1st date of the year

I should at this point let you know I'd already put up a number of posts here. However for some reason these disappeared without warning or reason, and I'm still none the wiser as to why. The only thing I can think is that I linked to a comedic porn video to exemplify a point. But really? Is this place actually that prudish?

Anyway my point here being that the date I'm about to tell you about happened on January 10th, a few weeks ago now.

I'd been talking to 'O' for a week maybe, she lived East, hated the use of emoticons, was a published writer, and could only meet at the start of the week because her other job kept her busy later in the week.

"I'm an erotic dancer, I hope that doesn't freak you out".

Err.....no, I think I'm pretty much ok with that O.

I should probably tell you that I'm a pervert. Yes, I am a man and we all are to some extent, but I have the sex drive of a teenager which instead of just myself and my computer, I've been lucky enough to indulge with some like minded other people. I don't hold myself up to be challenging the Marquis or Don, but I've met few girls who seem to be as libidinous as me. I've had a threesome with a couple, impromptu quickies in amusing places, and being dominant I've enjoyed a great many things of my choosing. K was one who matched me and who had a more vociferous, or at least, more numerously sated sex life before me (actually, during too which was less than ideal)

I guess maybe I'd put my own drive down to a decade of monogamy and dwindling sex with that person by the end - I had a lot of catching up to do. I also think this informs how I treat women. I love women. I had and have a lot of friends who are girls, I don't view girls just as sexual objects - although I do objectify the women I'm attracted to, but in a good way and not to the detriment of the other reasons I'm attracted to her i.e. her mind. I'm said to be emotionally intelligent and empathetic, enough for it to not surprise me when another girl later tells me that to begin with she thought I could be gay.

So now, I'm kind of like a watered down boyfriend all the time. Sex wise the girl could have her hands tied behind her back, my hand could be pulling her hair, a thumb in her ass as I pound her, gruffly telling her what a dirty slut she is as she watches me in the mirror. But then afterwards, I'm going to be more than happy to have her lie on my chest as I stroke her hair, talk and then spoon till sleep takes us (DISCLAIMER: That's if we get on or this isn't just an arranged fuck and nothing else etc). I don't think that this is that unusual, but still - from what I've been told it's an interesting mix.

Aaaanyway. Rambling again. Back to the date.

So yeah, she's a stripper. I've always found strip clubs a weird little psychological microcosm. I'm talking about the more upmarket ones. Are they places where women are exploited, demeaned and belittled by men? Or are they as much places where women are entirely in control, emancipated, with a sense of power as they disdainfully pluck money from these base men's wallets with aplomb? I love a beautiful, perfectly waxed, spread and presented pussy all up in my face as much as the next man, but I don't understand the appeal of handing crisp £20 note after crisp £20 note over in order to get nothing other than more and more frustrated.

However a woman who is confident in herself, confident in her overt sexuality and revels in using her body and mind to turn a guy on? That. Shit. Is. HOT. So meeting O, a girl with an apparently engaging mind who has a penchant for fucking, outside of the strip club scenario was something I was way into.

We went to Last Days Of Decadence which was shit. Monday night and dead. They were doing DIY and had the main lights up on full FFS (nothing worse than bright ambient light in my book). She was late. So I got a beer and sat reading the paper. She turns up 30 mins later, apologises and I go get some drinks which are overpriced and under-made. A dirty martini for her, an old fashioned for me.

She's not quite as trim as her pictures or profession would have led me to believe, however she's pretty and in shape. She's wearing a dark floral print dress, her hair is loose, long and brown (I love brunettes). Her eyes are green mottled with flecks of brown and her make up sparse, however applied with a hand practiced enough so that what is there has more of an effect than it should. We talk about her favourite authors, her style of writing, what her novel is about and the sort of characterisation she favours. Which gave me an answer to something I'd wondered before too. When you're stripping, as well as a different name, do you also affect a whole different identity? As much for fun as self preservation. Turns out that for O at least, yes you do. And being a creative mind, she had some hilariously developed ones, girls with backstories, foibles, relations, all sorts. I guess in some ways being a stripper offers an aspiring writer the chance to road test and develop some of her characters to see how believable and engaging they are (albeit as the guy stares at your tits and agrees/laughs with everything you have to say).

I've bought a couple of drinks now and O goes to the bar to get the next. She comes back with some drinks and tells me she's forgotten to bring out enough money. Which is pretty fucking cheeky (SPOILER ALERT: She had money for a cab home in the morning though). I can't help but feel her habits of not having to dip her hand into her purse on a night out have seeped into her day to day. But anyway.

Having said that, she tells me she's going to go have a cigarette. She slowly applies lip gloss and makes it the sexiest thing in the world before standing up and vamping her way to the door, knowing full well what she's doing. It has it's desired effect. I've pretty much forgotten any monetary issues (going back to my earlier question of whether it's men or women in control there - I think you have your answer).

