Compulsory Condom otherwise Fiasco (Photo by Dainis Graveris on Unsplash)
To recover from my disappointment with Max, the second round of the Brazilian not having finished convincing me, I set out in search of another play partner on … Tinder and yes! Watch out for the fiasco…
I have a few interesting matches, including Francesco, who looks all in all not too bad, naughty, very direct and who quickly offers me coffee at 9am Thursday morning.
So I get up a little earlier than usual, I go to his house with arms laden with pastries from the super market, I took what I found.
He is waiting for me at the door, he is less engaging than in his photos, he is more bizarre, more puny, in short he attracts me less.
We arrive in his apartment, it’s clean and tidy, he asks me to take off my shoes, I’m going to put them next to his and his roommate’s in the entrance, but he takes them from my hands and go hide them in a corner of the living room. I am surprised, I guess that my coming is probably secret, and that her roommate must not discover my presence if she comes back.
He offers me a coffee, an orange juice, we chat over breakfast, he is nice and becomes more charming over time. The discussion is going well, he put a playlist of Edith Piaf in the background, perhaps thinking to put a favorable atmosphere. Yep … well not too much for me …
Too fast in Besogne
Completely spontaneous and not at all at the right time, he will get on the sofa and offers to join him.
I’m not hot, not yet, I join him but not really motivated.
A few seconds later, he already has his tongue in my mouth. I am not and I let go.
We go to his room, his bed is made and the sheets smell of laundry. I wouldn’t be telling you all this, indeed, if I had been overwhelmed with desire.
But I want to give him a chance, I hope he can do me good, that he will improve, that our bodies will become tame.
More 6 than 9
The atmosphere heats up, the body to body takes more and more, the cream begins to become whipped. But he adds too much sugar and asks for a 69 as one would ask to pass the salt. Let’s get started, it quickly turns into 6 where the one who works is mostly me.
His penis is weird, very long, but twisted and flat, and his glans is huge, it is not a beautiful penis.
Barely a few efforts on my part and he enjoys, leaving me amazed and completely on my hunger !! No but really?
He smiles when he tells me that the first round is over, that the next one is about to start.
Uh? Seriously? You’d better have the second round at the height of my pleasure my little darling.
We cuddle while waiting for his machine to restart. I turn to revive it, the magic of the posterior generally takes effect quickly.
Ouch, it doesn’t seem to work as well as I hoped. “Work on it if you want to have a second round”. And go, it’s off. As much as the first time, I did this with zest, so much there I just want it to finally become hard that we can do something with.
It’s a waste of time, I give up, it swells, it deflates, worse than a béchamel with too much milk, it really doesn’t take.
I lie on my back, I’m about to leave, when it doesn’t want, it doesn’t…
We have never been better served than by ourselves
He asks me to masturbate while he looks at me. Ok, that will already be fun.
I put myself there, my mind goes elsewhere, my fingers strum and it takes me little time to reach a pleasure that little Francesco will never give me.
I replace myself on the back once my pleasure is over.
You should not have said that…
He gets confused with excuses, it never happens to him. Ah well thank you, thank you very much for keeping the semi-soft for me! Ah men, it happens that’s all, it’s not dramatic, it happened, it happens, and it will happen, but stop serving us that it never happens to you. It’s much worse!
He says that he is tired, stressed, in short that he really hopes that I will not hold it against him. In my mind, I already know that I would not see him again, I can see that there is no chemistry between us.
Then he asks me questions about my relationships here, we come to talk about Max, I tell him about the parks. And hallelujah … It band!
Neither one nor two, he puts on the condom, I stand behind him, I’m tired of seeing his sorry eyes and his confused face, I’m going to think of Max.
It starts already, and my fingers do the rest. Then after barely a minute or two he pulls out, and I hear him take off the hood.
Furious, I turn around. I scold him like a child caught at fault, he stammers not feeling anything, tells me that it is that I am beautiful and that suddenly he wants.
It’s too much, I’m already getting dressed. Its a question of confidence.
He looks sheepishly at me, picking up my last things, collecting my shoes, and asking for feedback. I am not tender with him. And when in a half voice, he asks me so sincerely we will meet again, my sharp No, leaves him speechless.
I slam the door behind me.
Francesco = Fiasco!
3 replies on “133… Fiasco, it’s an italian word, right?”
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