Sometimes the best shag is the worst thing ever

Sometimes the best shag is the worst thing ever.

I didn’t get my clit licked weekend. I guess I could have let Grandpa lick it, but the fact that he was all to eager to do it made me want to say no. Also, I don’t want to rush things with him.

In lieu of what would usually be a bean-flicking festival I’m going to tell you about the best shag I ever had.

It was February this year. I don’t want to mention or allude to his identity as I’m quite protective of him. There is a magnanimous side of me that just wants the absolute best for him. (Then again there is a horny side of me that wants to shag him rotten). All you need to know about “the guy” is that at the time we were seeing each other he was faced with some difficult decisions.

There was some raw attraction that had been lurking behind our platonic friendship. Then one day there was a break-through: our feelings surfaced we went out on an “official” date. Later that night we made love. It was fantastic. That, however, wasn’t the best shag I had with him. It was several weeks later.

There’s something really exciting about having a new cock inside you. I think guys feel the same way, about pussies; that there’s something exiting about putting your cock in a new pussy. Am I right about that? The excitement and newness of it all makes it worth the pursuit.

Despite my flirtatious nature and love of oral sex I’ve only been penetrated by 5 different guys in my whole life. As I explained in an earlier entry, I have a very tight pussy. I’m not at all saying that to brag – but physically it is tight. My gyno has confirmed that it is indeed tight. Because it’s so tight I haven’t slept with many men That’s another reason why I prefer receiving oral sex. I really do not like being penetrated unless it’s with someone I trust implicitly.

My bastard ex-boyfriend who I'll refer to as N. was a bit of a sadist. He knew that if he positioned his cock a certain way in my pussy that it would hurt. I shouldn’t say hurt, rather it fucking killed. It’s the sort of pain that makes you walk funny for days afterwards. In the days when we were having sex he would intentionally fuck me so I would feel pain. He wouldn’t feel satisfied until he saw tears. The very first time it happened I yelled, “What are you doing?” He replied, “I’m gonna fuck you til you cry.” The moment I would shout out in unbearable pain was the moment he’d cum. He said those were his favorite shags. Remind me why I stayed with that bastard so long? Oh right, because back then I was fat and had no self confidence. My, my, my how times have changed!

Oh, and one more thing. I’m getting e-mail from guys who want to be #6; Guys who want to be the 6th guy to penetrate me. Honestly, do you think I’m just going to let any guy do that to me? I’m very choosy and IF I decide I want to be penetrated it will be by someone who is charming, romantic and deserving of my attention. And if he were rich too that would help ;-)

Anyhow, I digress…

One night Mr. Best Shag ever for dinner in Mayfair. We later took a taxi back to his place in W1. After drinking copious amounts of white wine he led me upstairs to the bedroom. He was so gentle leading me up the stairs. As soon as we entered the bedroom he turned into an animal. I loved it! He lifted me up, and propped me on his bed. He buried his head under my dress. He pulled down my panties with his teeth. Licked my clit and ate me out so well! It was as if he thrived off pussy juice and couldn’t get enough. I came 3 times. Two small orgasms and one huge one.

He came out from under my dress and I saw that his mouth was covered in my pussy juice. He had this devilish look on his face as if he were a hungry kid who just ate the last Toblerone.

We snogged and then I licked my own juices off his face. He was so forceful except when it came for me to take off my dress. He was so cute in that he was concerned that if he ripped it off me that it would ruin the dress. So he was gentle in handling the dress, but then when back to being the testosterone-driven no-nonsense stud.

He took off his shirt, unbuckled his belt, and pulled down his trousers. He was wearing Y-fronts. I could see a massive hard on bulging out from udnerneath. I lowered his pants and took the whole of his cock in my mouth. He sighed a sigh of pleasure.

Normally, I really do not like giving blowjobs. I trusted this guy so much and cared a great deal for him. Sucking his cock was a pleasure; a desire. During the time we were seeing each other I woke up every morning thirsting for the taste of his cum in my month. I’ve never, EVER been like that about any other guy. I mean I used to really hate, hate, hate giving blowjobs. Being with this guy changed how I felt about fellatio. I woke up every morning gagging for his cock – although I never told him that.

I sucked him off for about 10 minutes. I didn’t want him to cum because I wanted him to fuck me. As soon as I took his cock out of his mouth, he flipped me over so that I was on my stomach with my arse in the air. He fingered my pussy for a few brief seconds then stuck his cock inside. We were in a straight-legged doggie style type position.

He grabbed both of my hands and clasped them behind my back. He used the weight of his body to keep my hands in place all the while he was thrusting me. He then found my sweet spot. I go absolutely wild when a guy kisses my ear. I started bucking back and forth. This really got him going. I tried to resist him kissing me on the ear, but the more I reacted the more he would kiss it. He loved seeing me thrash around.

He kept fucking me, harder and hard; simultaneously he was driving me wild by kissing my ear. Then suddenly it hit me. He had control over my body. I was pinned I couldn’t get him off if I wanted to. My face was buried in the pillows so I could hardly talk. I started panicking

“Stop, please stop.” I muttered.

Either he couldn’t hear me or didn’t want to.

“I’m serious, please stop.”

He kept going. He seemed to turn into even more of a mad man.

After being pinned down for 20 minutes, he finally came.

“Fuck, yeah, fuck, yeah. Oh fuuuuck.” He yelled.

He got off me but soon saw the scared look on my face.

He immediately apologized and said he didn’t mean to scare me. I didn’t tell him but that was unquestionably the best sex I ever had. The panicked feeling heightened t the tension. We embraced for a long while. He apologized a further 3 times. I told him that it was fine; that there was nothing to apologize for.

So here it is now, 6 months later. I still think about that steamy night. Sometimes when I use my vibrator I try to recreate that scenario in my mind. It was hot, raw, wrong yet amazing at the same tme. The reason why I say that the best shag is the worst thing is because the moment is over and can't be repeated. It's like having the most fantastic meal ever at your favorite restaurant -- and now that restaurant is closed permantely. You can reminisce all you want, but you'll never eat there again. And even though there are other dishes to be had at other restaurant, it still inspires a tinge of sadness. Enough of that metaphor!

Incidentlly, that same logic is the exact reason why I never order the daily specials from restaurants. I'm afraid I'll like it too much and never get it again.

He's a good guy. Whatever he’s doing now, I just hope he’s happy. That’s all I really want for him. I do wonder sometimes if he ever thinks about that night too.

I hope so.