Riley looks up at me from between my legs, her hair pulled back like a sexy Samurai, the tip of my hard cock resting gently on her bottom lip. She continues to stare at me while slowly taking the head into her mouth, rocking her head back and forth slightly, creating a soft in-out motion that is really fucking pleasing. I decide that it’s the hottest blowjob in recent memory due to the combination of eyes and pacing and tell her it’s video worthy. My comment goes unnoticed or ignored. I’m guessing the latter. Riley pulls back and tells me that she could do this all day and i say ‘uh, ok?’, as if any other answer is an option. As she’s looking up i comment that her tits look bigger than the last time we fucked and ask her if she was knocked up at some point during that time and got to keep the pregnancy tits. She rolls her eyes, goes back to work and makes her way down to the underside of my balls and starts licking while stroking my cock with her right hand. My reaction to the balls thing is apparently a bit new for her and she laughs or squeals a bit and says i’m fun. If this is fun for her then i’m about to become the Delta Tau Chi toga party from Animal House.
There’s nothing better than good sex. But bad sex?
A peanut butter and jelly sandwich is better than bad sex.
She was always just kinda there - a friend of friends, hanging around with the crew. Nice enough, but meek and not initially captivating; adequately cute in a tomboy pixie, always the bridesmaid never the bride kind of way. She had a thing for me that was surely not reciprocated, or so I thought. We partook in the usual slate of post-college pre-job activities, including pot luck dinners, cheap red wine, marijuana cigarettes and mining a Bob Marley box set for the choice nugs. This usually involved our full group, but over several months slowly devolved into a group of two.
I started to really enjoy her company, but it never escalated to anything more intimate than a shared joint. The chill environment allowed her to be a little more open, and we had some engaging conversations about past relationships, future plans and the dismal state of pop music (Savage Garden and NSYNC were charting at the time). Perhaps i should have seen it coming, but honestly thought we were on the same platonic page.
I arrived at her apartment one evening and was promptly handed a card. It wasn’t a typical card-giving occasion, but i was mischievously instructed to open it. The front of the card contained cartoons with cute captions referring to new best buds, and the inside was completely blank save for one handwritten line - “I want to fuck you. Now.” I had just been propositioned via a sex card.