While I was away for a few days renting an Airstream off Airbnb, I matched with Scott.
He was in the military and based nine kilometres away. The Airstream was tucked away in a secluded and private corner of a farm and had its own hot tub. It was the perfect place to finish the book I’d started writing a few years ago but never had any time to write at home what with omnipresent work and mum duties.
Scott was 28, 14 years my junior, handsome and buff. He had a couple of pictures of him playing golf on his profile and looked pretty ordinary. He was verified so I gave him the green light when he suggested chatting on WhatsApp. He came over the following evening.
He was way more handsome in person, and taller, and buffer. Within about 10 minutes we’d stripped off and were in the hot tub chatting. And 10 minutes after that I was straddling him and water was spilling over the sides of the hot tub.
The energy intensified and we enjoyed a few positions in, and perched on, the tub. He put his hand gently on my throat, which I immediately relocated. He was surprised I didn’t like it. Then he gave it another go a bit later. Again, this was swiftly amended. It’s pretty sad that so many young men think that this kind of domination is a turn on.
But, while the athleticism of the sex was top notch, there was a distinct lack of sensuality. When I suggested sitting on his face, he sort of wriggled away and changed position. And when I asked him whether he liked pleasuring a woman in that way, he admitted, ‘I only do that once I’ve got to know someone’.
‘But it’s OK for me to go down on you?!’
‘Yes,’ he smirked.
Instead, he was fixated on fingering me so hard I squirted everywhere. This he took pride in doing four times. But he didn’t touch my clit once.
Then, he tried inserting his well-endowed penis into my bum hole. I explained, after the word ‘ow’, that you really need a bit of lube and a finger to loosen things up before going for it with your knob.
Problem was, this endeavour had forced some air into my rear end and when it relaxed, a trickle of poo came out on the bed. We laughed it off. Now he’s showing some maturity, I thought! And I told him that technically it was his fault anyway. He agreed.
As I pulled the sheet up, he had a shower, and then said he was heading off, but promised it wasn’t because I shat the bed; he needed to get a good night’s sleep before golfing in the morning.
I figured he wasn’t completely grossed out when he clasped my face in both his hands and gave me a nice big kiss and a cuddle goodbye, and we bid one another farewell with a giggle.