I'm like Kate Winslet in The Reader for some intellectual conversation..
So I hung out with this guy tonight, that I'd hung out with once before. I knew full well going into it that he wanted nothing more than to get his cock sucked. Still, I went for a walk with him on the riverwalk. We held hands as we entered at the wooded part of the trail. For a few moments it was so dark we could barely see the trail in front of us. The sounds of the forest at night and the flowing water of the nearby river orchestrated our journey. It was at once exciting and relaxing. We talked about our lives, why neither of us finished college--interestingly we got the same score on the SAT. He started at Purdue, an engineering student, but the calculus became too much for him. We talked about my dream of re-opening the chipped ice stand on the riverwalk that has been closed for years.. He told me about the overhead I hadn't anticipated--liability insurance etc. We talked about the decline of the United States as a world power. We talked about politics, he didn't vote as he didn't feel our vote counts--Michigan and Florida in the last election, and Al Gore in the 2000 election. I was very impressed with him. After walking almost two miles, we sat on a bench near the river and he put his arm around me and began to rub my back. I leaned in and kissed him, we began to make out and caress each other. He fingered me briefly and I gave him the blow job he wanted.
That's how the story ends.
He got the blow job he wanted, took me home, and left.
How do I feel? Empty. Alone. Longing.
Why do I do this to myself? Casual sex is so very shallow.
If only my father had loved me.
That's how the story ends.
He got the blow job he wanted, took me home, and left.
How do I feel? Empty. Alone. Longing.
Why do I do this to myself? Casual sex is so very shallow.
If only my father had loved me.