U is for Ultrahot (yes it’s really a word) for my A to Z Challenge. This man I experienced a lot of firsts with, and he has to have been the hottest I had ever had sex with (if we’re going by society’s standards – he didn’t turn me on physically the most out of every body.)
He was pretty. His photos were of a body that was incredibly sculpted, his smile friendly. He had light eyes and hair. He contacted me within minutes of my new dating profile that my sister had helped me create for “slutfest” – as she called it. In my profile, were a lot of lingerie and me in a bed type pictures so people didn’t get the wrong idea. The tagline and profile was a mixture of corny and pretty direct – I would have never written it myself, but with sis A at the helm of the keyboard, my inner most slut was polished and put on online display.
If he would have contacted me later, I wouldn’t have responded, as his message was generic. The first few guys had the advantage in that I had zero expectations towards communication. And the amount of communication I received in being so direct in just wanting sex was staggering.
We exchanged messages, and then kik (which I created because he suggested it). He was respectful, left openings in the conversations, but didn’t come across as aggressive or desperate.
We met at my place, the place I went back to to pack up the remainder of what I could gather in the home my husband and I had shared – all the way across country (this time I flew back). It was still in the same week my husband had turned me away, and I figured that I needed to empty the house belongings before I looked for a job since I couldn’t guarantee my husband would help me move later. (He did offer to help in about 2 months, but that was no guarantee with two people divorcing.)
I stuck out a hand and introduced myself at the door – how does one make an introduction to an online hookup…a kiss, a hug, a handshake? He was my first ever hookup in such a manner. I asked if he wanted to go into the bedroom; he smiled and said yes, eyes widened in surprise at my directness, but he was there for one reason only and I didn’t want to engage in small talk – I was still crying daily and the smallest things set me off.
I hopped up on the bed and began undressing, he complained he was bloated before removing his clothes. I laughed at his self consciousness as I admired the incredibly gorgeous body that was being revealed. He sat next to me on my big bed, and leaned forward to kiss me. I pushed him back so he was laying on the bed and kissed his neck. He gripped my hair and pulled me onto my back.
He hands were often forceful around my throat or in my hair, an unusual move for someone new who had zero discussion of my comfort with kink. He tried to penetrate me without a condom, even though I stated condoms were to be used before he even arrived. I kicked out from under him and reminded him of the condoms.
He had a hard time staying hard but we were certainly all over the bed when he was erect. I was on top. He was top. He pulled out, put his face down and spit between my legs – the first ever to spit on me and one I tried to not laugh at – it seemed so porn-like; I disliked it but said nothing. He rolled me over for doggy style, where he almost spanked me but instead his hand came down hesitantly, softly down upon my ass cheek; again the hesitation surprised me considering that I found a hand around my throat more risky than a spanking.
Then I was back on top. I marveled at his strength, couldn’t keep my eyes off of his arms as he picked me up and fucked me standing, lifting me up and down with such an ease. After some time, I was laid back on the edge of the bed.
Again with the spitting – so strange to me, lube is far more effective if we needed it (and I almost never need it) and it was almost a show with its line of slow spit. Too much porn?
Almost face slapped, and just like his spanking, his hand came down softly on my cheek, the movement tentative. Then he told me to “spit on it, jerk me off,”. Apparently it was my turn to spit, but I just couldn’t do it – I don’t spit for starters. I gave him head instead until he took control right before he came and stroked himself furiously. He came in my face and down my body. The first man to ever do it and an experience I could have done without. It felt a bit rude and a day afterwards (when he contacted me) I recommended he ask someone first before gushing over their face.
Too much porn? I thought that far too often with this man.
He suggested a shower afterwards, complained his butt was big (it was gorgeous like the rest of him), and then asked so many questions about me that I had no inclination to share but didn’t want to be rude. He was sweet and respectful, soft spoken in contrast to his sexual dominance. He laid in the middle of the bed and reached out for me, not necessarily to cuddle but just to be near. I stroked his chest and felt the prickly shaved hairs, thought what a shame – I prefer a hairy chest.
It was not a bad first encounter for a hookup. I liked his dominance – an unknown factor, though some discussion would have been nice. When he left hours later, he was expressed more self consciousness – this time of his hair. I joked he was pretty, that he was slightly obsessed with how he looked.
He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and I shut the door after him, locking it.
*As a follow up, we kept in contact a good month after the fact; he would occasionally begin contact, and I genuinely liked what little I knew of him, though I kept the conversations short.