Monday, May 22, 2017

The Man Who Had It All

This is not one of my old posts, but one by Pervertically Virtuous
In the process of recovering my own old posts via email I discovered some of hers. Like me, her old accounts have been terminated, and she seems to have disappeared from the internet. This is a damn shame since I consider her one of the best sex bloggers I've ever had the chance to read and follow. I'm reposting her old posts as a historical archive, and if she ever returns to blogging I'm happy to hand them back to her.
To be clear: the copyright on this work is hers, and remains with her - I didn't write it and I make no claim to it. 

(FYI: all links in this post are good)

Pervertically Virtuous posted: "After the exhilarating dentist chair/nitrous oxide face-fucking episode, Karlo and I walked over to a club nearby. Partying almost exclusively in the Burner scene for the last 3 years, I've stopped going to other electronic music events, and it was nice t"

A goodbye blowjob, instead of a goodbye kiss.

recovered post by Pervertically Virtuous

The Man Who Had It All

by Pervertically Virtuous
After the exhilarating dentist chair/nitrous oxide face-fucking episode, Karlo and I walked over to a club nearby. Partying almost exclusively in the Burner scene for the last 3 years, I've stopped going to other electronic music events, and it was nice to do something different. It was dark, the music wasn't too pumping, and my friends weren't there yet, so Karlo and I hung out together, danced, and made out. We contemplated whether anyone would notice if we fucked right there on the dance floor. We did another bump of cocaine and swallowed more molly.

In hindsight, both were a bad idea, the molly in particular. Cocaine is great for dancing and socializing, but it doesn't make me very sexual; luckily its effects subside after an hour. Molly does make me sexual and sensual, but makes it really hard to cum; and unfortunately, its effect lasts for hours... In fact, the whole dance party before the sex was unnecessary – that night was about sex, not about partying, and we should've just gone straight home and fucked for hours. Without drugs. But oh well. The evening was still pretty amazing.

A bunch of my Burner friends showed up soon. This will be Karlo's first year at Burning Man, so he had a million questions about it to ask everyone. We chatted, danced, and around 3 AM politely declined all invites to the after party and snuck out. Once back at his place, we did more molly and then started the delightfully slow, long process of finally getting to the fucking part.

We made out in the kitchen. We made out on the living room sofa. We took each other's clothes off, sat across from each other on the sofa, and watched each other masturbate. We admired each other's bodies. Snapped a couple of photos. Made out some more. He was a great kisser.

More so, he was a great lover. He had said earlier that his motto with women was: 'I might never see you again after this, but while we're together, you're the center of my universe and I will treat you like a queen.' I'm the same way and I really like it when men share that philosophy, because it really makes for a spectacular experience.

By the time we finally took it to the bedroom, I was so ready to be entered, my pussy was aching for his big cock... When he slid his monster inside me, I was trembling. I'd been waiting for it for so long, I was loving the slow, sensual build-up for something that was going to be a long, hard, raunchy night.

He filled me up so nicely, like I haven't been filled up in a while... I was hungry for his manhood, I wanted it in me again and again so badly that the first time around I wouldn't let him come. I didn't know if he'd be able to get another erection, so each time he came close to orgasm I would push him off of me, tell him to slow down, to breathe, to hold off. He listened.

After 4 or 5 edgings, I realized I wasn't anywhere near coming. I had too much molly in my system to climax. I was incredibly horny, and wanted more and more, but just couldn't climax. So I let him come. He pulled the condom off and covered my face with his cum. He couldn't believe he managed to hold it off so many times, said he never did that. And I soon realized why: He didn't need to.

Because only a few short minutes later, his cock was back up and ready for more action. He fucked me for about 10-15 minutes and came again. And then again, and again. Four times in the 2-3 hours that I managed to keep him awake. Ah, that was the perfect kind of lover for me: I prefer many shorter fucks over the course of the evening than one very long fuck.

I gave up on trying to come myself that evening – I knew I'd get my orgasms in the morning when the drugs were out of my body – and just enjoyed his gorgeous body on mine, his enormous dick inside my pussy and mouth, and... his continual dirty talk.

Because, oh boy, could this man dirty talk! I couldn't believe the amount of filth that was spilled out of his mouth during those few hours - it was like a soundtrack that just went along with having sex with him. I'm usually not a big fan of dirty talk – mostly because it often sounds silly and repetitive, reminds me of bad, fake porn. And I'm not a big dirty talker myself – mostly because I'm just not that creative to come up with that many sexy, dirty things to say. But Karlo was really good at it. He described in detail everything that was happening, everything I was doing to him, everything he was doing to me, everything he wanted to and was going to do to me... It wasn't silly and repetitive, it was hot. He was so good at it, he inspired me to spout some filth myself. And it turned me on. I should record him next time, heh.

