Damn, I’ve got that deep down need and yearning for a serious hot sweaty get all slick and panting fuck. Missionary, where we look deep in each others eyes, sharing our breaths, the intimacy so thick it fucking hurts. Where we have to come but don’t want to just yet. Where we simply melt emotionally and raw, no judgement, just that love and appreciation, and ohmygawd eye rolling gasping heart pounding muscle cramping cum… yeah, that would hit the spot right now 🙂
I had meant to post this last week. Doh!
I recently had my first one-night-stand in several years. It was completely spontaneous and pleasant. Not earth-shaking but a penis was in my vagina and that is a good thing. It’s been several months since I’ve enjoyed p-in-v and I’ve been missing it. Don’t get me wrong, I love all the other stuff, and my current lover is really good at the other stuff, but after all my years in the kink and alt communities simple missionary p-in-v is what gets me going. It’s so normal and vanilla it’s almost kinky.
So back to my encounter… I was camping solo at a regional Burn event. I was fresh and clean from a brisk shower, sipping a cold beer and strolling through the camp ground. This is a really friendly event so I thought nothing of it when a good looking guy struck a conversation. I was digging his unique hat and costume, but again no thought to anything except chatting with a first time Burner. Various conversational twists and turns led to me getting naked in his chill space for a massage.
Are you familiar with the term “guy with camera”? It’s used, often with derision, to describe so-called photographers whom are really just guys who have a spiffy camera and use it as a device to pickup girls. These are particularly prevalent in the kink communities.This guy was not a GWC but a GWMT – guy with massage table.
My massage was nothing more than a guy rubbing cocoa-butter on me. I was fine with that. It was nice to be touched and it really felt good to feel desired. It was simple and without pretense. It did not feel like a pity fuck, nor did it feel like a fat chick fetish thing. I liked that he didn’t try assure me that he found me attractive. And that he didn’t try to make excuses or reasons to have sex. Very respectful, tidy, neat, extremely vanilla, and boring. No orgasms for me but I was appreciative of the decent cock that got hard from me.
There are times when I really miss mind-blowing sex. The type where you’re panting, sweaty, and bone weary from some hard-core fucking. My ears will be buzzing and I’m a little light headed, probably giggly too. I love enumerating the bite marks and bruises, checking on knees and elbows, popping joints back into place, and wiggling my toes.
I need more of this sex stuff.