Sugar Daddy rescued my Halloween night and we enjoyed hours exploring each other’s bodies with amazing foreplay and sex, so much so, my clitoris was palpating for about three days afterwards. Every time I walked quickly or sat down I was reminded of the fabulous night by my poor vagina twinges, I felt as if it had done ten rounds with Mike Tyson. Sugar daddy had a habit of coming into my life over and over again, offering unbelievable sex and leaving again a few hours later. I lay in bed after he left that Halloween night questioning if we could ever make it work? He doesn’t even pretend to like me enough to stay overnight anymore, once he has shot his load, he has a cigarette and makes his excuses to leave. My positive mood slowly began to drift and I started to feel insecure and unwanted. I had been in the same position so many times with this man and I can never make it work? I started to feel angry at myself for allowing myself to fall back into a familiar sex arrangement and turned my desperate hungover attention back to tinder.   

I was chatting to a new match, Rob. He was thirty and had his own electrical business. He lived not far from myself and we have mutual friendships. Rob is a complete lad which I can’t help but like, he is not arrogant or snobbish like Sugar Daddy but a hot kind of ned. He has auburn brown hair, handsome, muscley, hilariously funny with cheeky chat. However, he has only split up with his ex-girlfriend in the past six weeks. Rob asked me to go for drinks last weekend but I declined, having a better offer with Brian, but now, with crisis Sugar Daddy mode resurrected I messaged him back and rearranged our date for Friday night.  

I began to get ready that Friday feeling deflated, as I knew I wasn’t one hundred percent into my night planned. I was expecting and secretly hoping for a message from Sugar Daddy since he left but I had received nothing. I always knew the best way to get over a guy was to get under a new one but my fanny was still knitting itself back together after my weekend with Daddy.

I wasn’t planning on having sex with Rob but to avoid any temptation when intoxicated, I deliberately didn’t shave and was sporting my seventies afro style vaginal bush. I wore jeans and a low cut vest top with a high pair of heels and a classy coat.

I headed into town to meet him and felt confident for the first time meeting a stranger, I was getting used with first dates in general and I wasn’t particularly nervous to meet him. We met on Argyle Street and headed into The Spiritualist for some drinks. Holy fuck, he looked extremely hot with his big muscular Johnny Bravo arms bulging through his tight Vivian Westwood jumper. I could tell he was nervous but explained he hadn’t been on a date for over six years as he was newly single. I couldn’t help feeling a stab of jealousy when he said that referring to his ex. What is wrong with me? I thought. I have known this guy for actually five minutes and I had obviously stalked his ex before the date and although she had a pretty face he had most definitely upgraded tonight. We began to drink the amazing cocktails and I laughed the full night. I opened up to him about Sugar Daddy (leaving out the part where I shagged a few nights prior) and reveled my quest to meet someone to have a real connection with. He smiled when I said this and began to turn the conversation around quickly.  

“So how long do you usually wait to see how good the sexual connection is?” he asked cheekily.

Well, usually until my pubes aren’t protruding through my underwear Rob, I thought. But he was giving me definite fanny twitches.

“A few dates” I replied giggling but biting my straw in an attempt to feel sexy.

“That’s a shame, I could have gone a wee spoon tonight”. He replied staring into my love-struck eyes with a boyish smirk on his face.

Just like that, I was in a taxi heading back to East Kilbride with my tongue sticking down Rob’s perfect little throat. How was I going to resist sex? Maybe he wouldn’t mind an au-natural woman? I thought. Who was I kidding he’s going to think I’m an absolute minger who cuts about like this. I was going to have to have some serious self-control here and not have sex. We approached his flat and he invited me in. His home was really nice but simplistic, I could tell he had just moved in and everything was very manly and plain. Hmm.. I could really do something with this place, I thought, and a great location for my work. We sat down on his couch and he poured me a few more drinks. He admitted how much of a good night he was having and began to reveal how his ex’s lack of sex drive ended up tearing them apart. Well, sweetheart, you have met your match here, I thought. We began kissing again and this time the sexual tension was unbelievably strong I was frightened to get up off the couch in case I had left a wet puddle underneath me. I couldn’t have sex with this gigantic curly bush, could I? I began questioning myself and thought about ways I could shag him without him seeing it before I realised it was impossible. I reiterated to Rob that I would rather wait for things to progress after a few more dates to which he agreed. We then went to bed and he respectfully spooned me the rest of the night with the feeling of his huge erect penis pressing into my arse the entire night. This was going to be a long night, I thought.

