Disclaimer: Understand this is just one experience. Not all dating app hookups are like this but this was just too funny and I had to share. As always, everything here is true and the names of my stallions (and this guy) are kept discreet.
Don’t wanna be mean but at the same time I gotta be real. Pepe was…very excited, that night. Lets start at the beginning because I’ve been told by a very reliable nun that ”that‘s a very good place to start”.
We match on a certain dating app. We text. He wants to meet IMMEDIATELY. Yay for initiative and ambition and cojones! I figure we could skip the early convo and just see how things jive in person.
“Let’s do it,” I wrote back.
He straight up asks me how far things were likely to go. I straight up tell him it can go as far as I want. Let’s see how chemistry goes, first. So we meet at a quaint, little diner. Pepe is a decently handsome man. Strong lower body thanks to lots of outdoorsy activities. Okay upper body. Things could go well for us. That is until part way through our conversation and he sticks his tongue in my mouth. Literally no warning. Words words words TONGUE. Have you ever seen a viper strike? Hello Pepe’s tongue.
Maybe I needs amend my former post about initiative because apparently there’s such a thing as too much initiative.
But don’t get me wrong, Pepe is a sweet guy. He is an intelligent, accomplished guy. We connected intellectually. But I’m not here to talk about intellectual stimulation. There’s a whole other stimulation I was hoping for that night so I decided to give this a bit more of a chance. Maybe with the tongue thing out of the way, peppy Pepe might calm down a bit…
Fast forward to his house.
Literally this ^.
Within minutes.
Some might think this an amazingly spontaneous and exciting thing to have a man tear his clothes off in under two-seconds flat like a fuckin‘ stripper ninja.
Maybe if done right. But this? Just weird.
Poor Pepe. He really really wanted it. It was cold in his house so I didn’t even take off my jacket. But did that stop peppy Pepe? Nope again! His hands were all over me, tugging and pulling. He quickly moved my hand to his cock and guided me in the desired motion because apparently I didn’t know how to stroke dick. Here’s the thing: I totally didn’t because he had me going at like, a mile a minute. Imagine, if you will, one of those old-school wind-up fast food kid meal toys that you set on the table and have gyrate for your villainous pleasure. That was his hand on my hand.
Now let’s unmute this scene.
“Mmmm yeah you wanna suck my dick?”
“Nope.”
“You wanna suck my balls?”
Not the most apt follow-up, Pepe.
“Nope.”
“Can I see your nipples?”
In his fucking freezer box of a house? He would have seen them through a parka.
“Nope.”
It was at this point Pepe magnanimously allowed me to take over the hand job. So there I am, still fully clothed, sitting on the couch as I worked this totally naked dude. Could have been fun. Should have been fun. Except for the crazy anime pose he had going on right in front of me.
“Mmmm what are you thinking about baby?”
“About my arm getting tired.”
And no shit! This is the point Pepe removes my hand and just goes to fucking town on himself. It officially became a spectator sport and holy hell the dude was all-pro. His hand blurred. At some subconscious level I could appreciate Pepe’s dedication to his craft. Then suddenly I remembered where this was all headed.
Shit shit!
My reflexes go instinctual as I ready myself to fucking matrix dodge whatever the hell Pepe was revving up. Not quick enough. His load goes all over my front. He drops into the couch beside me, breathless.
“That was amazing,” he groans. “You’re amazing.”
I clean myself and smile over at him because at the end of the day, he’s still a sweet guy.
“I’m touching myself tonight,” he declares.
I pat his leg affectionately.
“I believe you.”
….Now where’s Armando?