It’s better down where it’s wetter

I met this gentleman at a networking event. He went out of his way to persue me. He even made friends with all of my friends to up his chances.

His description: 5’11, slender runner physique, bald, crystal blue eyes, a bit of crinkle on the sides of his eyes when he smiled, good manners, owned his own marketing company, and divorced with one child.

The night that this adventure took place we had gone to a jazz festival concert. A lot of drinking happened this evening. He had picked me up. So, I went home with him in my tipsy state. He told me that he lived on the water and that his son lived with him part of the time. So please don’t judge his bachelor pad. It hasn’t had a woman’s touch in quite a while. I’m expecting a tiny house with poor taste and a bicycle for a five year old out front.

We drive up to the house and the lights kick on. Oh my god, his bachelor pad is GORGEOUS and quite LARGE. I’m thinking SCORE! But he passes by the beautiful home to what looks like the carriage house. It reminded me more of a fisherman’s shack. It was run down looking. I think to myself well he wasn’t kidding.

First impressions, the inside reminded me of a beach house with grandma as the interior decorator. Because floral was EVERYWHERE it was chilly inside his place. I asked him if he could turn on the heat please. He said he didn’t pay for heat… But he had individual heaters.

Oh my goodness.

His son had the largest room in his fisherman shack. The bathroom reminded me of an outhouse. But this one happened to have a teeny shower to go along with it.

We go into the his bedroom. There’s a lumpy king size bed in the middle that has seen better days. Dark wood paneling was everywhere. The eighties called, they want there wood paneling back. The carpet was SHAG.. Yep shag green carpet. That’s the seventies calling. Many decades were calling to me while taking the tour of his home. As I walk across the forest floor to his bed I take note of the windows. They have the most interesting window treatments. White sheets with little cartoon turtles… I guess they match the shag green carpet.

He said it would be warmer if we slept together…

Wow, talk about an old and tired line. He rolled in a heater but plugged it in on the opposite side of the room. He said he’d keep me warm as he plugged it in. I kept my dress on, but took my undergarments off. Then I asked him for socks because my toes were like little ice cubes.

I’m huddled underneath the covers to get warm. He strips down to nothing. He wasn’t too bad looking. He crawled onto the bed. Then pulled me towards the middle of the bed. He kissed me. NOT a great kisser. It reminded me of a bad high school make out session. He must be part reptile, because all I thought was lizard tongue.

Where was crocodile dundee when I need him?

He gets really excited. Begins to jump over me from side to side. I ask him what’s going on? He said he so excited that I’m finally over. That he doesn’t know exactly what he wants to do with me. I think to myself FUCK, this isn’t a good sign. When the majority of men get a woman into their bed, they know what they want to do with her. What did I get myself into?

I shouldn’t have entered the fisherman shack.

He gets underneath the covers. I’m on my stomach facing the wall, with my pillow tucked under my head. I figure this will save me from anymore lizard kisses. But then he begins to give a great deep massage. It felt really good, so I thought why not. He straddles my thighs and pushes my dress up and off. He then starts to hump me. I ask him what he’s doing, he says it’s just a massage. Then he starts to kiss me again. I go with it.

Next thing I notice, it feels like he’s dry humping my ass. I turn around to see what’s going on. He tells me that I feel sooo good. I’m not quite sure what he’s talking about. He working it back there. I take my hand to the back to figure out what is going on back there. He was fucking the skin between the anal area and the kitty (refer to needed a strong hand). This is when I realize he thinks that he’s IN. Like IN ME, but he’s NOT IN ME. WHAT THE FUCK? How did this man produce a child? If he can’t even find his way in? I feel like that’s pretty basic. But then again I wasn’t feeling anything during this moment only he was.

Just as I’m about to guide him to where he needs to be. I hear him starting to breathe harshly. I know he’s about to finish. Then he rears up, and cums all over my back. From the bottom of my back all the way to my shoulders.

Okay, so I’m NOT a fan at all of having cum on me. I cringe when it’s on my body.

WARNING: Before you read the next portion, I’d highly suggest pouring yourself a glass of wine or if you’ve already got a alcoholic beverage in hand top it off or refill it.  You’re going to be happy that you have it when you read the next part my beloved readers. I’m drinking a glass of red while typing for my own therapeutic purposes.

At this point, gentleman get up for a towel to wipe off what just happened on my back. Instead he applies pressure to the bottom of my back. Then he glides his hands up my spine (take a GULP, NOT a sip of wine you’ll need it). He proceeds to move his hands in circular motions into my back using his cum as massage lotion.

OH MY FUCKING DEAR SWEET LORD BABY JESUS! HELP ME! WHAT THE FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!?!?!?!!!!!!!!!!!

He leans over me and kisses me on the cheek. He tells me I was wonderful. Then rolls over and goes to sleep.

Now I’m in a state of bewilderment.

All I’m thinking is I have to get this SHIT off my back. I roll over thinking all of it was rubbed in. But as I roll some of it trickles down my side. UGH!!!!! I scoot to the end of the bed. This is when I realize that the cum has started to harden and is becoming crusty on my back.

I get to the bathroom. I take a look at my back. It’s definitely crusty and flaking. I get in the shower. It’s extremely dirty, remember fishermans shack. Mold has taken over his shower. I’m thinking a hose outside would be cleaner than this. But I’ve got to get this shit off my back. I turn on the water. Nothing comes out of the spout. I start to panic. But then I hear the water and the plumbing starts to shake.

YES, finally WATER! It was like I was in the desert and I saw an oasis!

The water that comes out is BROWN and RUSTY in color. I SCREAM! I grab the shower curtain, FALL out of the mold shower and pull the curtain with me. I peek out the door to see if I’ve woken up the worst massage therapist in history up.

Thankfully he’s still sound asleep. Now I’ve got another problem. I’ve ripped his shower curtain and I’ve still got a cum encrusted back.

I go into the kitchen and find water bottles next to the fridge. Then I go back into the bathroom. I’m rinsing off my back in the shower with the water bottles. There are towels in the bathroom, I smell the towels before I use them. Use the mold free towels to dry off, go back into his room, grab a tshirt, and go to sleep.

I wake up to the smell of the elixir of life. I think it’s all a dream. I look at my surroundings and realize NOPE this is reality.

He’s moving around in the kitchen. He pops in and said his made coffee, and if you’d like to use the shower feel free. Then tells me to use his son’s bathroom. Because his has been broken… SHIT, now he tells me.

TIP: Semen is a natural product, but NOT a substitute for massage oil. EVER.

©southerngabunny