The booze and liberal conversation is also having it's effect and when she comes back I decide fuck it, I'm going to kiss her. I see no point in being backwards about this kind of thing. You're both there to get on and at some point fuck, if not, why the hell are you there? If she tells you you've got the wrong idea then hey, shit happens. So a pause in conversation presents itself and I lean in, I kiss her softly and she kisses me back, just lips for a few seconds and then I leave it at that - I may be forward but I'm not going to search for cavities with my tongue like a teenager. Not at this stage anyway. But it's on.

We go on to a few other bars, drinking cocktails, shots and generally getting wasted. It's after midnight now and I suggest we head back to mine for a drink. We get a taxi and in the back she says "I'm not going to sleep with you you know?" to which all I could say was something like "Damn, and there I was hoping to get all these drinks paid back with demeaning sexual acts". She laughs and we resume kissing.

Back at mine I open a bottle of red, take her to my room and put a record on. Things are of course going particularly well. I'm aware that yes, I do have in my room a girl who is pretty and also a stripper. I'm also aware that most men who have been in my situation and armed with this knowledge are probably over eager - so I'm not intending to add to their number. So we're on my bed kissing, I'm lying next to her, verging on top of her. My kisses are teasing, soft, but laden with sexual intent. One hand is in her hair, the other is wandering over her curves, lightly touching her, circling her nipples, as her legs open my hand runs up and down the inside of her thigh, getting closer and closer to the heat I can actually feel from between them, before slowly drawing my hand between her legs, over her stomach and pulling back.

We'd already spoken about power and control between the sexes. Societally, in the strip club and sexually. So I knew that my like of being in control and taking the reins was happily complimented in hers to yield. I asked her to pass me my drink. She rolled over, stood up and passed it to me - the lamp on the floor was kind of backlighting her dress, I can see the shape of her legs, the light accentuating her curves. She looked hot.

"Wait, stay standing there. You look hot"

Most girls would probably feel self conscious in this situation, especially on a first date. I guessed correctly that she of course wouldn't. She straightened up, moved her weight onto one leg and with her hands on the back of her hips so her breasts stood out, did as I asked.

"Now take that dress off for me"

Her eyes narrowed as she smiled at me questioningly. I took another sip of my drink. Pausing, then holding her eyes with a hungry stare,

"I asked you to take your dress off..."

Moving over and placing my drink on the floor

"...I won't ask again"

Smiling she reaches back, unzips her dress and in one movement lifts the flimsy material over her head to reveal a black bra, a mix of lace and viscose, and french knickers through which I could see her perfectly trimmed pubic hair leading down to what I couldn't wait to taste.

Now I'd not normally be this forward on a first date, but when armed with the knowledge that she likes a man to be a man and is obviously body confident it just made sense at the time. Plus, let's be honest - I was pretty drunk.

I stand up and pulling her into me by her ass, kiss her hard. Lifting her up I turn round with her and lower her to the bed, lie in between her legs and grind my cock into her as she pulls my mouth onto hers and thrusts up to meet my cock. Subtlety is a forgotten word at this point, we're both in the heat of the moment - I reach round and unclip her bra, my hands cup her tits as I hungrily kiss and suck her nipples. With my hands still on her breasts I begin to kiss my way down her body, across her soft stomach, my tongue licking her naval which makes her jolt. She's still lying sideways along my bed and I've slipped off the bed now onto my knees - I pull her body towards me, my hands opening her legs wide and softly again now I kiss the sensitive insides of her thighs from one to the other, avoiding what the see through material is covering in the middle but blowing onto her as I do. My tongue now licks right at the top of the inside of her thighs, her breathing is getting heavier and my cock is throbbing. I stop. She opens her eyes and looks down at me as I push her legs up and wide. I smile a dirty smile and for the first time, lick all the way from her ass to her clit which I tongue and breathe hot breath heavily onto through her now wet knickers.

(At this stage I feel it appropriate to tell you that I LOVE giving head. I cannot understand those men who don't. Or who can't. It's one of the hottest things to be that intimate with a girls pussy. Giving pleasure is almost as good as getting for me, whilst I'm dominant, that doesn't mean selfish - in fact quite the opposite. Being in control of a girl's pleasure, knowing that you're the one who is making her breath like that, say the filth that she is, thrash around and spasm like that - it's hot. If I had a really hot fuck buddy who was local to me, if she wanted me to come over, spend 20 minutes going down on her, teasing and playing with her till she came before leaving straight away after? I'd be into it. The idea of a girl I'm into pushing me back and sitting her pussy on my face just like that is a massive turn on.)

