In case you missed me last week, sorry for the break guys. I’m back with a continuation of my series. If you missed the first few posts, catch up here, here and here asap! Today, since I feel bad for leaving you hanging last week, I’ve rolled up two lessons in one! Now, let’s get into today’s lesson which, as always, is illustrated through a case study.
Case study: Erucesni
As I walked into the hospital for an appointment with my OB/GYN, I saw a man and his pregnant wife sitting in the lobby. I noticed the woman had on her lap a dark blue Bottega Veneta bag and I smiled at her stylish choice. I walked to the reception to ask for my doctor; she was running late so I had to wait.
Sitting a few chairs away from the couple I had seen earlier, the pregnant wife had gone in for her appointment and her husband stayed in the waiting room typing away on his phone. I thought to myself, “men ain’t shit”, impregnating her and then leaving her during her prenatal care.
Months after I was at an art exhibition where my friend was the curator. It was one of those super classy ones where you had to dress fancy. This was a chore because I dress like a hobo by default. For sure there were going to be some potential sugar daddies at the exhibition so me and my baby girl, glucose dependent self decided to go for a slinky silk dress with a backline so low that the string of beautiful coral beads I wore on my waist were on full display for the world to see.
The evening went well, the champagne was good, I had met several potential clients, discussed business and successfully set up not one but two meetings. Slowly as the gallery begun to empty, this man approached me while my friend and I were packing up to leave. I remembered him from the hospital. He said hi and introduced himself, without doing the same, I asked, “how is your wife?”. He was dead ass shocked, “That’s a pretty weird question to ask someone on your first interaction”. He obviously didn’t remember me. I told him about the first time I met him; he was clearly caught off guard. We chit chatted for a bit and I noticed he had strands of silver hair in his beard that I thought was mad cute. He spoke well but I wasn’t particularly interested. My girl said something to me in German right before we walked away from him. To our utter shock, he responded! Look at us trying to be smart speaking a different language to gossip about him but he understood, shit! We all burst out laughing, exchanged numbers and parted ways.
He called me the next day on my work phone to arrange a meeting. We eventually met up for a business meeting and then I found out he is a lawyer and art collector, During the meeting he was lowkey flirting with me and I was so distracted by it. We eventually went out to dinner afterwards where I asked again how his wife was, obviously irritated by having to repeat a question he had never answered. He brought out a picture from his wallet. It was him and the pregnant wife from the other day but in the picture she wasn’t pregnant. I looked closer and there was a ridiculous resemblance. THEY WERE TWINS! He told me some more about himself; he was divorced with a kid.
The night got better once we had established that he didn’t have a pregnant wife. I flirted confidently and he was bolder with his moves towards me. We sat so close to each other and, after emptying two bottles of wine, our conversation was basically him whispering into my ear and placing soft kisses on my neck. I ordered my Uber and he walked me outside. Right before he shut the door to the taxi, I pulled him in with me. Propelled by the highest forces of lust, I grabbed him and he responded. Not giving a hoot about the fact that the driver could see us, we kissed and kissed and tugged at each other’s clothes. We barely managed not to rip our clothes off in the car. I stopped abruptly and sat back from him. As much as I wanted to, I wasn’t going to fuck him in the taxi. He came upstairs to my apartment with me. As soon as the door shut, he pushed me against it, lifted up my skirt, shifted my silk thong to the side and made me cuss in various languages of the world. Minutes after, we lay on the floor just a few centimeters away from the door panting and panting because it was one helluva cardio session. We lay on the floor a bit longer making jokes and laughing at the silliest things, he eventually called a taxi to take him back to the restaurant so he could pick his car and go home.
At work the next day, I gave my boss a summary of his proposition and she was on board. We worked closely together and maintained a professional stance while at it but behind closed doors, Erucesni was giving me stress relieving- leave me panting- my kind of cardio kind of sex.
The project was finally over and we were still fucking. The thing that intrigued me about Erucesni was that for him, the bed was not an option for sex. In the 13 weeks we were fucking, we never once did it in a bed. For him, the bed was ONLY for sleeping.
Weeks of fucking, good sex – pun fully intended. One thing I could not stand about Erucesni though, was how insecure he was about his dick game. He never thought it was good for me. Why? I don’t know; perhaps baggage from his marriage. We’d have sex and afterwards he’d be asking me all these questions about how good it was. I remember one weekend he asked me to show him what I like and how I like it, so I did. Even after I had a toe-curling orgasm, he still thought he could have made it better. I really had to ask him, “Baby, do you not believe in the fire we make?” He assured me that the sex was great for him but that he doesn’t want a case where I am sexually dissatisfied and bounce to another dick.
Exhausted at having to convince him that the sex was really good, that I wasn’t lacking any sexual nutrients, I called things quits with him. Think of this as two lessons in one. Firstly, not every day lie down in bed. Switch things up! I loved how creative Erucesni would get and the different surfaces we made work, just to have him inside of me. And – possibly more importantly – insecurity isn’t sexy, guys. It’s so important to want to please your partner, so asking questions is great. When it becomes a post-coital interview every time, it’s kinda tiring. I might reconsider fucking you cos baby girls don’t want to fill surveys after every orgasm.
It was tough saying bye to Erucesni. The next few days without him were a little difficult without my daily dose of dick but I bounced back shortly after…
Grade: 6.2/10. He was exciting but all that sexual baggage from his former marriage bugged me. Be confident about your dick game, please.