You can feel the itch starting, the one that masturbation alone just won’t satisfy. The itch that begins in your groin but then quickly moves throughout your body until all you can think about is your urgent need to get laid. You need a good, hard cock in your cunt to alleviate the anxiety that has begun to grow. You need to fuck.
You don’t have a Little Black Book, but you do have the phone numbers of a handful of mediocre guys on whom you can rely to get you laid. There is a guy for every mood depending on the sort of fuck you’re seeking and right now you want it fast and dirty. Wham bam, thank you, sir! Your go-to guy for this is the Advertising Agent who is crushing on you and can never last more than ten minutes. But he’s sweet and a good lay, so you keep him around for days just like today.
“I’m coming over and you’re going to fuck me,” you text him. Already you feel the anxiety beginning to fade, but then your phone buzzes with a message from the Advertising Agent apologizing profusely for having a date. You growl and light a cigarette, pushing aside the mild sense of hurt that has suddenly hatched. You scroll through your phone to find the Cook’s number. If I can’t have it fast and dirty then I can at least have it dirty, you think.
“I’m coming over and you’re going to fuck me,” you text the Cook and his response is almost instantaneous.
“Oh yeah? How?”
The little fucker, you think. He knows perfectly well how, but you play his game and write back. “You’re going to force feed me your cock before pinning me down and fucking me until I beg you to stop.” There’s a few beats before his reply comes in: “Sounds hot. But I can’t — working.”
You let out a string of expletives and hurl your phone onto your bed. Pouring yourself a Jack and Coke you pace your office, avoiding looking at the laptop that sits open on your desk with the empty Word document displayed on the screen. The blinking curser that is waiting for you to begin your next masterpiece is getting impatient, you think, and is starting to doubt your abilities. You don’t want to admit that you're blocked — again — and have gotten it into your head that a good fuck is just what you need to get the creative juices flowing once more.
After downing half your Jack and Coke you feel less angry, but your libido is raging even more now. Picking up your phone you browse through your contacts to see who else you can proposition. In a wild fury of desperation, you briefly consider calling up your ex whose heart you broke and who you know still has feelings for you. It would be as simple as popping up at his place and putting your hand on his cock, but you wisely stop and consider the aftermath of an impulsive decision like that and decide you are not yet that desperate.
A thought dawns on you: this is the 21st century. This is the age of dating websites and hook-up apps. You’ve never had much luck with those things, but your standards are fairly low at the moment. Any able bodied man who is even remotely attractive will do and there are enough of those in this city, you’re sure. With a renewed excitement, you get to work and go through the matches you have on Tinder. These are all guys you find remotely attractive, but largely ignore until moments like now. You pick one who calls himself Sesame and though you groan inwardly at the name, you have to admire his dirty blonde hair and thin lips.
“Let’s fuck. Right now,” you message him and then stand staring at the screen awaiting a reply. When none comes, you scroll down to find another. Alvaro is a Spaniard with whom you’ve had a few lines of conversation in his native tongue. You send him the same message and a minute later he replies, “Ok.”
You can’t help but beam as you chug the last of your Jack and Coke and arrange to meet him at the coffee shop you frequent within the hour. A quick meet and greet to ensure he is who he claims to be is all you need before inviting him up to your place. An hour is the fastest he could arrive and though you’ve waiting longer for sex in past, this is agonising. You go through the motions, fixing yourself up to look presentable enough and fix another Jack and Coke which you down faster than expected. You light a cigarette and go through five more before the clock deems it an acceptable time to head to the coffee shop and, elated, you escape your apartment.
Alvaro is already there when you arrive five minutes before your assigned time. You find yourself smiling at him and vaguely hope that you don’t reek of desperation. Plopping down in front of him you give him a brief and subtle once over and approve of his shaggy brown hair and clouded eyes. His teeth are a little crooked and stained by nicotine, but you even find that a little endearing.
“Así que quieres follar, eh,” Alvaro says grinning, his voice is husky and attractive. You find yourself smiling in spite of yourself. You’re always glad when you meet someone who embraces your promiscuity rather than questions it and Alvaro seems nothing but flattered by your proposition. You briefly consider adding him to your roster before catching yourself and deciding that you’d better see how he performs first.
“Vamos,” you instruct, getting up and heading out the door.
Alvaro casually follows you to your apartment and within minutes the two of you are naked in your bed, but as only your luck would have it, Alvaro cannot keep it up. Despite multiple blow jobs his penis remains infuriatingly limp and after a half hour of trying to get it up you quit and ask him to leave.
Alone and aroused you are now in a worst state than before. Your pussy is literally throbbing. You masturbate and the orgasm feels great, but it doesn’t satisfy your insatiable need for a real cock. You resort once more to the internet for help and find yourself browsing single men in search of casual sex on OKCupid. This is all in vain, you start to think as you scroll past face after face until you stop at a familiar one. Satyr is his screen name and you vaguely remember some hardcore flirting with this suitor months ago. His real name escapes you, but the erotic conversation lingers in your mind and you immediately send him a message.
“Fuck me right now,” you write then fling the phone away from you and light a cigarette. You’re starting to lose hope and you wonder if there’s another way to satisfy this itch which has become a monkey on your back when your phone buzzes with a new message from Satyr.
“Time and place please,” it says and you scramble to reply.
“Yours in thirty,” you write back and leap up to find your clothes. A new message buzzes in as you finish getting dressed with nothing but an address. You find it is only a few blocks from you and after freshen up and washing away the taste of Alvaro, you’re out the door to meet Satyr. The address he gave you is to a low rise building and when you arrive you are greeted by a man in thick framed glasses and messy auburn hair whom you recognize as Satyr.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hey,” you reply following him through the main door and into the elevator.
With the closing of the elevator doors, Satyr’s arms are around you and his lips on yours. You’re surprised to find he is a good kisser — forceful and experienced — and you happily kiss back, enjoying the thrill of an elevator make out. When the sixth floor is announced, the doors slide open and taking your hand, Satyr leads you down a winding hallway to an unlocked bachelor apartment. Once inside you waste no time and peel off your dress which he takes as an invitation to remove his shirt and pants before pushing you onto his bed.
“Get those panties off,” he orders and you silently obey. His fingers reach down to your cunt which is soaking and you find yourself hoping he’s pleased by your wetness. He kisses you and begins moving his mouth down the length of your body, but you stop him before he can enjoy your pussy.
“Don’t bother with that. Just stick it in already.”
Standing up he walks over to the dresser across from the bed to get a condom and while putting it on he watches you writhing on his bed and says, “You’re really hot.”
The innocence and sweetness of the comment makes you laugh which in turns makes him smile and it’s this quite lovely smile you are staring at when he climbs atop you and pushes his erect penis into your waiting cunt. Your eyes flutter closed in immense pleasure. He pounds you, somehow knowing that that is exactly what you were craving and you can’t help but smile as your nails trail marks along his muscular arms. Satisfaction washes over you and you open your eyes to see Satyr’s eyes twinkling at your enjoyment before letting them flutter closed again.
“I’m going to cum,” he whispers shortly after and you nod, the smile of satisfaction stuck to your face and gets wider when you hear the pleasured moans of Satyr’s ejaculation. He remains on top of you for a few seconds, then kisses your lips, cheek and neck before sliding out of you. The itch now scratched, you find your mind able to think clearly again and prose start flowing out like water across a broken dam. You manage to find your clothes in record speed and are about to head out the door when you stop and turn to Satyr.
“What’s your name?” you ask him.
“Thanks for the lay, Dan,” you say with a wave. He waves back with a grin and you exit, eager and ready to get home and fill that empty Word document.