self-help section. I took out ten or twelve books. The first one I read changed my life. “The Ten Things to Do When Your Life Falls Apart.”
It asked me to think about how I got here. How my genetics and environment and experiences led me to this place. How my emotions and feelings evolved from childhood to adulthood. Not what was wrong with me. Not it was my fault my boyfriend cheated on me. Not that it was his fault either. Just think and examine and ask how I got here.
Then, count my blessings. I may feel like my world fell apart around me, but there was still good things in my life. Think about them, count every one of them up, cherish them, hold them tight, use them as a foundation to build on.
It then asked me what I wanted to change or improve about my life, myself. What would make me happier, more fulfilled. What would help me rebuild my foundation in a new way. An opportunity to put the pieces back together with a new look, new design, a better design that I create from scratch.
Then it challenged me to take some steps. Do something about it. Put myself out there. Start building what I want.
One of the things I realized through this process was that I was scared of being alone. I grew up the youngest of three, and, what I jokingly say, as an accident. My sister is 8 years older than me and my brother 6. I basically grew up as an only child. That meant no one to play with in the house. For example, when I was 7, my brother was 13 and my sister 15. They didn’t want to hang out with me. And they were both off to college by the time I was 12.
So I made my own adventures. I was creative, curious, exploratory. But also lonely. I had some friends, but at home the house was empty. My parents divorced when I was 12, and I lived with my mom, who was trying to rebuild her own life. She did the best she could, but I was left alone a lot during my teenage years. I became shy, introspective, introverted, desperate for human attention and connection.
My first boyfriend came in college at age 19. I met PhD as we were breaking up. I met Mechanic as PhD and I were breaking up. In sum, I had three back-to-back, monogamous relationships lasting 20 years – from ages 19-39. I didn’t want to be alone, and I made sure I wasn’t. I didn’t even realized it until this book asked me to reflect on myself.
Fuck, this is some scary shit I’m thinking about doing. I hadn’t been single since I was 19. I didn’t even have any girlfriends in the area. They were all over the country.
I decided I wanted to go away by myself for a few days to think and read. I also wanted to try something new. I decided on Half Moon Bay for two nights and to take a surfing lesson.
I got a room in a big Victorian within walking distance of restaurants and the water. It was nice to be in a place full of people, kids, dogs, chaos.
I arrived in the late afternoon, checked in and then went walking. I climbed on the rocks by the water, and felt the cold sand between my toes. I immediately felt calmer.
I wondered upon a local brewery and stopped in. I sat at the bar a little nervously. I couldn’t think of a time I had ever gone out by myself. The bartender chatted with me, but briefly. I stared at my phone, texted with Mechanic.
Two guys, one with a wedding band, struck up a conversation with me. We chatted about baseball, their lives as teachers, mine working at a winery, living in our respective towns.
I gave them both my winery card and said if they ever wanted to visit Napa Valley, they should get in touch. I was simply being polite. Wasn’t flirting. My mind was far from all that. I really wanted to just be with me.
An hour later, the single guy texted me asking if I wanted to grab a drink while I was in town. I was surprised and flattered. I turned him down nicely explaining a little bit why I was there by myself. He wished me well.
I went back to my room for a nap, got dressed and walked down to an Italian place on the water. I prevaricated a bit. Maybe I should just get something to go and go back to my room.
I grabbed a seat at the bar next to an older couple. I started chatting with them. They were visiting from Florida. They bought me a glass of wine and I gave them tourist tips for Northern California.
Next to me on my right was a gap in bar seating for people to walk up and order drinks. I was interrupted talking to the couple by a tall drink of water with a wide smile, cowboy boots and a thick Southern accent. Let’s call him Bluegrass.
He was here on a conference with co-workers, and was buying drinks for the table. He asked me what I wanted. Red wine.
He said he saw me walking in front of the restaurant even before I came in the door. Then watched my long legs in black cowboy boots cross the room and had been watching me at the bar ever since.
There’s more to Bluegrass’ story that I’ll tell later.
When I woke up the next morning, I got breakfast, grabbed my book and sat outside to read. Pausing from time to time, I looked up at the ocean. Heard the seagulls. Felt the crisp chill in the grey air.
I was scared to be alone. But in one day, with my mind as far from men as possible, I attracted two of them. I think I’ll be ok on this front. I think I’ll be ok.
The world will catch me. If I just put one foot out in front of another, the world will catch me.
Nerdie gave me a half a flat of peaches from Gold Country where his dad lives. There were pretty ripe so I didn’t think they would hold up being baked in a pie.
Instead, I envisioned a sweet and savory chunky jam that would go equally well with cheese as it would over vanilla ice cream. My vision come to delicious fruition! Here’s the recipe.
6 lbs ripe peaches, leave the skin on, pitted and quartered
2 Tbsp grassy California olive oil
2 tsp kosher salt
2 Tbsp lemon juice, or more to taste
1 1/2 cup brown sugar, dark if you have it, or more to taste
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.
On a large sheet tray, lay the peaches skin side down in a single layer. Sprinkle with olive oil and salt.
Roast 15 minutes, then turn on one flesh side. Roast 10 minutes more and turn to the other flesh side. Roast a final 10 minutes and remove from the heat.
When cool enough to handle, peel the skins off and discard.
In a medium pot, combine the peaches, lemon juice and brown sugar. Cook down over medium-low heat for 25-30 minutes.
Mash with a potato masher until you have your desired chunkiness.
Taste for acid, salt and sugar, and adjust to your taste.
When it’s cooked down and reached your desired thickness, cool and store in the fridge for up to a month, or preserve longer by canning.