Around 6.30 AM, Karlo passed out. I wanted more, but he was spent, and there was not much to do but try to fall asleep. Sleeping with someone you don't know can be tricky, but he was easy and nice to even sleep with: he spooned, but not too tightly, without trying to suffocate me. Ah, this man was almost perfect.

We woke up around noon the next day. He had to meet his whole family for Mother's Day, and I was meeting my friends at the after-after party. But we took 3 long hours to get out of the house. We started with a fuck. I was barely conscious when he flipped me on my stomach and fucked me from behind. My pussy was sore and swollen from all the friction the night before, and his big cock felt even bigger – my pussy was so tight, he barely had room to slide it in. With the drugs completely out of my system by then, I could come and come and come. The fuck didn't last long enough to make it up for all the missed orgasms night before, but it was great to climax a few times after all that teasing.

He made us espresso and we enjoyed the sunny day out on his balcony watching the city go by. He told me how his family had emigrated from Russia when he was 5 with $500 and one suitcase each, how they had to start from scratch. How that taught him the value of money and hard work and helped him get to where he was now. He lamented the fact that so many people live inauthentic, scripted lives never daring to veer off the beaten path – like his brother and sister-in-law who worked their asses off at jobs they didn't like so they can send their kids to private schools, felt poor in comparison to their even richer friends, and never seemed satisfied with their lives. He, on the other hand, was living his life exactly the way he wanted.

And he really seemed like the man who had it all. He was painfully good-looking: his face was gorgeous, his teeth flawless, his height adequate, his body perfectly toned. He was the ultimate lover: an enormous cock that can get hard, fuck, and come multiple times a night; a good kisser; passionate and attentive; even nice to sleep with. He had a great apartment in the coolest neighborhood in NYC, a job he absolutely loved, a beautiful office walking distance from his apartment, lots of money to pay for the things he likes (cars, motorcycles, adventure sports, travel), and 2 months of vacation a year to enjoy those things.

The only disadvantage to his personality that I could find after spending one long night with him was that he was wound a bit too tightly, as if any minute he could explode into unseen rage if only the opportunity arose. He liked to use 'fucking' as an adjective in virtually every sentence. He liked to talk about himself and hear himself talk. He was acutely aware of all his blessings and not shy to flaunt them. I guess it's hard not to get a bit full of yourself when you have everything going for you. He was the perfect example of a testosterone - and dopamine - driven alpha male.

And there, my dear readers, is the straw that will save me from drowning in his sea of almost perfection; the red flag that will prevent me from helplessly falling in love. He would make an amazing fuck buddy or friends-with-benefits, but we would never work long term: We're both highly dominant and we'd be butting heads every step of the way. It'd be a major disaster. I suspect he will end up with someone much more deferential and docile than me. Perhaps I should add 'cannot be too alpha male-ish' to my Relationship Checklist?

Also, although he claimed to be very respectful of women and of their choices to be whoever they wanted to be, I suspect there are some traditional gender attitudes and stereotypes ingrained in his mind (yes, Madonna/whore dichotomy, I'm looking at you!) that would preclude him from considering me as a long-term partner. Finally, we barely scratched the issue of non-monogamy in relationships, but I suspect he would not be OK with my level of openness.

So I just need to keep these things in mind when my mind stubbornly keeps wandering off into the direction of his gorgeousness...

Lounging naked in the sun, sipping on the live-giving bitter black liquid, discussing life, sex, science, relationships, we could've gone on for hours. But we both had to go. After stepping out of the shower he called me a car. He looked so sexy, naked on the phone, that I dropped down on my knees and wrapped my lips around his semi-erect cock. It had already been 2 hours since he'd come last, so he got hard again in no time. I didn't get a chance to come before he shot a load down my throat, but it was hot nonetheless.

A goodbye blowjob, instead of a goodbye kiss.

Out on the street, I could still taste his cum while waiting for the cab to arrive.

To be continued...

Related posts:
My Relationship Checklist
Face-Fucked in a Dentist Chair with Nitrous Oxide
Pervertically Virtuous | May 22, 2013 at 11:36 am | Tags: alpha male, blowjob, casual sex, dirty talk, dominant, drugs, horny, Karlo, orgasm, sex stories | Categories: Casual sex, Sex Stories

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