Let me start this story by saying I have the worst luck in men. Not that I have luck in finding them, but I can never quite get the total package. They either look amazing and are broke, have the best bodies but are sexual deviants, or are rich but are horrible in bed… you get the idea.
With that being said, I met to be what I thought was the most amazing man I had met in my life a few weeks ago. Picture this, I was at the bar sipping my signature, gin&tonic, when a beautiful dark, polished man walked up and asked if I wanted a drink. Judging by his clothes, this guy was loaded. So instead of looking like a gold digger, I offered to buy him a drink. He was happily surprised, and we spent the next half hour or so talking and laughing. I didn’t want him to think that he had me wide open (and he did) so I told him I had to go. He asked for my number, and instead I asked for his card.
Great story right? Well fast forward a week, I go to call him and his number was disconnected ( I know right, damn). I was upset for about two seconds, then I realized who ever is tacky enough to pass out a card with a disconnected number is not worth my time. So a few evenings later, a friend and I went to this hip sushi bar for happy hour. Well the bar was hip….2 years ago. It was ridiculously dead that night and over run with washed up 30something year-old women. After we paid for our drinks we sashayed out the bar. As we walked to the car, I heard a man say excuse me miss. My friend and I began to walk faster ( we thought it was the bartender coming to yell at us for the crappy tip we left). Soon the voice was right behind me, I turned around and it was him, Mr. Wonderful. He told me how upset he was not to hear from me, and asked if I was interested in having dinner. I explained to him how his phone was disconnected, and he burst out in laughter. Turns out his number was never disconnected, and that I was so excited to be calling him, that I dialed the wrong number (it happens). Anyways, we exchange numbers and planned a date.
Our date started off amazing. We went to an Italian restaurant for dinner, a nice jazz club for drinks and then he asked the question that seems to always come up on dates now-a-days, “would you like to go back to my place”?! I was hesitant, but this guy was a charmer, and I trusted myself not to sleep with him. We get to his place and he puts on “I Am Legend”. I had seen it before, and so had he, so I assumed that we were going to be spending more time watching each other and not Will Smith. After about 30 minutes or so of the movie he yells my name, I turn around and give him the “WTF face” and he kisses me (how original). The kissing continues for awhile and then he begins to reach for my pants zipper, I look at him and say no. He smiles and then slowly begins to turn me over. I was very confused. He pulled the rest of my pants down and before I could stop him, he was face deep in my butt. Was it amazing, yes? Was I freaked out, hell yes! I had just met this guy and he was already licking my ass? I was a bit embarrassed after he finished, but then I realized he was the one licking my ass, I have no reason to be ashamed. I start staring at Will Smith again, when I realize that Mr.Wonderful (now Mr.Buttmuncher) was staring at me. I asked him is everything ok, and then he asked the question of all questions. A question I only heard being asked of women in movies, never in real life. Mr. Buttmuncher asked “do you mind if I jack-off and you watch?”. I was mortified. Petrified. Hell any and every other –fied you can think of. I shrugged, but I was hoping he would take that as a hell no. So he begins to pleasure himself, and I had to look away. I couldn’t watch. What he was doing should be reserved for in the comforts of his own shower. Several minutes later he let out a moan, I looked down, and his black hands were covered in semen. Yes I said it, semen. I could have died. No seriously. He then gets up, goes to the bathroom and (I hope) washed his hands. He comes out, sits down on the couch like nothing even happened and asks for the popcorn. He could have it, I didn’t want any parts of that popcorn after those antics he just pulled. He dropped me off at home, and asked did I have a nice time. I smiled and shook my head (I’m too nice, I know). After that, he called me several times a day for the next few days. He took the hint, and sent me a long fb message about a week later. I haven’t seen Mr. Buttmuncher since, but I wish him, his bootylips and semen hands the best.