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I’m an arrogant son of a bitch, but even I knew Sarah was Adriana Lima-Marko Jaric level too hot for me. The pressure was overwhelming. I had worked this girl for months, first swallowing my pride and accepting a sort of “friend” role in hopes of her swallowing something of mine, then lying in wait as her buffoon of a high school hang-on boyfriend went the way of Old Yeller (not by my hand, though, as I actually had to explain in my testimony to the cops).
The motherfucker plucked her early. Like a scout signing a 14-year-old Cuban, he had her locked up for years before she realized she could sign an A-Rod deal with the Yanks, and by “the Yanks,” I mean the cock of any straight (and probably gay, she is that hot) man on this planet. If not for the death of my anonymity, and subsequently my actual career, I’d post a TFM Babe Of The Day-level spread promoting the luckiest pull of my life and a solid post-shit jerk for you degenerates.
But alas, I do need an income to supplement the riches TFM provides. Trust me (or don’t I don’t really give a fuck), though — I had absolutely no business being with her. Still don’t.
Anyway, she just dropped the high school hang-on and I was hell-bent on dropping her panties. We had always had a flirtatious thing about us, but whenever the drunkenness led to near disaster (for her; jubilation for me) she’d leave me full chubbed on the dance floor with a cock ready to pierce glass and nowhere to stick it. She knew the deal, though, as I was 7th grade-style grinding hard on her ass all night, and she liked it.
So now we’re drunk at our favorite bar and she’s rubbing my pole like an Asian “masseuse” as I grind her with enough friction to light a fire in this basement bar. She turns and I think I’m finally about to kiss her, so I lean in. Denied again.
“Really?” she smirks. I slide my hands down to her ass, tugging her hair slightly before cupping.
“But you’re single now.” She’s basically full on jerking me at this point.
“And I’m not that easy.” She bites my lip and I’m about to fire a load in my pants big enough for a one person bukkake scene.
I flip her back around and make sure she can feel it. We go on playing this teasing shit for what seems like hours (and by teasing I mean me trying to literally pulverize her pussy in plain sight of half the Greek system and being playfully denied) when I’ve finally gotten to a point of humiliation, say to myself “hey man, this is pathetic and rapey,” and step away.
“And where are you going?” she says.
“You know what, Sarah? I’ve had enough of this. You rub my cock like there’s a genie in it, we’ve sexted for months, but we go out, both single, I’m harder than R. Kelly at recess, and nothing ever happens. I can’t take this.”
“So you’re just going to leave?”
“Yeah, honey, with somebody who actually wants me.”
I walk away knowing my next move would be the defining moment. Like George Costanza, I had regained some “hand” and it was my time to play it. I saw her sorority nemesis across the bar being harassed by one of our campus’ best-known rapists. We made eye contact for a moment, and I could tell she was giving me the “please come save me look.” In reality, I was probably just overwhelmingly caught up in a substance-induced mania of arrogance. But I made the move anyway.
I shoo away the mid-tier peasant and buy a round of shots. We’re drowning ourselves in house tequila I’ve claimed to be Patron when Sarah grabs me from behind. I turn and she leans in and bites my lip again.
“Take me home and fuck me then.”
I’m in such an excited state I leave without my credit card. Sprinting away from the bar like it was North Korea, I pray for a quick Uber arrival. My faith in a higher power is restored with an almost instant pick up. We’re in the back of the Toyota dry humping like jackrabbits when she slides my hand up her skirt.
“I want you to feel me.” She’s perfectly wet.
At this point I’m legitimately worried I’m going to explode in my pants when the Uber arrives, its driver laughing as we exit. I told the driver “you’re welcome,” as Sarah’s bare ass in the rearview was nothing like he’d ever seen in Yugoslavia or wherever the fuck he came from. I’m two fingers deep in the elevator when she stops, bends over, and says “how do you want me?”
The elevator bings on arrival and I literally pick her up like a fucking overzealous virgin and carry her, legs wrapped around my waist, to the door. I struggle with the key as my erection provides a never-before-considered impediment to getting the key out of my pocket, but we’re finally in.
We rip each other’s clothes off faster than two Mormons on their wedding night and go at it like a couple of drunk monkeys.
“I want you to fuck my mouth” she says. I’m realizing my life has likely reached its pinnacle moment. I’m straddling this woman I’ve jerked it to for months and am treating her throat like a fucking Fleshlight. I pull it out and start to move towards the real thing when she stops me.
“I’ve never met a man that didn’t want my tits wrapped around his cock first.” I’m in heaven.
I slide back up and she pushes them together. Her nipples are like Push Pops getting slightly longer and harder as I go.
“You want to fuck my pussy?” she has her tongue out. “And then go all over me?” That was it. We’d reached my breaking point. Her tits, her face, her tongue, her dirty talk… It was just too much for me to handle. All of the sudden I feel a sort of convulsion… OH GOD UUUNNGHHHHHHHHH.
I explode, painting her face and tits like I’m Jackson Pollack.
“What the fuck, Siblings?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!!” Apparently I caught an eye or two. Oops. She’s berating me as I continue to convulse as if I’m in anaphylactic shock.
“Are you a fucking virgin??! Get the fuck off of me!” She shoves me to the side as I sit there in a state of confusion and humiliation.
She walks out of the bathroom, fully clothed and cleaned. “Siblings, I’m sorry, but what the fuck?” I sigh.
“Seriously Siblings… All that build up, and that’s what you fucking do? Are you seriously a fucking virgin? I mean, I’ve never had that happen before. Ever.” I finally can formulate a sentence.
“Wait, are you saying it wasn’t good for you?”.