Submitted anonymously under the pseudonym Peaches.
“I am bigger than what you see. Don’t let my filthy innocence amuse you into too much comfort.”
It’s not me it’s you. LOL. I hate that statement. But really it’s not me it’s you. I meant to find a polite way to tell him he messed up. But when it’s your first time you’re never really sure who messed up. I had been sold dreams of pain and unexpected pleasure but I just lay there feeling a dissatisfaction that could ruin nations. Like being promised a slice of a ridiculously delicious white forest cake but getting a piece of dry and mouldy wholemeal bread. I was peeved.
I had made love to this specimen repeatedly in my intellectual bubble. Spanked him with intelligence. Tied him up with grace and mystery. I had gone forth to experience explosions far more nuclear than the human mind could handle. The orgasm was fully anticipated. It rained hailstones of lust. Such a long awaited clash of the bodies. I wanted to humble his ego for what felt like eternity. I wanted him to tame the beast in me. Our moans and groans to merge into a chorus that would turn even a nun on.
I burnt with passion and I could see in his eyes he had every intention to make me behave and learn not to test how hot the fire of the canal sins. I was ready, “take me” I told him, this stallion begged to be mounted and ridden until it yearned for rest. And I was that rider, hoping to feel the power and energy and heart beating with strength to keep going under me. I was ready to be in control. I had hope to walk out dancing and singing “I’ve had the time of my life… and I owe it all to you”. To beam and waltz with my in satisfaction. As he laid me down the smile on my face was far bigger than a politician on payday. I wanted this…
He began rummaging through his pockets. I heard him furiously go through his drawers. “Just a minute babe” he said. But you know a fire doesn’t burn forever. I was getting impatient, I could feel the disappointment to make love to me instead. It did a ‘two minute man’ on me. By the time we realized he had no condoms the anticipation had died out. I was gutted. We lay quite for a while.
“It’s not me, it’s you’. The words echoed through the sexually frustrated air in the room, he turned, and kissed me with gentle fury and power that left my lips numb and feelings confused. What was he trying to do? Kill me with lust?? And he said ‘ I’m sorry….’
