Once upon a time I had another site which I used to showcase some diaries of mine from 1997.
I have decided to finally bring them slowly over to this blog. With the Food for thought prompt of Dating this entry came into my mind.
Remember when reading that this was written 23 years ago. It is copied from my diary with a few edits…
Content Warning ~ may contain graphic and disturbing material for some readers – blow jobs forced-sex
The one where I give him head ~ May 1997
The evening started well. He picked me up outside Mum’s place as we were going to the village near her new flat.
As soon as we got there and sat down with our drinks he enthusiastically began to talk about all the places we could go together and generally how great it would be. He told me he wants to take me to his work mate’s garden party, so I can meet him and his wife. The confusion started when we were onto our second drink and I thought it was time to tell him that Seb and I were no longer together. That is when the atmosphere changed.
He questioned me asking if that meant Seb had moved out, and had I said anything about him. Of course I wouldn’t have, doing so would have been asking for trouble. Then he went into a long speech about how he hoped I wasn’t expecting anything from him. He wasn’t committing to anyone. He explained how he liked me but didn’t want a serious setup. It felt like a slap round the face. Don’t get me wrong I wasn’t thinking of settling down with him, but I had thought we would kind of officially be an item. Boyfriend and girlfriend. I was looking forward to it and all the excitement that comes from a new liaison with someone you ‘re really into, and who digs you too. It appears that is not going to be happening here.
I think I did a reasonable attempt at regaining my dignity and not letting him see that he’d hurt my feelings. I went to the toilets and gave myself a moment and a stern talking to. No way was I going to give him the satisfaction of showing he’d upset me. I think he genuinely didn’t notice or thought I was in agreement regarding the “state” our relationship would take – as he started behaving in his normal hilarious fashion and soon I couldn’t help but laugh along too.
He came and sat really close to me. I could smell his aftershave mingled with fresh sweat. It was a hot night. We chatted about his past jobs and my travelling and left at closing time. He drove me home but went and parked around the corner in a dark quiet close. It wasn’t long before we began kissing. His hands were un-clipping my bra and groping roughly at my breasts. It felt great. He is an exceptional kisser, probably my best so far. Then what happened next shocked me a bit but I did remind myself that I want dirty sex so shouldn’t have been too surprised – I knew that the possibility of getting it was one of the things that attracted me to him.
He swiftly undid his flies. His cock was stiff and protruding. Then in an extremely forceful manner he pushed my head down onto his lap and maneuvered his dick into my mouth. He began to move my head for his pleasure.
Now I am not averse to giving a blowjob but I usually make that move, I have never been forced to do it. However, the experience began to excite me. I do find him extremely horny and my cunt felt as wet as could be. I got in the zone and began to suck, lick and tease. He was moaning in contentment and every now and then he would push my head so his cock thrust deeper into my mouth and throat. Then he said something which made me uncomfortable. He was getting to that place where there would be no going back, and muttering his delight in what I was doing when suddenly,
“Ah that feels great, you fucking bastard.”
I thought I must have miss heard him but almost within the next ten seconds he called me a bastard again.
Then he spurted in my mouth and down my throat. I swallowed. He buttoned his flies, drove me round to mum’s place and said,
” I’ll call you.”
He’s the fucking bastard – not me. Why would a guy call a girl a bastard? Surly not? In my understanding a guy calls a girl a bitch. The girl may call the guy a fucking bastard. I’ve not really got loads of experience of dirty talk during sex but to my untrained ear it felt like he thought I was a bloke! If a guy was giving another guy a blow job they may well use that word.
Thinking back to Hannah’s party when I first agreed to meet him. He said that queer thing,
“I’ve never been out with a girl I liked before”
Maybe that’s just it, he is so camp, and maybe he normally goes out with guys? Could that be it?
I am going crazy analysing it all. The funny thing is I still want him to call though. Will talk to Christine about it at work on Monday, see what she thinks.
The header image is not of the incident – I didn’t have time to whip out my camera and in those days selfies were not quite invented. But to illustrate the post I have used an image of me and my man… 😉
Now a days I love a good face-fucking