Sex isn’t sexy if there’s just sex and not some other parts of life – perhaps tamer parts for the explicit to interrupt.
Most of my explicit content and erotic stories I save for publishing in the volumes of The Sinner Saint Diary books. I have decided to share some stories on the blog as well – mainly smaller, one offs that don’t really fit into any of the stories chosen for publishing.
Content warning: if you read this blog just for the “philosophical” content and have aversions to sexually explicit stories, click here to read Nineteen Things I’ve Learned About It..
One weekend in my life as a college sophomore.
After a Friday night of partying at a friends fraternity I woke up early to a phone call – it pierced like a shotgun blast through into a near death hangover.
“I’m hear downstairs – can you buzz me in?”
Fuck! Apparently I’d talked Sheryl into flying out – from Arizona to California. Thanks to the alcohol and half dozen lines, I had no memory of talking her into flying out for the weekend. Knowing myself, it wasn’t hard to guess what was happening.
Luckily my roommate had spent the night at his girlfriend’s – as usual. I tried to keep quiet for the two sleeping in the apartment’s other bedroom.
As soon as Sheryl got to my room she started in – removed my robe – kissed and grabbed. This was good – I didn’t have to pretend to remembered inviting her and act happy to see her.
It was around 9am – very early by college “apartment-dorm” standards on a Saturday. This was a problem – Sheryl was wanting to fuck. Fucking wasn’t the problem – the fact that she was the loudest girl i had ever been with was.
I met Sheryl at a summer job while home for the summer. She was a thin, tall, bleach blond sorority girl – dressed expensively and groomed meticulously – tried hard to be materialistic and Greek-cliche, but underneath she was shy, kind and really working hard to fit in with a shallower, more self assured crowd.
Sheryl was wearing a dressy skirt and blouse – can’t remember ever seeing her in anything other than a skirt. Her panties were always slinky and sexy – not sure if that was for seeing me or everyday. She had long legs and small perky tits with pronounced nipples longer than pencil erasers. Sheryl was skin-and-bones thin so the small breasts and assertive nipples harmonize beautifully and sufficiently with the rest of her. Her hair was the best – perfectly healthy and straight – long to the middle of her back. She was a natural blond – and by the fullness of her bush – proud of it.
So, Sheryl had gotten on a plane, flown to LAX (Los Angeles airport), taken a Super Shorty five minutes to my place and was dressed to the nines with full makeup – all by 9am… if that wasn’t reason enough to cooperate, her hand reaching down my shorts and fondling my dick was. Or, the hangover hornyness was. Do you get that? Do girls get hungover horny?
For a guy, hungover hornyness is when you wake up semi-hard, still a little drunk from the night before, feeling too brain dead to think, but ready to do anything pleasurable – to ride out the buzz residue and stave off the fully lucid and painful waves of recovery. Hungover sex – better than bacon.
Anyway, I’d only slept with Sheryl a couple times. Once in a hotel and once in my parents/family house while nobody was home. The time in the hotel I stopped much sooner than I would have – was sure there would be complaints if we continued. Very orgasmic girl – she’d come right away and keep coming – and keep vocalizing and moaning loud. It would have been unacceptable if it hadn’t been natural and sincere – if not for Sheryl being shy, appropriate and so prudent otherwise.
End of part one of two