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Casual Sex Story

A few weekends ago, my friends and I decided to hang out at TGI on Fridays for fun because, what the fuck? It's Friday every night there, but this was a REAL Friday night, like in Alaska or somewhere else. Anyway, we're all like a couple of Skinny Blueberry Margaritas busting each other's balls when a lone cougar sneaks up on me at the bar and says, "Buy me a mango lemonade?" I look at my brothers who ask me : "What are you waiting for?" Look, I tell her, "How about a double?" And I'm not complaining, she puts her hand right on my balls, under the bar, and says, "Have a threesome." Mine Friends immediately recognize the opportunity in front of us, pat me on the shoulder and say: “We're going to Chumley, maybe we'll see each other there”; I know for a fact that the only place I'm flying is DickThrob Airlines Flight 69 to Vagina Burg, I'm going to BANGTHIS FIFTY TO SIX YEAR OLD WOMAN ACHUSETTS.

I start spitting at her and she says, “Shut up and come to me.” I close the tab faster than a 23-year-old girl who gave up her fashion blog. We get into her Isuzu Amigo, get out of the car and return to her apartment. As soon as we got close to the door she started jerking me off — and her grip is incredible. It's kind of tight, but not too tight, like she knows exactly how much pressure to apply before the pain sets in, and her grip is reversed with the thumb up. I ignore the ecstasy for a moment and look down to see Picasso painting a masterpiece and she whispers, "I have a mild form of paralysis."

Oh my God. I knew that genetics had to play a role in developing such talent. Then she goes downstairs and the handjob I thought couldn't be topped is quickly forgotten as she gives me the greatest nobber a man has ever seen. It felt like my cock was covered in peanut butter and submerged in a koi pond. Somehow she bit into a thousand different areas at once and then... and then... the most incredible feeling. I look down and for a moment I'm completely afraid. Her hair is on the floor. I repeat: her hair was on the floor. It was a wig. Wig! And she rubs the underside of my balls against the top of her stubble, which looks really cool when you run your hand over it, but imagine it if you were me. Crazy. My mind couldn't process it. Nothing was important. This feeling destroyed the physical world around me. I was just a beam of energy floating in infinity. This was officially the greatest night of my life. And we've only just begun.

Then she said she wanted to make things interesting, so she disappeared for about half an hour. All the while I was working hard on the copy of “Jet” that she tossed to me as she left the room. She comes back in a full cat costume...not just a "Broadway Cats" costume like in real life - – Fur applied with stage makeup glue and cat-eye contact lenses on the eyes. She started purring, jumped on the table and hit me with her tail. It is very hot. And as if that wasn't enough, she goes into her closet and puts on her police uniform over the cat suit. I have to say this was the sweet spot for me. Police cat. Officer mustache. Like Richard Scarry's sexy character. And believe me when I say this; She didn't just bathe her tongue. No sir. I had the right to stay upright.

What followed can only be described as breathtaking. She was rough but gentle, throwing me around like a rag doll and choking me. That's exactly how I imagine the prince having sex: He scurries around the bed like it's a moonshot, fighting to breathe through tears, crying with relief and yet demanding more. At some point, when I think there's nothing more I can do, she grabs the replica wand she bought in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, points at my manhood and screams, "Accio erection!" What happened next brought Viagra and Cialis out of business forever. The blood flowed to my cock so quickly you'd have thought someone was handing out free iPhones down there. “If your erection lasts longer than four hours, see your doctor.” What if it stays this way for the rest of your life? We did EVERY pose: helicopter, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, cowboy, cow, doggie, petting zoo (no sex, just petting and feeding each other), child's pose, jazz hands, sweater style with pumpkin spice on the side...; They call it. A few hours later, when we finished, she wrapped me in a blanket and held me while I tried to breathe. Then she put me to bed.

"Get dressed. I want to get out of here," he said.she said and went into the bathroom: "I'm going to call the hairy man now and then I want to get myself something to eat." I could only nod in agreement. I was pleased. Then I looked at the sheets. So much blood. Was it mine or hers? Is it important? No. It was the same. It was ours.

As we walked out and into the darkness, it felt like it was early morning - it was 4 or 5 a.m. and the spring dew glistened in the streetlights. The taxis called again, the newsagents swept away the night's rubbish and in my immune phase of clarity I felt the pain of life and the meaning of each moment. My body felt like it barely contained anything inside me, and the brevity of my existence was both heartbreaking and inspiring - the paradox of death inspiring life. At that moment it was just me and her. The light touch of the hair on the back of her knuckles, the sound of her gurgling breath gurgling through a little mucus, and all my uncertainty is just a whisper of memory. She looked at me with her cat-like contact eyes that penetrated my soul and said just one word:“Ribs?”

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