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I met him when I was twenty-three, in a club that had nothing to offer except dark corners and cheap booze. He was two years younger than me, but I felt like I had far more than two years on him when we kissed. His nerves and inexperience were palpable beneath my eager touch.
We huddled together in the doorway of a fish & chip shop, my body pressed against his with an obscene level of desire given our location. He mumbled under his breath that we could go back to his place. I made brief enquiries as to where this was, but a ten-minute cab journey was much too long. Not when a quiet back alley would serve our purpose.
I pulled him by the hands, to an alley that he was clearly new to, but I must confess I had frequented more than once. His pants were unzipped and the condom was on, his eyes were wide and I couldn’t tell if he was delighted or terrified. I’d barely got the words ‘are you sure you want to?’ out of my mouth though before he was nodding and mumbling his enthusiastic consent.
I pulled up my barely-there dress, remove my thong, one of many I left somewhere I shouldn’t have and bent over, my arms resting on a stack of abandoned delivery crates as I unceremoniously told him to fuck me.
His dick was a great size for me, not long but really girthy. I’ve always loved that. He pushed himself into me and I don’t know who moaned the loudest, his nerves had certainly calmed by this point though and he was like a man possessed as he gripped my hips and found his rhythm.
It went on for far longer than I had anticipated, I lost count of how many times my cunt gripped his dick as I came. I was fucking chafed the next day, didn’t stop me rubbing one out though to the memories of the night before.
He’d put his number in my phone ‘just in case’ he’d said, I’d smiley politely, inwardly laughing at him. Back alley quickies, with faces I never saw again were my bag. Not second helpings, or sex in beds. I reminded myself of this as I typed out my message to him …
‘‘Free for a drink soon’.
I also told myself to fuck off when I replied just as quick to his counteroffer.
‘How about dinner at mine?’
I told myself I was going back for the dick, ignoring how he’d been the only person to ever make me laugh in that shithole of a club.