Wednesday, July 27, 2011

All the Wrong Reasons

Note: There is straight sex in this blog entry. If you are offended by breasts and vagina, I suggest you just skip this one. For those of you that can push through, enjoy.

Ann was a girl I had known for a long time in school, but we had never talked much. She and I were on totally different levels for most of my young life. I don't think we even had a direct conversation until my Sophomore year of high school. It was in the spring and for some reason a friend of mine and I were at Burger King. I say "for some reason" because it was really a pit in the form of a Burger King. No one ever cleaned the dining room, and people had pretty much stopped eating there regularly. And yet, here we were, eating there.

Ann was eating there too. She was in line in front of me. I can't remember who she was there with, but it may have been her brother. It isn't that important other than to say that she and her brother were both very attractive in that older Hollywood way: large lashes, not a lot of make-up, curled hair styled perfectly, crisp lines in the clothes. She was a glamorous girl, and it always made her stand out over the other girls who just wore short skirts and tight tops. It was her style that probably elevated her to the top of the popularity food chain.

I had already begun moving up the popularity ranks myself, having already fucked my way in to the popular crowd. But Ann and I still didn't connect. So I wasn't too surprised when we got in line behind her and she turned, looked us up and down, and then turned away. What surprised me was that she turned around again and looked directly at me, then smiled and said, "Hey, how have you been?"

I was more than a little confused, but I said, "Ok. How about you?"

"I'm doing great," she said, "But we never hang out anymore." She almost sounded like she was sad about it.

I didn't reply We never hung out to begin with, like I wanted to. Instead I said, "Yeah, I know. I'm sure we've just been busy with school and sports."

"Yeah, well hey, why don't we hang out after school tomorrow? My dad can bring us over to my place and you can get a ride home from there."

We figured our plans out and a quick phone call to our parents sealed the deal on both ends. The next day saw me standing outside of the school with her while her father pulled up in a car that screamed money. She got in the passenger seat and I slid in the back. I gave her father a friendly smile and handshake, but I could tell he didn't like my look. At the time I was a jeans and hoodie guy and my hair was bleached to hell from swimming every day. I didn't look that unusual, but then again, I didn't look like the right class to be seeing his daughter. We poorer folk often get the shaft.

Her father dropped us off at the house and drove off on some errand. I got the vibe that he didn't want to be around but also wanted us to know that he was coming back soon. This didn't discourage Ann. Once we were in the door she was making out with me, working her hands up my shirt.

"Hey," I said, having been caught off guard, "Slow down a bit, ok?"

"No way," she said, "We're doing this now."

She lead me up stairs and into what was clearly her parents' bedroom. There was still a part of me that was hesitant about what we were doing, but the kinky nature of what we were about to do got me turned on. I became more forceful and grabbed her, pushing her to the bed. She leaned back on it seductively while I stripped out of my clothes. Fully naked and fully hard, I climbed up over her and began grabbing her breasts, feeling then through her shirt, and then cupping them from under the fabric. I amazed her with my ability to unhook a bra with one hand and then worked my way down.

"Man, this is crazy," I said once we were both naked.

"Yeah," she agreed. The smile she flashed me was one full of naughty fun. I couldn't believe that this glamour girl was in my hands, covering my face with her breasts, her hips, her pussy. Before she was unattainable, but now she and I were on the same level. We were sluts and we were going to fuck.

I got her going with a good oral work over. I pushed my cock near her face, hoping she'd blow me, but she didn't seem interested. Finally I decided I needed to channel all the dominant men I had been with in the recent years and take control. "Suck my cock," I said to her with force, "Suck it you bitch." Her eyes opened wide, but she stopped resisting me when I pushed her head down.

The main event was quick but still very excited. She unrolled a condom on to my cock (I know, disappointing for a bare lover like myself) and I pushed in. She took me with ease, and I began fucking her with passion. She met my thrusts with a sharp jab of her hips, dragging her nails into my back and scowling with the effort of fucking me hard. And she was very vocal with me. "Fuck me hard," she would say. "Fuck me on my parents bed. Fuck me harder."

