Ah, my tormentor from the comments section, he with the acerbic things to say, the one, the only Chizzie has finally written something, 🙂 something real not fiction, that he wants to share with all you lovely brethren. Read below and enjoy. Be warned, it has a message at the end of it all that we should all take to heart. 🙂
It was intense lust at first Facebook request. He wasn’t exactly good looking, but he was tall, huge and dark. The first moment I saw his picture, I knew I wanted to be underneath him for hours. So I stalked him on Facebook, sent him a Facebook request and gathered as much information on him as I could. What little information I had looked really promising. He had a good job, a nice car, was in his mid 30s (how I like them), lived alone and, as I was told, had a very big penis.
I was excited; my mind was filled with fantasies of us entwined in bed, rolling between the sheets, of me resting my head on those broad shoulders of his. But as the days gradually turned to weeks and my Facebook request still remained pending, I figured all hope was lost, and had just started moving on with my life – on to the next penis, as I like to say. Then one day, weeks after, I woke up to see that he had not only finally accepted my request but had gone on to like several of my pictures. Surely this was a good sign.
I went straight to it, my intentions were thinly veiled. He knew I wanted to have intercourse with him, and soon we exchanged pins.
However I noticed there was something different about our conversations. We never talked about sex, at least not in such blatant terms. He was more concerned with how I was doing. My perils of unemployment (I’ll never forget the excitement in his voice when I told him I had finally found a job). You know, stuff like that. Any mention of sex was done subtly. In fact, we referred to sex in figures of speech and innuendos.
I didn’t understand this. This was new to me. He hadn’t asked for a picture of my bum (which I am always glad to share), nor what I liked done in bed. Nothing. Was I not sexually attractive enough? Was I going to be one of those Bottoms that were good to have as friends and not as sex partners. Maybe he really wasn’t that into me.
One day, he invited me over to his place to spend the night. This is it, I thought. I prepared meticulously. Starved myself to avoid any gravy situation. Douched repeatedly until my bum was sore. Shaved my bugaina till it was as hairless as a baby’s.
I arrived at his place quite late in the evening. I saw a quick smile grace his lips when he saw me. I took this as a good sign. He was huge and imposing; I played calm, trying not to be so obvious. In my mind, I wanted him to brutally have his way with me.
His apartment was impressive. He had such impeccable taste. I sat down next to him on his large comfortable bed. He was taking a phone call at this point and my back was to him. Then I felt his hand trailing across my spine, slowly with a casual air of seduction. I began to have goosebumps. My nipples hardened. Was this it? When he hung up the phone, would he pounce on me and viciously penetrate me?
At long last, he ended the call and I turned to face him. He had a bulge jutting hard against his zipper. I was about to reach down for it when he said, “Tell me a bit about you.”
Er, ok. I thought to myself, Was this an interview? Where was the kissing, the ass grabbing, the nipple sucking I had become accustomed to?
Anyways, so we got to talking. Soon I got bored and decided to make the first move, something highly unprecedented, because I was so used to the Top initiating sex. He had taken off his shirt by now, so I lay anchored against his broad shoulders, my face next to his, my hand trailing the outline of his chest. He held me closer to him. And that was it. We kept talking!
What was going on? I thought. Finally, I decided to apply more drastic measures. I reached down to his boxers and felt his dick. I gasped. It was so hard. So hard and huge. It barely fit my hand.
Ok, so here was a huge and erect man, clearly aroused – and all he wanted to do was talk? I was so confused. Instinctively, I reached for his dick and began to suck it.
And then here came the shocker. He reached down, pulled me gently away from him, and told me to stop, that all he wanted me to do was lie down next to him.
I was seriously taken aback. I couldn’t hide my disapproval any more. Here I was, my bum exposed, a sexually attractive light-skinned, thick and juicy Bottom, and all he wanted to do was talk? All he wanted me to do was lie next to him? I’m short-tempered, and I lashed out. Was it me, I asked. Was I so repulsive? What was going on?
He said he didn’t want to have sex; he just wanted us to cuddle and talk. I found that highly absurd for a Top. Why would I jump a gazillion buses to come to his place to cuddle and talk? I mumbled something about regretting ever coming to his place and how I’d rather be home. And with that, his countenance soured, and we both went to bed.
The next morning, we exchanged curt Good Mornings, and I left his place, pompously declining his offer to assist me with transportation. When I arrived home, he had left me quite a number of messages. They were laced with disappointment. Disappointment at how much I wanted sex, so badly, when he really just wanted us to talk. He explained that sex to him was more than just an act, he had to genuinely know who he “was putting his dick into” and that everything didn’t really have to be about sex. It was something he thought I would understand.
I asked if he wanted to see me again. He left my message unread and never replied.
I was surprised, more so at myself. When had I become this sexualized sex monster? I had become so used to the idea of sex being a platform to ascertain a guy’s desire for me that I quickly rebuffed the attempt of someone genuinely getting to know me first before becoming physical.
I think I speak for many people when I say, sometimes we define our self worth with just how quick a guy wants to hump us. I questioned myself and my esteem when I saw that I wasn’t being propositioned sex so quickly. I failed to see that someone saw me as more than just a sex thing but a person who he had a genuine interest for. The idea of a guy seeing me as more than a means to obtain an orgasm seemed foreign to me, and I took it as rejection and repulsion. It might have not worked out with him, but he gave me a lot to think about. He had me revaluating my self-worth.
I’ve decided to change the way I portray myself. No longer will I see myself as a light skinned Bottom with a fat ass, but rather as a light skinned Bottom with a fat ass who has a lot to offer a man and who deserves getting to know first!
Written by Chizzie
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