Pulitzer Prize Titty Fuck

24 Jun

I went out with a friend to meet her new boyfriend and his friends. When we get to the bar, the guys are all watching football and seem pretty uninterested in us. I’m sitting next to one who makes some haphazard flirty remarks but doesn’t pay too much attention to me. My friend had told me that this guy is sort of a big deal writer now but I didn’t really pay attention to her or ask any questions. By the end of the night, somehow this guy has continued to buy me drinks and everyone has left us at the bar together. As soon as they leave, he puts his hand on my leg and starts trying to make out with me at the bar and I’m sort of embarrassed because I’m not really into PDA, especially with strangers. We’re sort of making boring small talk when all of a sudden he goes, “You’re a little bitch aren’t you?” I stare at him sort of thrown off but smirk and say, “What?” He continues and says, “Yeah, you’re a dirty little whore, aren’t you?” Somehow this doesn’t make me run but instead I’m shocked that someone who I thought had a minor Napoleonic complex has the balls to say that to me and I’m intrigued.

We get to his apartment and while he’s in the bathroom I scan the walls and notice all of the strange Christian themed decor. He comes back and we have sex but he’s drunk and not really that hard so it turns into a horrendous soft-hard-slip-out situation. He seems really into it and I’m so bored and just waiting for it to end. The grand-finale involves him titty fucking me and then essentially rolling all over my body so that I’m virtually covered in his chode cum.

When I wake up in the morning he tries to cuddle with me and says, “I woke up in the middle of the night and my arm touched your body, and my first thought was…Who IS this?” At this point I am thoroughly disgusted and start gathering my things to leave. He grabs me and wants to have sex again and for a moment I am literally chased through the apartment as I try to avoid another soft-hard experience. On my way out he makes me pick a shirt out for him that he’s going to wear for a photo shoot for The New York Times. I finally escape and promptly google him, where I learn that he is nominated for a Pulitzer Prize this year. By the time I get home, he has facebook friended me but I never hear from him again. Four months later we cross paths. He tells me I look really good, and he still has my business card with my contact information but has been really busy lately. All of his friends tell me he hasn’t fucked anyone since me. I leave without saying bye, and by the time I get home I have a facebook message that says, “nice seeing you tonight. hope to be able to see you more extensively soon…..”

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