There should be no shame in a girl wanting just sex. It’s a playful side of mine that I had repressed in my early 20s, back when I was fixated on marriage and a search for “real love.”
Something changed as I approached 30. I was walking around constantly aroused. My mind was focused on philosophical conversations and advancing my career but my body was forcefully converting me back to my animal instincts. For the first time in my life I not only wanted just sex… I craved it.
Suddenly, I was aroused by everything. Bikini waxes would get me wet. The esthetician gently tugging my panties out of the way would kickstart my pussy and leave me wet and throbbing. A physiotherapist would touch my neck and I would crumble into his hands. A pedicurist would take her brush to wipe away excess polish off the tip of my toe and all I could picture was a cock entering inside me. I was… for lack of a better word… incredibly horny.
I began to put my cravings into action. First man to cross off my list: my 45-year-old obsession, Mr. Big. I nicknamed him after the infamous Sex and the City character for many reasons, but mostly because he was always just out of my reach. I had always been too shy to force my way into his bedroom, and unfortunately he was the kind of guy you had to be bold with.
So there I was, one Saturday evening, sitting across from him at a table full of friends and colleagues. Everyone was laughing and having fun and I had one thing on my mind: fucking Mr. Big. I wanted to lean over the table, grab his tie and pull him into me. I wanted to lick my lips wet and smother his mouth with them. I wanted to swallow his tongue and rip off his shirt. I wanted to throw him on the table, grab his cock and shove it in me.
Sometimes I’ll text a guy: “shower me with ur cum” but I don’t actually mean it. With Mr. Big though… I wanted to get on my knees under the table and take a literal shower in his cum. Full porno scenes. Cum shower. I wanted it all from him. Everything.
I was ready.
I waited until the bar was loud enough and the person seated next to him had exited for the night. He moved his legs under the table away from mine. I imagine this was his attempt to escape. He was quite literally… out of reach.
I put my phone face down on the table and took the last sip of my drink. I raised myself off my chair and perched my ass out as my heels dug into the floor. I leaned over the table and put my hand on Mr. Big’s blazer. I looked down as my lashes brushed over my cheeks. I raised my eyes up to meet his and said: “I want you to fuck me tonight. Hard.”
I lowered my ass back into my seat and grabbed my keys. I exited the bar swiftly.
Mr. Big texted me after I left. He asked me if I was sure about my request. I told him I was. He arranged for a hotel and texted me the room number.
There are many times in life where fantasy does not match reality. For the most part I’d say that reality never lives up to fantasy. Mr. Big exceeded my fantasies. He was every bit attentive as I had imagined. He was talented and bold. His cock was huge but that didn’t even matter. His boldness made my pussy drip all on its own. He could have made me cum with every touch.
Mr. Big continues to be… Mr. Big. Although we may never meet up again, he did teach me a valuable lesson. I wanted this sex to fall in my lap. I wanted him to want me so bad that he reached over the table for me. I deserved that. I was younger than him and I was pretty. How could he resist me?
He could and he did.
I had to come to his level. He didn’t want to play games. He wanted to hear my intentions straight from my lips. He wanted me to be sure.
I am not entitled to anything in life. I am not entitled to any person or relationship. You may ask, but that does not mean you will get. There is no mathematical equation for winning sex.
Sometimes asking doesn’t hurt though.