After my night out with "Mr. First-time", I had a second date lined up for Saturday night with a guy bearing a USMC tattoo on his bicep. A Marine, how interesting. I like a man in uniform, although, don't all women? He talked to me like a person, not an object, and seemed to be interested in who I really am.
His emails always used nice phrases that were very complimentary. I'm quite the word nerd, so someone that is a smooth talker like him always catches my attention. He reminds me of a friend I had about eight years ago that was a Navy SEAL. That man could talk his way into all sorts of interesting situations, but that's another blog post. He also mentioned that he was short, but I said I didn't care and forgot about it.
That night, we were supposed to meet at one of the local upscale chains that had cafes and wine bars. I got to the wine bar, looked around for a little bit, but I didn't see him. After a few minutes, I texted him, "I'm out front, blue dress". He responded, "I'm out front, blue shirt". So I looked around again and didn't see him. I was starting to get flustered, and as I scanned the street around the place, I saw an awning across the intersection that had the same name as the place I was at. They had built a wine bar and a cafe on opposite corners of an intersection. The waiter guy next to me said it happens all the time. A quick phone call later, my date was heading my way across the road. As he approached, he seemed to distort in my vision, like he was leaning way back. When he got close, I realized that he was very short, so much that it threw off my sense of perspective. I had totally forgotten this detail, and wore some nice platform sandals that put me at about 6'4", and a foot taller than my date. I felt really dumb for not remembering.
We went to the cafe, bought iced coffees and went outside to find a table. The weather was absolutely perfect, warm but not muggy, a light breeze, with just a few clouds obscuring the stars. We sat at a corner table away from the other two tables full of giggly teenagers. We talked about all sorts of things, and it turns out we have a lot in common. After a couple of hours, the lights had been turned out and everyone else had left. We decided to go for a walk, since it was a really nice part of town. I made sure to stop by my car first where I had some flats, which helped a lot. I don't like feeling like a freak, and towering over my date was definitely pushing my freak buttons. We walked around and talked some more. He asked about my experience as a trans-woman, what it was like to go through the whole process, and how I felt about things now. I felt good walking around with him, like I could open up to him and not be judged. He seemed truly interested in my feelings and experiences.
He suggested that we go somewhere and get a drink, so we got into his car and drove around for a little while. We eventually found a nice bar full of people in suits and other formal attire. We got some drinks and sat outside at the patio of the bar next door, away from all the drunks. They all basically ignored us except to say "Excuse me" as they staggered past. He told me some funny stories about things from his time in the Marines, like how he chickened out when it came time to jump out of an airplane and his sergeant just kicked him out the door. He was a really nice guy, not a big ego, and no Napoleon complex either. He might have been several inches shorter than me, but he was broader across the shoulders and thicker through the chest. His upper body was chiseled out of wood. We finished our drinks and went back to his car. In the car we kissed for a few minutes, and decided to head back to his place.
We picked up my car and I followed him to his townhouse. While he grabbed us some beer from the fridge, I made friends with his dog, a super friendly pit-bull mix. We took a few sips from our bottles of beer and started kissing again. Clothes were quickly shed, kissing and groping quickly resumed. He kissed me down my body, stopping to torment a nipple, and then on down to my legs. He hooked his arms around my thighs and pulled me forward to the edge of the couch and started devouring my pussy. I've come to realize that I have no idea what a skilled lover is like, as I have no basis for comparison. It felt really good, but somewhat rushed.
After a few minutes, we changed positions so I could go down on him. I noticed then that he was uncut, and had a rather pointy glans. It was different than most I've seen, so I took my time to get to know it. I pulled the skin all the way back and took the head of his cock into my mouth. I licked it all around, tonguing at the slit, nibbling at the loose skin underneath. He moaned in pleasure and lightly held my head. I started bobbing up and down, licking the underside of his shaft and suckling at the head. I found all the extra skin to be fascinating and had an idea. I wrapped my lips around the base and sucked while pulling back, making the skin as taut as possible when my lips reached the head. I then circled his dick with my index finger and thumb and pulled away from my mouth, maintaining suction as the skin pulled through my lips. I found a rhythm and continued with my new technique. The noises coming out of my Marine were absolutely unintelligible. He made me stop after a few minutes, he said he couldn't hold back another second. He wanted to fuck me, right now. I quickly put a condom on him (yay) and he went to town.
We started off easy, giving me time to figure out my own limits and what angles worked best for me to avoid bottoming out painfully. We had sex in so many positions, I can't remember them all. I rode on top of him on the couch, one foot on the floor, one foot on the couch, until I was about to come, and promptly got a major leg cramp. I laid back on the couch, back arching over the edge of the side section, and he railed me until I started to slide off the couch. I had an idea, there are a lot of yoga postures I want to try as sex positions, and his height seemed to go well with one of them. I stood up in front of him, spread my legs a couple of feet apart, and bent over backwards into a proper back arch. He entered me again, but the angle was difficult. It felt amazing, my chi was seriously flowing, but I couldn't focus enough to hold the back arch for very long. He told me to lie on the edge of the couch again, head and shoulders hanging off the couch. He stood by my head, and slowly pulled my legs up until I was on the floor on my shoulders, ass pointing at the sky, legs dangling over my head. He pushed his cock inside me, and my position gave me a great view of the action. He was slamming against me, and I was loving it, the angle was perfect. I could watch his manhood sliding in and out of my sopping wet pussy and was absolutely overloaded with sensation. He slid a finger up my tight little anus and wiggled it around, telling me he could feel his cock sliding in and out of my cunt with it. I don't think I had an orgasm in my regular sense, I just felt wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure and joy. He humped away until he came, in short, powerful bursts, finally burying himself fully inside me for a few moments, then pulling out. He helped me to my feet and we kissed deeply while holding each other tight.
We took a few sips from our beers and he looked at the clock. "We've been going at it for over two hours." "I could go again if we had more time, that was amazing." But there was no more time, it was past 4:00 in the morning. I needed to let my dog out, and wanted to sleep in my own bed. We kissed some more, and called it a night. I gathered my things, patted his dog's head (who had been watching us the whole time from the corner), we exchanged pleasantries, and I left. We both definitely wanted to do that again. He didn't get to see me come, and I think there are a lot of possibilities in our physical relationship. I drove home, feeling warm and happy inside, and a little bit slutty. I had just screwed two guys in the span of 28 hours, and realized that I didn't even have a proper first name for my second date. I knew the name that was on his email account, but never asked what the initials stood for. It didn't matter in the least. It turns out that when I am with someone, they are all that really exists in my world in that moment. I never say their name, as they always know that I'm speaking only to them. Waitresses, hotel attendants, bouncers, whatever, they're all just furniture in my scene. I treat them all very pleasantly, but my focus is on the person I'm with. I think it comes from my maternal instincts and practices, but men seem to love it. Maybe I'm actually kind of good at this whole dating thing, or maybe I'm a cheap whore. I'm still deciding.
Republished with permission from Nails by Natasha. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.