Just Sex
Sometimes, I need… just sex. I don’t need words, dinner, small talk, dates, or anything like that; I just need to get fucked. That was definitely my mood last night, so when a certain someone send a text, asking if they could come over, I said yes with only the tiniest moment of hesitation.
The night of just sex
“Can I come over tonight?” One Ball asked.
I groaned as I read his message. I wasn’t really in the mood for it, to be honest. I was a little grumpy, pining over Big Love, and stressed about work, so the last thing I needed was OB floating around the house, demanding sex, then not coming.
(Yes, it’s still a thing. Yes, it’s still bugging me. Can you tell?)
I was in the mood for one thing, though: getting well and truly fucked.
“Yes,” I replied.
Just that. Yes. No more, no less.
There were no niceties when he turned up. No kisses on the cheek. No conversation. Not even a hug. He looked a little startled, but it’s better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission, right? (Absolutely not, but let’s go with that for right now.)
Our kisses were frenzied and passionate within two minutes of him closing the front door. Another two minutes later his clothes were off, dropped all over the stairs. Two minutes after that I’d shed my clothes, too.
I felt brave. Bold. Empowered. Angry, even. I took the lead without caring what he thought, and pushed him on the bed like he was just one of my sex toys. That’s all he was to me. That’s all I needed from him.
He forced his fingers inside me first. First one, then adding a second. Rough. Frenzied. A little violent. Like he knew what I needed without me having to say it. It had been a while since I’d last come, so I knew it wouldn’t take long – but even I was surprised by how quickly those climaxes snuck up on me. Two, in quick succession, flooding all over his hand.
He tried to go down on me after that, but I wasn’t having it. I didn’t want that. I wanted to ride his dick… I needed to ride his dick.
Then, he tried to tie me up with the ropes on my bed that I’d not hidden as well as I’d thought.
“No,” I said sternly. He was pissing me off. “Just fucking lie down.”
OB shook his head. “No, you fucking lie down.”
Who knew that he had it in him?!
I did as I was told, but only because I was worried about getting no dick in defying him. He continued to tease me, pissing me off more and more, holding my hands above my head and just kissing me, just touching my slit with his dick, getting just close enough before moving further away.
“Just fuck me!” I’m not one to beg, but I’d have dropped to my knees and begged for his dick in that moment.
To my utter relief he did just that: forcing himself inside me to the hilt, then staying there for a second, before pulling all the way out, then repeating the cycle all over again. A groan fell out of my mouth. It hurt a little, but it felt so damn good.
He fucked me like that all over the bed, the banister, the desk, and across the floor. Not even the threat of carpet burns could stop us. We fucked for what felt like hours.
One Ball didn’t come. Again.
“I need to admit something to you,” he said, as we took a breather. “I stopped myself from coming about a minute into fucking you, and now I can’t get it back.”
I wasn’t really sure what to say, so I went with: “Oh, that’s okay! Just so you know, though, once I’ve come, you can come.”
I think he felt a little embarrassed, so we spooned on the bed for a while – not talking, not fucking, just being close to each other… until I did that little butt nudge, at which point he slid inside me once again.
I’m absolutely delighted to tell you that he came, hard, inside me, within minutes.
It was fucking glorious.
So much love to you for reading my blog today! 🖤
You can read all about One Ball’s story, from start to finish, right here.
Why not check out some of the other content here on NotSoSexintheCity while you’re here?