I pull her knickers down unceremoniously and with a broad flat tongue I again lick from her ass slowly up to her clit. She's really wet and her clit is pleasingly poking out a little now so I pay it the attention it's looking for. First with a soft tongue circling it slowly, then with just the tip barely touching her I flick my tongue over it hard and fast, grazing it. I reach up to her tits and as I start to lick her more directly, my fingers roll her erect nipples between them. She's moaning now, her pants and involuntary 'fucks' are only turning me on more. One finger is circling the outside of her pussy lips, dipping inside her and pulling back, the other hand is now exposing her clit more for me to flick with my tongue, a thumb rubbing just above her clit as I push my finger into her and rhythmically start to fuck her. I reach for her G-Spot. In my experience (and it's only mine) I'd say that maybe 30% of women enjoy this, for the rest it's either too sensitive, doesn't seem to do anything or makes them feel like they need to pee or something. O was in the 30%. I'm breathing hard myself now, I'm licking like an epileptic thirsty cat, my fingers fucking her hard and she starts babbling, gripping my sheets, she's going to cum.

I stop.

"You don't get to cum yet."

I kiss her cunt, and licking slowly up and down her sodden lips and clit I say to her,

"You'll cum when I say you can you understand?"

I punctuate this by pressing harder onto her G-Spot. She bites her bottom lip and almost looking like she's in pain from the effect it's having nods quickly. I move up and kiss her slowly then stand up in front of her and undo my belt.

She moves forward and sitting on the side of my bed kisses my chest and abs slowly with a wet open mouth as she undoes my trousers and begins to massage me through my boxers. Looking intently at what she's about to unveil, she pulls the waistband of them out and over me, pulling them down along with my trousers. My cock springs up and hits her in the chin.

It's a moment of reality in amongst being lost in sex and I like it. We laugh and the atmosphere is broken for a second, but in a good way. It's almost as though that bit of humour has allowed the dynamic to change too. She gets down on her knees, takes my rock hard cock in her hand and starts to kiss the tip of my cock whilst she looks deep into my eyes and asks if I like her being my slut. She's in control now. I nod. She pulls back on my cock and takes me into her mouth, fucking me with it a few times. Licking her hands she starts to wank me, one hand working my cock, the other rubbing and cupping my balls - looking up into my eyes with faux innocence she asks,

"Are you going to fuck me hard with this?"

She circles her tongue around the head, sucks me and when she pulls back, leaves a trail of saliva from the tip of my cock to her bottom lip.

"I'm so fucking wet for you, are you going to pound my pussy hard all night?"

My response is a garbled noise and frantic nod, her hands and mouth have stolen any eloquence or smart quips that may have sounded cool here, I have a monosyllabic mind, and that one word is "FUUUUUCK".

Ok.

At this point I feel that the break of me having to get a condom, almost falling over myself to get it on as she lay back playing with herself is a good point to stop with the detailed descriptions. I can't help but feel anyone reading could be bored, plus this blog could get a little repetitive (so long as girls continue to want to fuck me of course).

However I will say one more thing about our night together and that's the first time she came.

I was on top of her, her legs pressed up to her chest - I'm sweating from pounding her so hard and she's rubbing her clit frantically. She's getting louder and louder (thankfully my housemates were out), and I can feel she's getting wetter and wetter it seems too. And then she cums. And I feel a warmth around my pubic hair. She's really seeming to enjoy it and there's that warmth again. Then I twig. She's a squirter. Now I've never experienced this before, but I've got to say it's fucking hot. It's messy, she's not able to control herself as she's lost in her orgasm and it just seems like pure SEX. The only downside was that I had to get a towel to sleep on, she came a lot throughout the night.

So as my first date for 2011 goes, it was a good one. Not all girls will be quite so obliging I know, and in fairness, I'd not expect them to be either. Building your sexual palette together is an important thing too, it's not all 'in at the deep end'. Meeting a girl who isn't as experienced but willing to try things is as much of a turn on as someone who has been there, done it and is only too happy and able to do it again, and again, and again...

The next day and even falling asleep afterwards, I actually felt a bit empty, it all felt a little bit meaningless. It's really quite annoying. I used to do this and it was all positive, all fun, no one got hurt, everyone knew what was going on and the next day was just spent replaying parts in my head at my desk. Not having meaning or an emotional connection meant it felt a little meaningless and left me a bit sad. (I'm talking like a teenage girl I know). Even though I know it's a good thing that we're not going out now, even though I know that she's not the girl she seemed to be or who cares about me, I still think about K. Every day. I still miss her.

I think I'm going to be single for a while. My heart is still bruised.

But then on the bright side it's not just my heart. My cock was pretty sore the next day from the workout it got too. So it's not all bad really.

Thanks O, you were fun x