How long has it been since he touched me? Almost 11 weeks. That’s 3 months for all intents and purpose. I should have been expecting this but of course I let my guard down. He has been doing a few little things around the house for me. He doesn’t do anything without expecting something in return. I hear him showering for work and when finished he comes back into the bedroom. I had thrown the covers off my naked body and he walks over and starts to touch me. Since it’s been so long since I had any male touch, I respond immediately, igniting like a match thrown onto wood covered in lighter fluid. He is 40 minutes late in leaving for work already. I know he doesn’t have enough time to finish anything and yet here he is starting something.
He stands beside the bed and leans over me. Hands grope bare, cool skin, fingers immediately push inside me, mouth pulls hard on a bare nipple. My body arches and I flood in wetness. I reach out to and hold onto his thigh before I come around and feel that his penis is hard. I stroke him a few times before he steps back and out of my reach. He asks if he should get the big dildo, I say yes, knowing it will make him late for work, but I don’t care, not now that he seems willing to pleasure me. He pulls away from me completely and then as he stands there in his boxers, his penis pulled out through the middle, he starts to cum. Too late, his hand grabs at his shaft, squeezing, trying to stop what’s already happened.
I look up into his face, not believing what I am seeing, then back to the penis that he released again, so it could finish spurting onto the hardwood floor. Just the idea of using the big dildo on me, caused him to premature ejaculate without even being touched. I said nothing, though the look on my face must have said everything, as I rolled in the opposite direction to get off the bed and go into the bathroom and close the door, so I would not have to fucking look at him. Once again, he used touching me to arouse himself, to get himself off, after months of complete non sexual contact with me, leaving me frustrated. I listen to him quickly leaving the room, muttering something I could not hear through the door and over the sound of the running water I was splashing on my face; I assume to get his clothes on and get out the door to work.
I am in a fucking ugly, mean mood right now. Mad at myself for forgetting to ignore my body when it responds to his touch. Mad at the bastard, who was the perfect sexual mate to my body, who hurt me and who I had to kick out of my life. Mad at the idiot men who pant after me and don’t come close to being what I need sexually or mentally. Mad at men who can’t control their fucking pathetic little pricks and expect a woman to want to have anything to do with them sexually. Again back to being mad at myself for fearing to go out and find a lover who can service me sexually who is a fucking beautifully cock proud, dominant man who I don’t have to fucking parent to try and teach him how to perform.