Men, and seemingly some boys, seem to love talking a big game when it comes to being kinky; I have found many a man who thinks he is into being sexually adventurous. The problem inlays that even when they break out the toys, seldom do they really know what to do with them. Tricks are not for kids; and Media Guy was most definitely a child.
I climbed the narrow, steep stairs up to the second floor loft in Chelsea. Media Guy had not lied; his apartment was vast. I sat perched on the edge of a bar stool in the kitchen, taking a long drag of my cigarette. He was expertly mixing a vodka martini and I told him to make it dirty.
He was handsome and my cocktail was delicious but I was getting tired of the chitchat and polite niceties. I was there for one reason and one reason only. I wanted to play.
Walking across the room I let the silk straps of my dress fall down my tanned shoulders. The sound of my heels against the floor as I entered his bedroom were like the hand of a clock counting down the minutes. Media Guy followed me, like a child hanging on my every move.
He placed his hand on the back of my neck and kissed my shoulders. I grabbed his wrist and threw him onto the bed. “Now, where are those hand cuffs you mention?”
Media Guy reached into a drawer and pulled out some pathetic contraption that resembled what one would buy as a gag gift, if one were that kind of person. “Right,” I gawked at the ‘cuffs’.
Bored and slightly disappointed, I crawled onto the bed; I just wanted to be fucked. He slid his hands up my skirt and over my thighs. He pulled off my dress and devoured my body. Media Guy needed to be put in his place. I straddled him and took him hard until he was about to lose his mind. Just as he was about to go over the edge I’d stop, letting out a slight laugh.
I let myself cum while still on top and then rolled over onto my back, slightly breathless. He looked pleased even though I had done most of the work. I could tell he was waiting to get his, especially after the torturous teasing.
Feeling quite ‘letdown’ from all his talk and the very little action I decided to call it a night. I slid back into my dress, leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “It was a pleasure darling,” I whispered in his and then headed for the door.
The look of shock/disappointment was beyond comical. I hailed a taxi and laughed to myself. Will not be doing that again anytime soon! Any man that pulls out handcuffs like those is most definitely not the man for me.
