If only I were better, though.
‘Look, we will get over this as well, but you should really start talking divorce and move the fuck on,’ she said.
I took a breath.
‘…and I am not the only person who really gives a fuck about you. I don’t think I have to remind you my dad very much sees you as the son he’s never had,’ she said, caressing my hand.
‘Okay, you are right. I’ll have a serious think. Can we order something, please?’ I said, tired.
‘…But this isn’t done, okay? I love you,’ she said.
I was so done, though.
Four bottles of wine later and my payday had already suffered a severe beating. I had another month to go through and I had spent pretty much a quarter of my living money. The emotional conversations were happening more and more often. I had been crying so frequently, I was expecting an intervention on my dehydration. I suspected my meds were not working well enough. It was awful to think, but alcohol was the only thing that would quiet the voices in my head. The only thing that would eventually numb me enough not to feel shit.
I was well anesthetised at that point of the evening, though. Enough to feel a hint of horny in me.
Was I in the right state of mind to see a random guy? Or was I going to make the sensible choice and actually go home to sleep?
I turned Grindr on just to see what was going on. I hadn’t been on it since the night before. I was greeted by a ‘Fancy coming again tonight?’ text from Gary. The time stamp was a few hours before, but maybe he hadn’t finished without me yet? His house was just on my way home.
Eh. Screw it. Why not?
‘Still keen?’
It didn’t look like he had been online, but surprise. There he was.
‘Yes, please. Same £?’
Now I was feeling pathetic.
‘Yeah.’
And then he asked me to come over soon. Easy enough. I probably should have taken a shower, but I would rather be taking one afterwards. To cleanse.
The house was just down the road, in a leafy cul-de-sac. There was for sure someone else living with him. He gave me the impression it was a man, but I was pretty sure it was an eighty-year-old lady. No self-respecting man would be caught dead in a house with floral tapestry in every room, way too many cat toys without any visible cats and a chair so covered in dust, I assumed it was just someone’s ashes scattered on it.
His room was upstairs. I needed to take my shoes off and then take them with me. He’d whisper when he’d see me. I understood. Although those stairs were noisy.
He was in front of me, making way for his bedroom. Curtains were drawn. Khaki green with a pattern. DVDs everywhere. Stacked messily. A Star Wars poster and two Madonna ones. The more I’d look around, the more Madonna stuff would pop out.
He closed the door behind me. He was nervous again. You could tell he hadn’t been doing this often. Not that I was, but I was the kind of person to feed off other people’s insecurities. Because I was so insecure all the time. I also felt like I was playing a character. This incredibly butch, sporty, aggressive sexual being. I was gracing Gary with my presence. My busy schedule. Everyone wanted to suck my cock, and it needed to feel like a privilege for him.
I scouted for the money, and it was ready on top of the dresser. Perfect.
He was breathing heavy. I took my jeans off. I then took my top off, but kept my cap on, backwards.
I stood in just my pants and sports socks, semi-hard, showing off my bulge like a tease. He couldn’t wait. He put his face on it. Licked it through the fabric. Sniffed my pants and rubbed his face on them. He put one hand in his pants and placed his lips on my now hard dick. I took control. I quickly pulled my pants down, the elastic band just below my balls, then grabbed his hair from behind and shoved his mouth onto my pulsing cock.
He closed his eyes, made some noises. I did the same.
I was trying to enjoy this. I was playing my character, I was guiding his sucking, I was in control of his breathing.
I grabbed his hair and stopped the blow job. He looked at me while kneeling, his mouth still open and wet. I leaned and spat into it.
He gobbled.
He had liked it, but I asked if he was enjoying himself anyway.
‘Yes, more,’ he whispered submissively.
I obliged. Spat again into his mouth. Got some around his face as well.
Good.
‘Get on the bed,’ I ordered.
He wanted to be spanked. That’s what he asked for last time, and he was just begging for it to be done again.
He quickly took his sweatpants and underwear off, then swiftly jumped onto the bed with his face down and arse up.
He was presenting it to me. I moved over and grabbed his bum cheeks with both of my hands. I squeezed them hard and then spanked one.
Fairly hard, quick.
He made some noise. I ran my finger down his crack.
He was dry; I wanted to tease his hole.
I wanted him to want me to fuck him. I was sure I could ask more for fucking.
Fucking would take much more effort.
He was moaning. I put my finger into his mouth to get it wet. I shoved it down.
I wanted him to gag. I rubbed my now wet finger down his crack again. Put the tip of my index inside his tight hole, just the tip. Then spanked his other cheek.
I flipped him around, so he’d be lying on his back and I sat on his face.
I got my arse hole just on his mouth and then put my hand on his neck and choked him.
His tongue touched me; I rubbed myself on his face.
His moaning was so loud, I was fully into it.
I moved away slightly and then shoved my entire dick into his mouth, while my hands were on his forehead. I’d get deeper and deeper and he’d be touching his dick.
Then I took mine out. He gasped for air.
‘Cum in my mouth,’ he gushed.
This was a quick visit, so I was happy to put an end to it.
I grabbed my cock. I made him put his hand on my chest and quickly proceeded to wank over his face. I could come quickly, and he was ready for it.
‘I am going to cum,’ I said.
‘Yes, please sir,’ he responded.
That got me excited. I shot my load into his mouth, then on his cheek and one last shot on his stubble.
He came on his belly, a big load.
I sighed. I was a bit sweaty, but not excessively. It didn’t feel like I had done a lot; frankly, with the whole thing lasting no longer than six minutes, I wouldn’t pay as much as he was about to.
‘Cheers,’ he said in a breathy tone.
I got up, grabbed the towel conveniently placed by the bed and cleaned up my hand and my dick, then threw it at him. There was a lot that he needed to get off.
I dressed myself quickly.
‘Plans for tonight?’ I asked awkwardly, to fill the silence while I was tying my shoes.
‘Just TV and chill.’ He had a bit of an Essex twang.
Bit sleazy.
I took the money from the dresser and quickly glanced at it without necessarily counting it in front of him. It felt about right.
‘Thanks,’ I said while making my way out.
I also realised I probably should have waited until the end of the staircase to put my shoes on, but it was too late at that point.
I quickly went down and left, closing the door delicately behind me.
It was drizzling out, a little chilly. I was tired. I needed to get home.
Shower. I needed one badly.