I was 16, he was 29, he was a coworker of my dad—we met one year when my dad threw a party for the Kentucky Derby (for those who don't know, the Derby is like Mardi Gras for us Louisville people). And in Kentucky especially, age aint nothin’ but a number, so the age gap didn’t make a difference. He was fine, I was young, and we were both horny.
…I was the first to wake up, that morning, years ago. Being held in his arms tight, but loose enough to let me know that if I had to leave, it would be okay. But if felt so good to be held, not that the sex wasn’t amazing, because it was, but being held was a spiritual reminder that after my brains are done being fucked outside of my skull, he cared enough about the rest of my body to hold it for a while. My senses were buzzing: the smell of Old Spice bodywash clinging to our skin; the taste of skin, salty from sweat worked up by passion; how it felt when I ran my fingers down his abs, felt like yellow-brick roads on my fingers leading down to the Wizard of Oz—and no, unlike the movie, his Wizard was just as big behind the curtain as it appeared to be! The deep baritone of his voice has been stuck in my head like the love songs we played on repeat.
And damn, the way he could make his tongue flat as he ate me out—it felt so good it brought tears to my eyes. And I would try and scoot up in the bed and he’d grab my arms and pull me back down onto his tongue—FUCK! He had this magic power over me and he knew it. We took our time with it and I can honestly say he was the first of only a few guys that I never got bored with having sex. It was always something new everytime: first on the bed, let’s try it standing up, let’s do it in the shower, let’s just 69 for a while, etc.
…me being young, I didn’t care that he had a girl with a child on the way, I was hypnotized by his dick and that’s all I needed to make my world spin. Now that I’m older, I look back at how dangerous it all really was: his girl only worked 5 minutes away from his place and she had a key to his door—she could have walked in at any minute. Everytime the phone rang he would jump up and answer it, telling me to keep quiet, or he’d tell me to put my face in the pillow to muffle my moans. But the way we fucked, I tried to leave my scent on him; leave my scent in his bed sheets, on his clothes, scratch his back, anything to let that bitch know she wasn’t the only one. He had some good dick, a great job, a banging personality, and I wanted to be in her position—so “fuck dat bitch” was my mindset.
But I was only ever good enough for a few nuts and that was it; I was so stupid, I wish I could tell my younger self of how things would turn out: when she finally had the baby, he decided to get serious with her, and I and he would be no more. We still keep in touch through the magic of Facebook; they got married and are expecting their FOURTH child together. Now that I’m older, I have no hard feelings, we had a “thing” that was never to be anything but.
…I said all that to say this…
For spring break, I’m going back down to Kentucky to visit my family and also to handle some business in church, I let him know this on facebook and he tells me that he would love for us to meet up and “catch up” with eachother. I know full well what he means by “catching up” and I’m veeerryyy tempted to say yes—if only to see if he’s as good as I remember.
Yes I have a bf, of course it would be something that even he wouldn't know about, I just really want to see, now that I'm older and much more experienced, if it was just my 16 year old self being swindled by what I thought was some "good dick".
What is a man to do?? Let me know your thoughts/opinions, this is really bothering me!!
(enjoy the pics)