The next morning I woke up and immediately had the fear. Why did I fucking sleepover? I thought. I looked like shit and could immediately taste how foul my breath must have smelt. He rolled over and smiled,

“You look so cute when your sleeping.”

He kissed my forehead and pulled me towards him. Fuck, I could feel his hard-on press against me already. We started up a conversation whilst I was attempting as little words as possible completely conscious of my dog smelling breath until he rolled on top of me and started to kiss me passionately. Oh my god, this guy was going to be some ride I thought. I could feel my fanny beginning to expel large amounts of cum and I was actual grateful for my fuzzy foliage to keep it contained. He aggressively parted both my legs while his muscular body was gyrating on top of me and I decided there and then I couldn’t wait any longer. I sat up in the bed while the light bulb went off in my head.  

“Hey, Do you mind if I use your shower? I asked.  

He frustratingly laughed as he unmounted me and lead me to the bathroom with his penis pointing the way, he turned the shower on for me and laughed as he left the room. I could hear him calling out,

“What are you doing to me?”

I couldn’t help but have a spring in my step, no, I thought what was I about to do to you pal. I began searching the bathroom frantically looking for a razor or perhaps a pair of scissors to trim my pubes. I found an old bicc razor in the bottom of his toiletry bag and thought this will have to do. I jumped in the shower and began shaving as quick as I could. My heart was racing just in case he came into the bathroom and found me with the leg over my head, fanny lips meeting him at the door. It looked as if someone had to shave a baby chimpanzee in the bath so I took the showerhead to rinse away any evidence of excess shavings and blood loss from the shitty instrument I had to use. I gave myself a good dry and applied extra pressure to the wounds I had obtained and was ready to have a morning filled with passionate sex and attention. I strutted confidently out the shower wearing only a small towel wrapped over me and Rob was lying on top of his bed smiling mischievously. I walked over and kissed him on the lips wanting to pick things up from where we had left them. He pecked me back unenthusiastically and said,

“Have you got another top to go home with?”

I was so confused. I am literally here wearing only a hand towel waiting to be jumped on.

“No, why?” I asked, cautiously waiting on a reply.

“When you were in the shower I got a little excited”. He held up my top from last night with one finger in disgust and it had been destroyed. It was encrusted with slimy spunk. Is he having a fucking laugh? I thought. I felt so violated. Ok, never mind the fact I had just shaved my full fanny for nothing. I had to pretend to be OK with it and act as if this behavior was normal.

“Ah OK, thanks for that. I’ll just need to button my coat up I suppose” I replied.

I lay on the opposite end of the bed, whilst he was on his phone looking proud as punch.  

“Aww, is someone in a wee huff?” he asked.

Huff, I thought. No its perfectly normal to ejaculate all over a girl’s clothes when you have just met them and send them home topless, like a prostitute, with there semen stained top swinging in a fucking carrier bag awaiting the washing machine. No wonder his ex had no sex drive, I thought, he was probably leaving half her wardrobe stuck together in the basket, the poor girl had no time to fuck from all the laundry she was accumulating and more than likely couldn’t stomach him. The dirty bastard.

I was angry and annoyed, not just at Rob but at myself for being in this situation again. I thought I was about to have great sex but instead, like most men, he pleased himself and I ended up with a bag for life and a badly shaved, painful vagina, but not in the way I had hoped for. I made an excuse shortly after and headed home in a taxi feeling like a common prostitute, topless, with my coat hiding what dignity I had left.