As you know we DID meet up. It was already terribly late and there was nothing to do but do directly to a hotel that he was forking over the money to get. Having been recently released from jail for some kind of conviction regarding sexual crimes with an underage girl (he said it was totally bogus) he didn’t have a job yet, so he either borrowed the money from his younger brother as he said; or he stole it from his mother’s pocketbook while she was distracted by driving him to meet me at the hotel. Whatever.
He didn’t look bad at all. Shaved head, tattoo, a piercing or two. He was as muscular as he’d claimed he was on the phone; you know, nicely built without being intimidating. Hmph. This was going to be a good night.
We went into the room and he didn’t waste a moment getting busy. A couple of perfunctory kisses and he was ready to fulfill all his promises about making my body feel like it was his favorite platter of food. OH MY! I relaxed into his groove and let him live out all his pent up jailbird fantasies…
Things were actually great until he was ready to be reciprocated. PLEASE don’t get me wrong. If you’ve been following me up until now you will remember that I can’t think of anything I love more than giving a good blow job. So I didn’t balk at the idea of doing that…it’s just that it was hard for me to believe that I was really and truly the only person he’d been with since he’d completed his sentence a few days ago. And Lord only knows where he might have been putting that thing while he was actually locked up!
Still, it seemed only fair that one should give as well as take; and Archangel really had been a perfect angel. I debated with myself. I decided against it; then vacillated. Oh, what the heck! Might as well…
But when he pulled down his boxers I was confronted with something I’d never beheld before: an 8 ½ in BANANA. No, really. It was a perfectly curved banana that was so shocking that I couldn’t even go through with it. It not only curved right in the middle, but came to a tapered conclusion right at the head. This was more than I could take.
As long as his hypnotic voice had been sowing in my mind visions of chocolate, caramel, and ice cream and all the fun and dangerous things that could be done with them it was all good fun. But having this banana sticking up in my face like it wanted to be made into a banana split just made me nauseous.
In the end I just went home. He had to find his own way back to wherever he lived.
- Banana Split (or “Why I ran away Lickety Split!”) part 1 (sexgonewrong.wordpress.com)
- Cupcake, Sushi, & Frozen Yoghurt Fetish (youmination.com)
- What does come taste like? (Blowjob flavors) (callgirlsecrets.wordpress.com)
- Here Is a Woman Who Says That Thinking About Popeyes Chicken Helps Her Achieve Orgasm (gawker.com)