After the eventful evening that was meeting up with & fuckin’ the ever energetic Mr. PB along side the very chill regular thing we had setup with him,  X & I were feeling pretty confident in our ability to pick play things for our weekend activities. In my humble experience, that’s usually when the universe decides to throw you a curve ball…just to make sure you’re paying attention and not getting too cocky. Cue the entrance of Mr. Mackey. 

We had stumbled across each other through the usual slutty channels and while I’m very sure I presented our situation exactly how it was…men (at least around here) tend to do this thing where they sell you on one thing and bring something TOTALLY different to the table, like cat-fishing but with a lack of personality instead of a lack of looks. That last sentence sums up Mr. Mackey pretty fuckin’ well. 

The first night we started talking, he seemed like a fun, well adjusted (to my very particular specifications) human being. Without any real prompting from me, I was offered fantasies of getting my pussy absolutely devoured & then being treated to a home cooked meal. That is so far from what happened that even for our first and only meet up, it’s laughable. If I’m telling you I just wanna have a night where we mutually use each other’s bodies to get off (for the additional viewing pleasure of X), you really don’t have to sell me any further, bro. You’ve closed the deal, stop while ahead unless you can back up your bark with one hell of a bite. 

While Past Me didn’t fully expect a five course meal with my pussy as dessert, I did expect it to be meeting up with somewhat the same cheery human I was presented with over text. Past Me is usually a dumb bitch. We set a date to meet up for dinner, drinks and debauchery. As suddenly as he had appeared, the interesting, chatty fucker I’d be interacting with for the last day and a half…evaporated. As in we set a date & he didn’t say a damn thing afterwards. I have a nasty habit of teasing my dates with pics, vids & of course dirty talk for whatever time is in between meeting & meeting up. What can I say? I’m a pretty big fan of foreplay, especially back then since it was so lacking in my relationship with X. So this really should have been Mr. Mackey’s second red flag, all be it a more me-specific one. I tried to ignore the initial crimson banners he threw up, as one does when they don’t know or weren’t taught any better and before we knew it, the day had arrived. 

We were waiting at our usual dive bar, anxious to lay eyes upon tonight’s shiny new toy. After sitting around for a couple hours, I decided to double check with him that we were still going to be meeting up after he got off work. He replied with a short “Yup” & we went back to waiting…with no word as to when he would actually be showing up. Like any other couple in this situation, we started to think the guy got cold feet. No sooner had we decided to fuck off & head home, chalking the whole situation up to bad judgement & luck, I received a text from him. He’d just gotten out of work & would be (finally) meeting up with us by 10 or so. Ooookay. As annoyed as I was…from what I’d seen his dick was huge. I could wait a little longer. If there was a theme for our first year in the lifestyle, it was that I’ll tolerate some rudeness for a fat cock. 

Mr. Mackey finally graced us with his presence and walked through the dive bar doors around 10:15ish, looking exactly how you’d think someone who just got off a long shift would look. No judgement from me, I come from and will always be a part of the working class. But I think X & I were both surprised he decided to show up at all. The usual boring chit-chat takes place. Despite my best efforts to pull the happy-go-lucky dude he’d presents himself as when we initially met out of his shell, he was insanely awkward the entire time. As I’ve said before: the situation is only as awkward as the people involved make it & clearly Mr. Mackey was out of his comfort zone & didn’t really care or notice how he was coming off. This is another one of these “hindsight is 20/20” things: we should have dipped out immediately after this because trudging through all that cumbersome vanilla world small talk bullshit is never worth the outcome.

After seeking reassurances from the night’s entertainment that they were still interested in taking the night further, X paid our tab & we decided to hop to the next fine liquor license owning establishment. Which turned out to be an even darker, smaller dive bar with dollar bills stapled…well, everywhere a drunk person of average height probably couldn’t reach. I could barely remember the name of it the first time I sat down to write this entry and I sure as fuck can’t remember it now nor do I think even they’d want their bar linked to a book like this. 

