My Vanilla Sex With Your Toppings....

I'm sitting in front of my television thinking about events of these past week. Yes, I ran into my very attractive ex-boyfriend/fuck-buddy/love of my life... looking absolutely DAPPER in a uniform. (Oh my! How I've always wanted to screw a good looking man in uniform)... Hehehe. Okay, I consider myself pretty progressive, sexually. And even though I'm a romantic at heart...I realise there's a new kind of men and I recently decided I have no guile, skipping preliminary(s) and going straight for SEX on first dates. Why waste time, I reasoned. Life is short and I'm an adult. If I don't like sex with a guy, really what would be the point in a long courtship? Technically, I'm doing us both a favour...right? I mean its a more fun way to get sex out of the way and see how you connect on other levels. I mean sex isn't much of a big deal these days right?...with the way men are hopping on and off different women, its safe for me to define sex as just 'a body touching another body' simple and as meaningless as KISSING has become. Hahahah.

Anyway, I didn't want to look at this ridiculously handsome creature who knows how to get ON my skin and UNDER my skin all in the same breathe...standing in front of me a little distant. So I decided to look away But not before I caught a quick glimpse of him staring at another lady...And my ever 'drifting' mind quickly travelled to my last image of us together... the one of him ROARING like the MGM lion, again and again, while climaxing after pounding me for almost 40 minutes (Okay, technically...pounding seems like hard manual labour... I think pummeling was more like it...still it was one of the best VANILLA sex we'll ever have... as it was a mixture of what I think love making should be...gentle and grinding and simple his plugs found every cranny of my sockets...and my mouth found his left nipple (how I never knew that was a sure way to unleash a volcanic eruption until recently...amazes me) And yes, his rippling signature roar, "I'm cumminggg....aaarrrggggh" which was a long one, accompanied by a protracted shaking of his long limbs. Hehehe. (Oh geez, he will kill me if he reads this). It would've been a shame, wouldn't it, if, after many earnest and costly dates, he pulls that during a first sexual tryst with a woman? Because as far as deal breakers go, the roaring is UNEQUIVOCAL. Lol. Mainly because it is evident we are not allowed to burst into uncontrollable laughter. Actually I'm usually scared shit-less. Imagine him convulsing to a fit and then, die on me (Heaven Forbid)....With scintillating headlines "Man Dies On Top Alex Okoroji" Hian, not a great way to trend biko. Hahahah. Still I'm cool with a man doing whatever crazy thing he wants...just as long as he doesn't come near my anus, doesn't cum on my face, doesn't expect me to deep throat him and oh...he better not pull my 180k indian-hair weave. Lol...And...Err... I should be allowed to express my amusement at his hilarious sexual theatrics...or shouldn't I?

Aside from my laughter, which is not any insecure man's cup of tea — but then, I've always avoided insecure men in bed —oh please, don't ever ask me if that was the best sex of my life or if I could feel your willy communicating to the universe in swahili or whether my coochie and your cock are soul mates from a past life. Were you too quick? Did I enjoy it? Hian! Please flash back and try to remember what I was doing then... If I wasn't whistling, humming a song or blogging as you were going at it. Its safe to think, our 'shebang' went okay. Lol. But please just don't ask me...Insecure men and sex don't mix well for me. I try not to complain....I never do...even though I really don’t think men have anything to complain about, sexually, with me...I mean... And yet, I wonder how I seem to be leaving something to be desired with my stubborn Lion a.k.a The Tiger...(nicknamed him, after a love bite happened to miraculously appear on my face) what with me having to tell everyone I hit my face on my car steering...hehehe... Yet he is still in love with another so...break your waist trying to please a man ...catch PID (Pelvic Inflammatory Disease) in the process sef, a man who wants you for just sex, wants you for just sex. Abeg burn the KAMASUTRA o doesn't say nothing about how to convert LUST to LOVE. After all these time...the track is still on repeat "I love you Alex...but I'm not in love with you"..."I know I love you, I just don't know how much"..."Its true I love you...but I'm still trying to get over her and figure out which path to follow" "You are special to me and I don't want to hurt you...I would hate to lose you"... Hahahah...My own interpretation "I don't want to lose you...but I don't want to keep you either" ...(Make una help me judge matter) still all he has to do is flip out his dick and I'm on all fours. (E remain to write the word "FOOLISH" in pink fonts and staple it to my forehead. I mean how can an intelligent woman like me, love a man as 'stupid' as him (and I say stupid, only for not knowing who truly loves him). Lol. Well, picture me broken-hearted writing on a postcard to my Caucasian friends, "Over here the men are stupid...stupidly in love with the wrong women!" Hahahah.

