Mr Backup Slips it in…and off

Good Morning Lovers!

I’m feeling very American today, sitting in Starbucks drinking my venti hot chocolate. Don’t worry I’m not really here by choice, it was the closest cafe around, the heavens had just opened and I was desperate to shelter the precious muffin I had just purchased. So here I sit, laptop in front of me, happily tapping away on the keys as I listen to people order short caramel macchiato’s and and tall espresso frappacino’s. All this talk of coffee wankers got me thinking of a wanker of a different sort.

That’s right, Racist Buble popped back into my head. Now he was quite literally a wanker, as in all the time we slept together I couldn’t once get him off. I tried everything. Missionary, doggy, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, dress ups, bondage, sexy music, icy poles in certain places, nails down the back,front and middle, biting, licking and everything in between! But nothing. Hell of a lot of pre, but no big finale. The worst thing is he would tell me that if he went home and jerked off for two minutes watching porn he would be finished in seconds. Not one to give up easily I pulled up some of the best butt porn I could find on my phone and held that in front of his face while I wanked him at the same time. (It was certainly an arm workout I’ll tell you that!) But no, I’d chosen the wrong type of porn, or it was the boring bit where the girl was just giving him head. So sorry! He had very specific tastes, but not in the sexy Christian Gray way, in the “bloody hell what more do you want!” way. So we searched for the “correct” porn and away went my arm once more. But nothing, not even enough pre to keep me from having to use lube every five minutes. So in the end my sheets were soaked in strawberry scented lube, one of my arms was the size of a truck while the other was barely a kids scooter and RB lay in the middle of my bed, frustrated and unsatisfied.

Which is why I really had no qualms about cutting contact after the sex party. After all, no point in flogging a dead horse. Well, there was that and also what had happened the last two times we had had sex before the party. Something that I had only ever heard about actually happened to me.

So, the first time we had sex was lovely. I definitely came at least once for sure, I think the second was just an aftershock. Anyways after that delicious romp I was eager for more, so the next time RB came round I was quite happy to rip off his clothes and jump into bed. Things were going… well. I mean it wasn’t as intense as last time, but last time I’d been on a two month break (not by choice) so that was like sweeping away the cobwebs which is always a nice feeling. This time the cobwebs were gone though, the basement completely clear, so there was nothing to sweep away, so to speak.

I decided to switch it up and jump on top, my favourite of all positions. I was having a lovely time up there just chilling in my zone, but nothing was really happening. After doing a few jiggles and re-positioning I realised it just wasn’t going to happen for me this time. So with a sigh I rolled off and told RB to have his way with me and just finish himself off. Just as he was about to re-insert he said something that chilled me to the bone.

“Uh, where is it?”

“Where’s what?” I muttered impatiently, frustrated that my orgasm had evaded me so well.

“The condom.”

Shit! I sat bolt upright and scrambled around on the bed, frantically searching for that little latex tool of destruction. And that’s when I realised, it was inside me!

I ran to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. What to do? I put my leg up on the toilet seat and went cave diving into the murky depths. But nothing. So I forced my leg up higher onto the basin and tried again. Nothing! Next I tried for the age old squat on the floor. I channeled pregnant women everywhere and silently screamed to myself “Bear down! For the love of God bear down!” But no tiny miracle popped out, just a little bit of nervous pee. Ugh! I bent over with my legs straight and my head against the wall, scrabbling between my legs for any sign of foreign life. My god, without those cobwebs in the way my vagina was a vicious vacuum! It was literally sucking the condoms off men! I took a towel and silently screamed into it, cursing my ravenous roast beef curtains. Then I googled. That was a bad idea. Girls had actually had condoms stuck up there for days! Well that was not happening to me. I had to take a walking tour the next day and I certainly couldn’t do that with “stuff” all up in there! So I took a deep breath and went towards the door. As I did I heard a strange noise coming from the other side. What the? I opened the door to see RB sprawled on my bed, carefree as can be, furiously wanking.

“Seriously?” I snapped.

He looked at me like a wounded puppy. I sighed and crossed over to the bed.

“I  need you to help me.” I ground out.

“How?” he asked, completely oblivious to my desperate need to erase this entire episode from my mind.

I sighed and explained to him that he was going to have to go panning for gold. Except in this case the gold was a condom and the pan was my cavernous vagina. Suprisingly he was quite good about it and before I knew it I was flat on my back with a two fingered search party taking place in my undercarriage.

And he found it! Hazaar!

I could have cried with happiness. I was a free woman! Or more accurately, the condom was freed from it’s watery prison. I hugged RB and before turning him down flat when he asked for round two. I was grateful sure, but I was still traumatized! I mean come on, I had practically just fisted myself! I breathed a sigh of relief and tucked myself into bed, already making plans to get the morning after pill as soon as I woke up, if not sooner.

So Lovers, all the stories are true. Stuff like this does happen! And you know what else? It happened the next time we had sex as well! Of course by this time we were old hand at it and I just flipped onto my back and let him do his work. Nothing like digging around in the trenches for a lost soldier to kill the mood though, and alas it was never the same with RB again.

Talk to you again soon Lovers!

Claire xx

Pickup Line of the week: Do you work at Starbucks? Cause I like you a latte!


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