How Angel Finally Did It - Sex Stories

How Angel Finally Did It

What’s a girl to do? Men are all the same. They'll soften you up with dinners and flowers and chocolates and flattery, and just when you're ready to open your heart to them, they pry your legs apart and shove their dick into your cunt. Wham bam thank you Ma’am. Take this guy here. Charlie. We're in a fancy restaurant. He's looking over the bill finding out the evening has been more expensive than he had planned, and now he's thinking how he's going to cash in on me. Watch this. 'How about we go to my place for a nightcap?' See? Saw that one coming from a mile away. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy a good fuck as much as the next girl. But why does it always have to be on men's terms? I mean, where do I come in? What makes men think that my lifelong dream is to get dry-fucked for three minutes flat in a creaky bed with unwashed sheets by a sweaty overweight paper pusher with a stinky dick and toilet breath? And all that for a fifty dollar meal and lousy small talk? A hooker won't blow a guy for that. I'm past the romance and love you forever thing. Those promises peter out as fast as their dicks shrink inside your cum-drenched cunt. All I want from a guy now is to get off my way. But there's the problem. My way is not exactly the ordinary way. I mean, come on, ordinary sex is downright boring. Getting your cunt fumbled by clumsy fingers and then hump away as if at least one of you had a train to catch, I pass for that. Give me hot dirty sex. And I mean dirty! Give me a guy who is ...

... willing to go down on me, who will let me crawl and squat all over him, impregnate him with my odours, smear him with my juices. A guy who will surrender his mouth to me so I can give him a taste of all my stinking orifices. A mouth to snot and bleed into. Spray him with my urine, stuff him with my shit. I swear, the guy who wants a piece of my ass had better be prepared to get a good chunk of it. My way. 'Just a nightcap? We can have a nightcap here.' 'I got a cosy place. We'd be all alone. Whatever you're in the mood for.' 'Whatever I'm in the mood for? Uh uh, I don't think so.' His smile turns wry. He's thinking about the bill he just paid. 'W-why not?' 'Because I don't think you're ready for what I'm in the mood for.' He's puzzled. He's curious. I bet something is stirring inside his pants too. He wants it, whatever it is. Can't be that bad. Or can it? I confuse him. 'What are you in the mood for, then?' 'Don't ask. You don't wanna know.' 'But I do.' 'Uh uh you don't.' He's thinking, what on earth can she be talking about. There's only room for sex in his mind and he's laying out scenarios. Maybe I'll whip his ass. Tie him to the bed. Kinky, he likes that. Don't get that often from a woman. 'Tell me.' 'What's your favourite fantasy?' That confuses him even more. Women don't talk about sex. They'll sparingly give it out if you spin enough of the romantic yarn around them. 'M-my favourite fantasy? Uhm, I... I don't have fantasies.' He's only talked about sex with men. It's ...