The small talk dragged on until I got bored & drunk enough to blurt out the question I’m sure everyone was wondering: was there any need to grab a hotel for the nights activities or had we decided to go our separate ways after the new tab was paid? Mr. Mackey perked up at the question, suddenly seeming a bit more enthusiastic than he had all evening & declared the hotel was probably the best course of action. After running all the usual pre-fuck errands, with Mr. Mackey grabbing the drinks while we grabbed the condoms, everyone ended up at the hotel we’d decided on before leaving the dollar bill bar. We secured our room and quickly made our way to it, wasting no time getting undressed once the heavy door shut behind us.

After giving his thick member a taste, I ripped open & rolled a condom onto his half-hard cock, questioning out loud whether or not he was still as into the idea of playing as I was. After some more quick assurances from him that he was fully on-board with everything going on, I climbed on top & tried to ignore the ever-lingering gut feeling of doom I had. 

“I really should just enjoy the fat cock pumping deep inside my pussy”, I thought to myself. And as much as I could with that feeling in the pit of my stomach, I did. I rode him until he splattered the thin layer of latex between us with his would-be baby batter, with him letting out little more than a sigh & a pained facial expression as he came. As I rolled off of him in a sweaty mess from doing the equivalent of (probably) 300+ extremely fast paced squats, I managed to catch a glimpse of X looking fairly… bored to be honest. This is when I really started to question if either party in the room besides me were on the same page in terms of enjoyment.

He had turned on the TV to drown me out initially. To keep my loud screams & moans as muffled from the neighboring rooms as he could, but it was clear he was more into watching the show than observing anything happening on the bed. And X hated South Park…so he was clearly doing anything to distract from the very situation he’d been asked to be included in. I knew the sex had been bad, but I didn’t think it had been that horrible… I brushed it off and to be honest, I sorta didn’t blame him. At times I had felt damn near like I was fuckin’ one of those bizarre headless sex dolls. No limbs or appendages, only torso, cock & balls. I had noticed it while bobbing up on down on that oversized meat stick between Mr. Mackey’s legs, but figured it was just a glance on X’s part, not a full focus. And I’ll admit, I was also a little too preoccupied with my own pleasure to give a shit about what X was doing. Mr. Mackey’s dick was pulling the payload I thought we were both after so I was lost in the sexy sauce for a bit there. 

I had been pretty spoiled up to this point in my life with sexual partners who could (usually) go multiple rounds or at least make the first round last longer than 10 minutes. And working within this sort of slut logic, I figured round two wasn’t far behind. After a quick breather, I started sucking & playing with his thick dick in hopes of getting it hard for another go. I slipped on another condom, halfheartedly hoping it would also act as a cock ring & pulled him on top of and inside of me. As he did his thing, I struggled with not SCREAMING at him to fuck me harder after moaning it a dozen or more times. Whether he was stuck inside of his own head or just really bad at sex and taking instructions during it, I was regretting ever trying for another go. All Mr. Mackey seemed capable of was the same mediocre stroke game everyone brings to the table before they know better or care to learn. It wasn’t the worst I’ve ever had, but certainly didn’t even crack the top 100 for the best. 

I’m sure the feeling was mutual.

Being the stubborn pervert I am, I tried my best to get back into it, but eventually got distracted enough by the episode of South Park X had playing on the room’s TV that I thought it best to call it quits. I was trying to use this new found freedom as a means to find fun while giving X a show and it was being made crystal clear no one was having much fun at this point. As we got dressed, exchanged pleasantries & gathered our respective piles of things (beer for him, vodka & the huge roll of condoms for me), once again the awkward crept back into the room like a thick fog or bad smell you can’t locate the source of. 

Even though I realized this was one fuck I would NOT have to worry about coming back for seconds, I still tried to remain polite – something the current version of me wouldn’t have even thought to do because the second he showed any hesitation I would have ended the date. But the version of me that I was in this moment was still hellbent on pleasing X & still thoroughly convinced he was in this much as I was. I was trying to trust him & take X at face value, which I would learn in due time was a fruitless endeavor in and of itself. 

And as disappointed as I was about not having access to the gloriously-sized piece of flesh that flapped between Mr. Mackey’s legs, I found even Past Me was quite happy to never see him again.

I had managed to fuck the human equivalent of a bland bowl of oatmeal and not die of boredom. I had also started to realize something that’s pretty key to being in the lifestyle. To sum it up with & put a spin on one of my favorite John Water’s quotes: sometimes boring and a big dick AREN’T enough…