I realize now, that I've been way too attached to my sexual craving of him. And whenever I say I'm done fanning his sexual embers...I let him draw me in with his eyes or a simple conversation...and when I try to turn my back hoping to push him away...big mistake...cos that's when he literally chooses to run his hands down my back and stroke my entire body till it finds my somewhat erect nipples...and boom! Egba mi! We are back there again... Alex, you're a bad girl. Hahahah. Still I really need to get away from him. I need to find someone NEW who will understand me, my body, and do to me what only him has been able to up until now...even for just a night. Someone who will occupy me...and all of me till I'm screaming incredible PROFANITY from sheer ECSTACY. Maybe it is me who is more selfish now...cos I'm not afraid to make a man work. "Dip your head soldier and eat up my WET snatch like you're digging for pure gold." Yes ke, and I couldn't be bothered really. I found that I've failed to see why I should worry too much about sexually pleasing a man, I was just seeing for the SAKE of sex. I mean, I didn't mind if I pleased him, but why would I make that my life's objective?

I am spoiled, is what I am. My older man of yore had been grateful for the tasty little MORSEL that I'd been, and he hadn't offered MUCH in return, mainly taking his PLEASURE from the pride of FUCKING an adoring young woman — and that adoring young woman was all about learning as much about sex as I could from an experienced, self-assured man.

The problem was obvious: I'd picked up a bad attitude from him and Now, I, too, want to have 'uncommitted' sex with ANY adoring and giving person... without giving very much back in return (unless by fortuitous accident that costs me absolutely nothing) hehehe. It seems pretty much an ideal way to run one's sex life, between true loves and boyfriends, right? Even though I think people use monogamy to justify their sexual behaviour..."Well, I'm not a slut if he ends up my boyfriend...I'm not a sex addict if she becomes my girlfriend"...hahahah, you think?... Either way, I don't care...I mean if there’s going to be a lazy sexual douchebag in the equation, why shouldn’t it, be me? All I needed was a change of tactics and over the years I’d pretty much tried everything, and come to the conclusion that I'm absolutely CONTENT with a few conventional positions as long as I have a cheerful lover. Yes, I'll bring the VANILLA SEX...he'll bring the TOPPINGS, all sweet with no pain.

So I switch channels and look for something more exciting to watch...Nothing. The next movie comes up in 10 minutes... So I emailed a friend of a friend who, it was rumored, had either given or taken 'female-empowering' MASTURBATION lessons. I had never bothered to ask, because anyway: whether given or taken — doesn't make any difference to me, really. Anyway, I had a hunch she wasn’t SHY about sex, and that’s what counted. Also, she’d let me read, a number of amusing "sexual crime" screenplays her husband had written and this had created a certain strange, random bond between us. She was a very cool, beautiful, strong, older — and she seemed to have very good taste in men. She might have just the man for me in her little BLACK book.

So, I asked her if she knew, by any chance, of a sexually cheerful, enthusiastic, well-mannered (and thus, probably older) man who’d like to take me out for dinner and sex (though not necessarily in that order) every now and then, who would refrain from all the possessive rigmarole of DATING in earnest...while not trying to place upon me the dreaded mantle of the "fuck buddy". Yes, I wanted no attachment whether emotionally or sexually.

One thing, though...I specified, He has to come with REFRENCES. I mean, even though I wanted a stranger...I wanted a 'familiar stranger' not an alien stranger because in the end, this was about me washing 'Tiger's hand-print' off my body not me getting sexually mugged. I mean...I've always thought, "IF YOU CAN'T GET OVER SOMEONE, JUST GET UNDER SOME-ONE ELSE..." abi, no be so?... So she responded..."Let me look around. I’ll get back to you".... Which she did, by the end of the week.... "Alex, I’ve got the perfect man" she wrote to me... "I used to sleep with him myself, and he’s the nicest guy ever, a great lover...has a COCK as big as a coke can. He’s in an open marriage, he’s a billionaire, and he’ll call you on Monday at six."

And so, I was set up with my first random hook-up. I hoped her appraisal of him as a GENITAL super-hero was just an exaggeration..I mean, I’m really not that greedy na...What would I do with 9-inches of a black PENIS biko? We spoke on the phone that Monday, and he asked me "How would you like to do this?"

"Oh, you know, the regular way..." I joked.

"No, I mean, do you want to meet up for dinner first, or …?" trailing off.

“Do you have any other ideas?” I ventured, taking my cue.

“Well, I do have this fantasy, but maybe it’s dumb.” He said.

“Why not let me be the judge of that...” I said, which was a bit of a TEST, because for some reason, "I will be the judge of that..." has always gone over well with men.

