i scream, you scream

who wants to grind?

Admitting Defeet

with 2 comments

We had been friends for a few years. I could always count on him for a fine dinner, a glass of wine and a friendly good-bye. Nothing that remotely ever even smelled of sex or attraction, except maybe on my part in the beginning. That moment had been extinguished by the wise words of a now dearly departed confidante, “Sometimes, it’s good to  just be good friends.”

Honestly though, I spent a couple of years masturbating to thoughts of him. I held my breath at the end of every one of those purely platonic date nights in suspense only to drive off in my car, alone, repeating, “Sometimes, it’s good to just be good friends,” over and over until I could get home and release my frustrations on my own.

A couple of weeks ago, after a day of cruising galleries and a candlelit dinner, we decided to throw caution to the wind and do the damn thing. Five years of wondering and agonizing were about to culminate in a little, gorgeous boutique hotel in a dreamy college town where neither of us lived (neutral territory). He laid on the bed, inviting me to join him. I sat on top of him and kissed him. No turning back; now or never. Clothes came off, condom on and I was thrilled at his size, he had been holding out on me.

Then shit got awkward, in the worst way. Maybe it was the alcohol, perhaps the lights were too bright or the build up was just too much. Two good friends of the opposite sex finally dive in and for all our wonderful conversations on art, life, and love we don’t know where to put our arms. However, we persisted, we had to make it work even if the condom was too small. I reflected on how unlike all those fantasies rehearsed solo in my bed this had become and I started to rue de-robing. Then, in one final attempt to get this humdinger off the ground, he turned to me and said, “Maybe if you put your feet on it.”

I had been wearing sandals the whole day, but it was worth a try. He certainly did come back to life, for another minute anyway, preferring both feet as opposed to one I learned. After several more attempts at intercourse, it became apparent that the feet were the catalyst, like waving hands to control the oscillators and amplitude of a theremin, it only came to pitch when my feet were in direct contact. The sexiness of the moment was gone for me. Nothing left to do but leave him with a kiss as he jacked off with the hotel lotion.

I got to my car and started the drive home, all the while thinking, “Sometimes, it’s good to just be good friends.”

Written by whiptcreeem

July 21, 2009 at 7:23 pm

Posted in sex stuff

2 Responses

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  1. o come on ya’ll… don’t act like you knOW what a theremin is…


    July 22, 2009 at 9:37 pm

  2. This seriously confuses me. He wanted you to put your foot on his cock? What the hell does that even do? Is that for cock pressure or because he wanted to see your feet work his junk?

    Opening a new cock is like opening a can of turgid worms, only worms are way more predictable. And you can throw them away when you’re done.


    March 5, 2010 at 10:29 am

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