The Worst Sex Yet

The Setup

Call me shallow. Maybe I am. But I’ve been spoilt. Tattoo Man, Bodybuilder, The Mechanic, they’re all 10 out of 10s, and I’ve had the absolute joy of playing with them. Honestly, how lucky am I?

But I’ve always said, and I mean it, that variety is important. Connection matters more to me than just a perfect body. So when Chubby messaged, I was open.

He was 6ft, chunky, and had the loveliest smile. He drove up from London for a drink, and we chatted like old friends, with a cheeky, flirty current running underneath everything. Standing next to our cars afterward, the sexual tension was thick in the air. He wanted to kiss me. I tilted my head so he kissed my neck instead. His hands were on my waist, and he was literally and figuratively begging for more. It took all my self-control not to give in there and then.

We arranged a play date for Friday. 8pm. But life had other plans. By 7.50, my mum hadn’t left, the kids weren’t asleep, I hadn’t showered, and I was running on empty after a week of sick kids and work stress. His text saying he’d be there at 8.30 gave me just enough space to breathe and get myself together.

He finally arrived at 9.45pm.

By then, I was knackered. My period had started and was heavy and painful (thank god for Beppys), and I felt this strong sense of obligation because he’d driven all that way again.

The Encounter

Here’s where the shallow part kicks in. Maybe.

He didn’t know I was on my period, but still no effort to touch me. No attempt to get me off or even ask what I liked. It was all about him. He wanted oral, and gave multiple instructions to lick his balls, lick his arse. Now, I’m not saying ass play is totally off-limits, but I’m certainly not going there on a first meet.

And physically... I don’t even know where to start.

He had the smallest balls I’ve ever seen, honestly, I wasn’t even sure I could find them. His nipples were huge and weirdly pepperoni-like, and not in a sexy way. He was hairy, which I usually love but he’d completely shaved his pubic area and his arse, which just made me laugh. Not in a cute way.

It wasn’t the fact he was overweight. That truly wasn’t the issue. It was everything else.

I couldn’t even cum on top. That’s a first.

The Letdown

And just when I thought it might be salvaged by some tenderness, or even a post-fuck text saying thanks or even just checking in, instead I get this, the next morning:

“Morning. So can you meet verify me?”

That’s it.

No “thank you.” No “I had a nice time.” Nothing.

And that’s when I knew - I’m done.

They can’t all be winners. But if the sex is going to be bad and the guy isn’t even gorgeous, then honestly? What’s the point? If I’m going to be disappointed, I’d rather be looking at someone stunning while it happens.

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