It’s been a while. It’s been too fucking long since I had fucking sex. I am going crazy. I am itching to get laid. I masturbate multiple times a day and consume all kinds of pornography. I have a gang bang phase directly followed by an anal phase. I’ve even started checking out gay porn! I go through the triple-A batteries that belong in my vibrator as quickly as someone on ecstasy goes through a pack of gum. It’s been like this for a while, a sense of restlessness pervading my everyday life. It’s gotten so bad that I am on the verge of convincing myself that seeing my ex-boyfriend again is a good idea!
Cut to last night, 9pm. Ruby calls me up and asks me if I want to go out. I agree and mention ever so casually that I need to get laid. That means going to the tunnel. The tunnel is a nightclub from hell, and unfortunately the only thing open past a certain hour in this town.
So that’s it, I’ve decided to go on the hunt. I’m really going to pull out all the stops. While I am getting ready I put on some lingerie. Black lace body, stay-up stockings. The body unbuttons at the bottom, so that I don’t even need to take off any clothes to have sex (or go to the bathroom for that matter). The top of the body is low cut and ever so slightly see-through, with thin back straps that cross over a plunge in the back.
I haven’t dressed like this in a while…
I decide to pair the ensemble with a skirt so short you can see my ass half the time, a little black cardigan and my beige trench coat. Because I don’t want to carry around a handbag on the dance floor, the only things I take in my pockets are my keys, a credit card and an assortment of condoms. I’ve finished half a bottle of wine in the time it’s taken me to get ready, and I feel great!
It’s 11pm when I get to town, and my Ruby is walking towards me. “Perfect timing, bitch”, she says and we hug and head to Spider, a trendy little cocktail bar. Our friend Helena joins us after finishing work and I enlighten the girls on my plans to get laid. It’s a curious thing that whenever my girlfriends and I hang out, all we ever really talk about it sex.
After a couple of drinks, two more bars and a stop at the local junk food place for deep fried cheese and french fries, we finally hit the tunnel.
It’s busy in there, but the real rush is going to start soon, when all the other bars close.
It must be some kind of crazy coincidence/gift from heaven above, and I still cannot believe this happened, but the club is full of English rugby players. Apparently they are some team from Leeds who have come to play here. If there is ever a fantasy that drove me crazy, it’s having sex with male rugby players (preferably lots of them at once).
(Sidenote: come to think of it, female rugby players are what got me into the sport in the first place, so they can be in my fantasy too)
Anyway, there is this guy. Jarred, Jerry, Jarrod or something. He’s got tattoos up his big bulky arms, and he’s very direct. He buys me and my friends some beers, (which I really appreciate, because I am kind of broke). We go for a cigarette and get to talking. Well, you can hardly call it talking, it’s more of a “shouting at each other over the noise” kind of thing.
I believe one reason it’s so easy to get laid at the tunnel is that you can never hear what anyone is saying. Most people are idiots, but that is something I would rather find out AFTER I have slept with them, other-wise: “bye bye lady boner”!
Jarrod, Ruby, Jared and I head back to the dance floor, and all of a sudden we are kissing. Like you just do in clubs when you dance with someone and there is this inevitable eye-locking moment. In any case, he starts putting his hand under my skirt. Realizing that I am wearing stockings, he is delighted with the easy access angle and proceeds to try and finger me right on the dance floor. I back away saying that people may see. Then he grabs my hand and puts it on his crotch, and I can feel his dick, and it’s hard, and something just comes over me, and I have to get out of here and have sex with this guy I barely know.
I grab his hand and pull him out of the nightclub, light up a cigarette and ask him to come home with me.
So far so smooth - only problem his, he can’t. His rugby team is staying in a hotel in a neighboring town and he won’t be able to get back there on his own or something. I really don’t want him sleeping over anyway, so it’s definitely not an option. He asks me to come back to the hotel with him, but I am much to broke to even think about a cab ride home from miles away. My heart sinks as I imagine myself missing out on this opportunity to have sex with, what I am pretty sure felt like a big fucking dick.
Then I realize it’s warm out, I know this town, so I ought make something of this chance to cross one off the bucket list.
I take his hand and lead him out of the street the nightclub is in. As I am walking ahead of him he shouts at me to lift my skirt, exposing my bare ass underneath. I do so, and I hear a couple of his friends cheering on in approval. Oh how I wish I could take them all with me.
We cross the central square of my town and I point to a round stage set up in the middle of it, where bands sometimes perform.
“Let’s do it there”!
It is a testament to how drunk I am at this point that I think this is a good idea.
Luckily the man is a little more sensible and leads me around to a dark secluded area behind the catholic church.
We climb over a fence and down some stairs and have now found a pretty good spot. This first thing I do once we are down there is drop to my knees in front of him and open his jeans.
Jackpot. The thing is massive.
I start sucking him off, first slowly, then deep-throating a little. He grabs the hair at the back of my head and thrusts back an forth. I love the feeling of being face-fucked like a good little whore.
Eventually, he tells me to get up and face the wall. I hand him a condom, and he proceeds to put it on and fuck me from behind. It’s awesome, but it’s not an easy feet when you are drunk.
He goes to sit down on a stone bench and asks me to ride him, which I do. It’s been so long since I had a well sized dick in me, I feel like I am in slut-heaven.
He takes off my top while I am riding him, leaving me now completely exposed in a not-so well hidden street. At some point a car drives by, but I really couldn’t care less.
When he is close to cumming, he makes me get up off him. I kneel down on the floor in front of him as he ejaculates all over my bare chest. I lick the tip of his dick and smile.
I put my coat back on over my naked body, finding it a bit hard to sort out all the complicated underwear and finding clothes. I’m still wearing shoes and stockings, which is all you really need with a trench coat.
On the way back to the nightclub, he asks me some questions about myself, like what I do and how old I am. When we reach the nightclub, I kiss him good bye and leave him with his friends.
All the way home I can feel the fresh breeze on my naked pussy.
When I wake up the next day, I am hungover, and my pussy is sore. I have that muscle ache in my upper thighs that I only get from sex and I am still covered in dried up ejaculate.
For the first time in weeks, that terrible, nagging, restless feeling is gone. For the first time in forever I don’t feel horny. I don’t want to see my ex boyfriend anymore. I just want to shower and go for coffee with my girls.
When I meet with Ruby that next morning and I am telling her about the events of the night, I feel like I am on top of the world. I am the queen of the whores, the ruler of sluts.
I just feel bad for those churchgoers who must have arrived this Sunday morning to find their entrance littered with condoms and whatever clothes I forgot to pick up.
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