"Okay, it goes like this..." he said (passing the test), "I book a hotel room in advance, and you arrive before me, put on whatever finery or lingerie it is you like to wear, and then wait for me. No lights on. Just the light from outside coming into the room through the window. I arrive, we have sex, and then we go to dinner."

"Okay, I’ll tell you something that might sound dumb to you," I said to him... "I've often found myself fancy a man, wanting only to go to bed with him... and then getting myself asked out on a date. We go to dinner, but by the end of dinner, I’m exhausted from all the polite chitchat and formal drag of it all, that I just want to go home and forget the whole thing. So …  Yes, I really do like your idea."

"You are the coolest person I’ve ever met! I mean, will meet..." he said, sounding genuinely in awe.

Heck, even I was quite proud of myself. I'm playing the mysterious female. Hahaha.

He made the arrangements, booked a room at a Fancy Hotel. I dug up my sexy hot pink and black corset and panties to match, wore them under a fitted black 'shirt-dress', with a pair of expensive black stretch suede knee-high boots my brother TJ got me. Although I didn’t have a full Brazilian, I trimmed to what I deemed a charming lawn down there. (I mean, if he's a carpet muncher, he would love my nicely trimmed pussy) All this together, I figured, should be enough to get any healthy man’s engine, fired up.

I fussed a bit over my makeup and set out for our rendezvous. Got into the hotel room, was anxious as it would be my first blind I hid a condom under the pillow, checked my silhouette in the mirror a few more times, then sat down on the coverlet to wait... gazing casually out the window with the lights off (as per his request), the afternoon light reflecting off the building opposite the window, back lighting me.

He arrived, we did our respective quick reads of each other to make sure nothing was seriously amiss as he popped the bottle of champagne nicely placed in the bucket, decided nothing was, and then poured me a glass … and so we kissed...his lips soft, warm and prodding...very knowledgeable...Officially, the best non-commital kiss hands down... with a man, I met just whaaaat 10 minutes ago? Okay, I was starting to relax...this is gonna be good, I could feel it. His hands softly cupped my face and I could see a bit of glimmer is in eyes... And so I stripped off every piece of clothing I had on and helped him into his birthday suit...You know what I mean...Gracious me, he smelled so good...I could eat him...And yes, I tossed aside my vanilla theory to taste him and then, we fucked...Its been a while I straddled a man...that I'd almost forgotten it was the definite way to get this cow-girl to cream from penetration...and boy, did I yes, we did it...and we did, with a condom (just so you know I’m no fool). Hahaha (If I recall correctly, he may also have kept his socks on.) As for his size, let's just say I had nothing to complain about, but he wasn't a mutant-hero, thank goodness my friend exaggerated.

Afterwards, we lay there, and murmured our greetings, "Hello, there!"... "Nice meeting you...". What a cool way to introduce yourself... We chatted and laughed together in the dark for a little while. Then he proposed we go have dinner at a place around the corner where he’d made reservations, and while we got dressed he did something that warmed my cockles... he pulled out some stapled-together pictures and papers from his briefcase and handed them to me: "This is a photocopy of a collection of several articles written about me. I thought you might like some references." Hahaha. (At least, I know I did not bang a serial killer). Lol.

At dinner, after letting me glance over the powerful articles and watching me grin at this or that amusing anecdote within, he asked me about myself. I told him about my career as an actress and all my other creative endeavours, and he seemed rather impressed — and then asked 'what a great girl' like me was doing without a boyfriend — told him about my last ROMANTIC disappointment. He shared his opinion... that I was still the coolest woman he'd ever met...SEXY and SMART...which...along with the delicious red wine and dinner after AWESOME sex on my 'own' terms, I don't mind was a cool way to spend my evening.

I was thoroughly impressed. Almost impressed enough to not keep thinking that, amazing as this man was...I wished he were a little more like my Tiger. But sex with a new man is sometimes a MUST for wiping off the board of 'DISAPPOINTED' love clean...So while my heartache was definitely feeling a little dulled, the voices of self-recrimination slightly muted. Both good signs... A dessert menu pops up, I can have my red velvet cake and some yogurt...yummy news indeed. As we nibbled our desserts, he continued to draw me out with questions. What kind of music did I like? Who were my favourite artists? All my answers were good, and he kept showering me with attention and earnest compliments through the evening, but somehow, I knew I may never see him again...still I wanted to enjoy the night...Just then, the power cut...Whaaaat? PHCN Noooooo, not now! The Television goes off and I'm jolted back to reality...Wait oh! Don't tell me I drifted for the last hour, fantasizing about 'sex' with Blair Underwood's charming character in the movie I was watching... Shuucks!!! So much for finding a new replacement for Tiger. Aaaarrrggghh!!!

Have A Terrific Tuesday Lovelies! Kisses!

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