So tonight I want to tell you about the first time The Prince and I had sex.
We had known each other about six months, and had been hanging out every weekend for the previous few.
We met in a class for convicted drunk drivers and after a few months of attending together, I finally gave him my number.
No, it’s not what you think. I didn’t see him as some hot guy I just “had to have”. It was nothing like that actually.
At first glance, I didn’t find him to be attractive in the least bit. I spent the majority of the boring two hour long classes staring at his balding head. This is because he would show up drunk and be half asleep through it with his head in his hands. He usually happened to be sitting directly across from me. The sweet Prince was beer swollen and had the thighs of a 40 year old, retired football player. Because of these things, I had assumed he was close to my age. So when I found out he was still in his 20’s, it was a bit of a shock.
Now, I can’t sit here and knock his looks without being honest. I was 50 lbs over my own healthy weight, and my face was so swollen, you could barely see me eyes. I regularly wore sarongs over all my clothes to try to cover up my bulging stomach and protruding saddle bags.
So why did I give him my number you ask? Well, that story will be in the upcoming book, “Bread” along with the tale of my old psycho roommate. You can catch the viral news clip here if you haven’t already seen it.
Anyway, back to my blog post. Pay attention!
When The Prince and I first started talking, he already had a long term girlfriend, so our relationship was strictly platonic. Somewhere into our third hangout, he told me they had split up. Though looking back, I’m pretty certain he was lying.
As it turned out, The Prince was crushing on me all along. Why, he even bought my last book (I keep telling you guys, that’s the key to my heart)!
Anyway, The Prince was a multiple offender and had managed to land himself three DUIs. This meant in order for him to avoid jail time, he had to agree to regular alcohol screenings and surprise visits from his probation officer. Yippee!
Due to boredom from not being able to consume his beverage of choice, he spent a lot of his time working out.
After seeing myself on TV, I had a wake up call of my own (because the DUI obviously didn’t do it!) and stopped drinking myself. I also had resumed my nightly runs.
Soon the two of us had lost a lot of weight. We spent the weekends on my outside patio drinking cases of Perrier sparkling water and chain smoking cigarettes.
I have to admit it was probably the most boring month ever. We were both shy without liquid courage and The Prince, not having English as his first language, made our conversations a bit challenging.
Still we continued to hang out and text nightly, curing each other’s boredom. Well, at least somewhat.
Then one night everything changed. I was lying on my bed, consumed within a benign block breaking game on my phone when the text came in.
It was a photo of The Prince in his bath tub drinking a bottle of Perrier. The caption read, “Thinking of you.”
No! It wasn’t THAT kind of photo. Shame on you! I couldn’t see his junk. But it did show his broad shoulders and newly toned chest in all their magnificent glory. He was hot!
My pulse began racing and my panties were moist. Suddenly, my perception of him dramatically changed. The flirting began:
“You look hot in that pic!” I replied.
“I’m thinking dirty things.” I admitted.
“Like what?” he asked.
“I’m not telling! Now I’m blushing!”
In return I sent him a sexy photo of my own.
I touched myself that night, thinking about him.
The flirting continued until the following weekend. I picked him up that night wearing a low cut dress with a slit up the side of my leg.
He didn’t want me to pick him up, but I had insisted, worried he’d get caught driving on his suspended license.
Once back to my place, we took a seat on either end of my sofa. I humored him by watching that stupid Motley Crue movie. We sat in silence through most of it and the sex scenes were a bit awkward. I laughed when he laughed and feigned the best interest in it I could. But really I was just wishing he’d make a move!
Finally, after an exhausting ninety minutes, I had managed to scoot myself onto the cushion next to his.
He looked at me with fire in his eyes, licked his lips and then awkwardly placed his arm around my shoulder.
He turned to face me, showed me a smile that insinuated he might eat me alive and then he spoke.
“Eh, we should…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, instead he leaned in and kissed me.
I want to tell you that there were fireworks, that I sat there sopping wet, with my pussy throbbing and my nipples bulging but that would be a lie.
There was something about him that absolutely terrified me. He was the lion and I was his prey.
Still, as he stood up grabbing my hand, I followed him into my bedroom.
Now, I didn’t have a bed yet. After spending two years sleeping on a sofa, I had only recently moved into my two bedroom apartment. So all I had was a full size pillow top, clumsily stacked upon a smaller twin size mattress.
The Prince laid me down along my make shift bed. Once on my back, he placed his weight on top of my own, and his tongue in my mouth. Then in the same second, the mattress top gave way and we rolled right off. The Prince tried to rescue me, but it happened too fast, and we landed intertwined on my floor together, looking like an unsalted pretzel.
I would like to tell you that this little accident ruined my mood, but I still wasn’t really feeling anything. In fact, I was terrified stiff. I felt like I was a small animal in the middle of a road, watching a truck’s impending headlights yet unable to run across it.
But that wasn’t going to stop me from trying. That’s right! It had been a long time since this bitch had any action and I wasn’t about to blow my only chance!
After a bout of laughter, my lion man pulled me back onto the bed with a roar, and slipped off my dress. My panties followed. I sheepishly watched him remove his own clothes, but I didn’t look down to see what he was packing. I just remember thinking to myself, “Dear God, please let it be big!”
I waited for my surprise as he forced the entirety of his erection inside of me for the first time. Before I knew it, I felt like I was being split in half.
He may have been a lion, but The Prince was hung like a farm animal.
I’m serious! Have you ever gone to one of those Tijuana donkey shows? It probably felt something like that!Except the prince smelled better, a lot better.
The Prince obviously had not been schooled about foreplay. I’m guessing, that where he’s from, it’s probably unlikely the women are allowed to discuss their needs in bed.
He pounded me for an hour, with the force of a rocket ship pummeling into deep space.
I tried my best to orgasm, but with the lack of stimulation anywhere but my vagina, and the nervousness I had of him already, I just couldn’t reach the cosmos.
When it was all over, we went back onto my patio and chain smoked. The conversation remained awkward.
Though the night had not been what I was hoping, I was more than willing to give it another go and the weeks that followed we did just that.
Despite the shortcoming in the beginning of our relationship, sex with The Prince ended up being some of the best I’ve ever had. Trust me, mind blowing!
But alas my friends, I’m saving that for another story!
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