While watching her angry face and feeling her nails scratching my arms, I realized what was going on here. She wasn't fucking me because she was attracted to me, though that may have been part of it. I wasn't even really there for her. I was just someone she was using to get back at her parents. I was a tool. I was meaningless.

While that might have pissed off some people, it just got me more into the sex. I didn't need it to be meaningful. I was perfectly fine being used. I was just going to make sure that I got as much pleasure as possible from her before it was over.

When she finally came it was like a huge expulsion of a held breath. She didn't put on a performed, "Oh, oh, oh," like the porn stars do. It was just one, long note that she held as her body shuddered around me. I didn't stop fucking her. I pounded until I finally came in the condom and filled it up with my cum. I pulled out and started to take it off.

"Go do that in the bathroom," she said. She was lying on the bed still, pretty worn out.

By the time I was back from cleaning up, she was downstairs watching TV as if nothing had happened. She smiled as I came into the living room and thanked me for a good time. "You should know," she said, "This doesn't mean we're a couple."

"I know," I said.

"I just needed to have some fun."

"Don't worry, I get it."

She stopped making excuses and smiled again. We watched TV for a while before my mom picked me up. Ann and I never became friends or anything, but we did share one thing: we both had a drive to have sex. While my sexual adventures were from a sense of joy and fun, hers seemed to come from a very angry place. Our paths crossed and out sex was great, but it didn't mean anything. We had fucked, but there was no connection. We were just two people using each other.

It was great.


  1. "it was great"...awesome lol.
    I'm a straight girl and I hate when girls make those high orgasm screams, being noisy is fine but sometimes they hit decibels that make me cringe.

    I'm totally into dirty talk, but for some reason guys get quiet when I do it. I'm afraid I'm shocking them because I know they don't expect it from me, or maybe they're just concentrating... I don't know what to make of it. But I keep doing it anyway because it turns me on LOL.

  2. Anonymous 11:21,

    I think that some guys don't know how to react when faced with the reality that women can be just as piggy in bed as men. Society seems to enjoy making women into petite, non-sexual entities, and men aren't good at changing that perception in the heat of the moment.

    I, however, have always appreciated a partner telling me I'm doing my job right.


  3. @Anonymous: You go, girl! If the boys don't get it or aren't doing it right, teach 'em. Teach 'em hard. Sooner or later you'll have a pack of willing and experienced guys ready to co-explorers of pleasure with you.

  4. Thanks men! I know they'll thank me for it someday, right? Or their girlfriends or wives will.

  5. Women are not for me. But I still enjoyed this post, and quite a bit. (The warning was considerate.) The comments are just as good.

    Maybe "Anonyma 11:21" would have better luck with men who enjoy sex toys -- prostate stimulators/vibrators, strap-ons, etc. More and more het men are past the silly notion that such make them "gay".

    I hope you or Breeder will write about a novel toy session sometime. Het or homo (or both?) would be equally interesting, and as unique as the Web can be.

  6. Thanks for the warning at the start! And while straight sex as such does nothing for me, the image of you fucking her without hesitation or shame or self-doubt, greedily rocking in and out of her body as you rise to the peaks of orgasm, makes me very hard indeed.

  7. Where were all these girls when I was in high school? They were there, I'm sure, but I was just too goofy to figure out which ones they were.

    The "parents' bed" is pretty interesting. When I finally did get a girlfriend who loved sex, we did it on her parents bed a few times and I felt like there was something more than just a place to fuck for her. Like she was leaving a message of some sort.

    Enjoyed the post.

  8. JonKing,

    Well, I'm glad I'm hot enough to get you to read straight sex. Hope you took care of your hardness in a pleasant fashion.


  9. JFBreak,

    I think you just have to know where to look. The sex-loving girls are out there, they just aren't going to show their piggy side as much as us guys. And I think any time a girl wants to have sex in her parent's bed it is a message. At least with Ann it was.


  10. @JFBreak: "[...]I felt like there was something more than just a place to fuck for her. Like she was leaving a message of some sort."

    It's called spoor. It's useful to remember that not only males mark to claim or challenge territory. Nice that she didn't feel compelled to do so by leaving her dung on a rock - or a nightstand, dresser, etc.

  11. RedPhillip,

    And there is an image we all didn't need to see.


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