Spring Break 2003

This really happened.

It was Saturday night, my last night of spring break, and I was feeling decidedly odd. I was drunk, I was out in a bar, and I was wondering – should I pick someone up tonight?

I was influenced by a few different factors. First, the guy I had been seeing, though not "officially," had completely stopped talking to me last Wednesday. After I told him that I didn't want to fool around with him anymore (i.e. hook up and have sex) because I was afraid that I might fall in love with him. Which was true, to a point. I think that given time I could have fallen in love with him. But mostly, he was just weird the last time I was with him. It was only my second time having sex with him, with anyone for that matter, and I thought it was pretty good – but the next day, he didn't seem to want to touch me or do anything physical with me. I figured that not fooling around was what he wanted, but since he just started ignoring me after I suggested it, maybe all he wanted was fooling around, without the friendship that I thought we had as well.

The second factor was that two nights before, I had been aching for some "sweet lovin'" as I like to call it, and had picked up a guy from New Zealand. And all I can say is, well, it was SOME kind of lovin'. He was cute, but shorter than me, and I don't know how old he was either. Let's just say he went off early, then kept wanting me to "turn around" which was, considering my level of inebriation, really not going to work too well.

And the final factor was, let's face it, I was drunk and horny. Really, I'm always horny, but when I get drunk I get bold, too. Plus, it's always fun to see if I can actually succeed in picking someone up.

So basically, long story short, I decided to go for it. Hey, last night of vacation in a foreign country, might as well get a good send-off, right? Right. Plus, I was out of money and out of liquor, and it's nice to get some alcohol out of the deal, too. I was still far too sober, really.

So I got up and looked for a likely candidate. Then I spotted a guy who I met briefly earlier that night, when I was getting a drink with a friend. He'd surprised me by giving me a kiss on each cheek when he met me. I'm used to this, actually, since I lived in Spain for a year and the Spanish do this all the time, but I was surprised that a British guy did it. So I go up to him.

"Hi!"

"Hello! Didn't I meet you earlier?" he said.

"Yeah," I replied. "You're Matt, right?"

"Yeah."

"Listen, I'm broke. Will you buy me a drink?" It was the old "wounded antelope" ploy. "I'll give you sexual favors…" I said, quiet and laughing, like it could be a joke but maybe wasn't.

Well, he bought me a drink. And another. I had him hooked.

Perhaps I should explain the "wounded antelope" ploy. You see, men like to be predators. They want to go out and pick up girls. I, myself, am not pick-uppable. I pick up guys, but they do not pick up me. What I do is (and this really only works drunk) is go up and grab their shoulder. "Oh, I'm sorry, just a second. All right, I'm okay." Then release. This sets off predatory signals of "this girl is drunk and she just touched me." Often they will hang around. I hang around them and sure enough, I need them for support again. Then I just put my arm around them and use them for a "crutch." This is giving off "wounded antelope" vibes – the lion senses wounded prey and goes in for the kill. All I have to do is hang on and lean in a little until he makes his move. He's convinced that he just picked me up, whereas I have just successfully snagged my male of choice. For the night, anyway. I do not recommend this strategy for lasting relationships.

Anyway, the strategy worked like a charm with Matt. Sure enough, I leaned in a little bit and he bent down and kissed me. Score! At this point I was pretty sure I had him, plus he was a good kisser so things were really looking up. Add to that the fact that he was tall (I'm very tall, so I need a tall guy) and had blue eyes and broad shoulders, which I admit I'm a sucker for, and it looked like I might have hit the jackpot. But he also struck me as someone who wasn't going to force it, and I figured that I'd better not come on too strong and scare him off. So anyway, we kissed off and on in the middle of this crowded bar for a while, until finally he (or was it me? Doesn't matter) suggested leaving. So we went outside and down to the train station. He wanted to catch a taxi, since his hotel was about a mile away, and I had roommates. (I was not so lucky with the New Zealander, as he convinced me to take him to my hotel, which resulted in my roommate sleeping in another room and NOT being happy with me) Of course there were no taxis, and surprisingly we sat on the ground by a fence and just talked for quite a while. He was nice, funny, and really had a charming accent… despite the fact that I think the word "bloke" is about the funniest word ever and he kept saying it! Cultural differences, what can you do?

Finally we decided to walk. He tried to hitch a ride with a passing car and failed. He told me I should try while he hid in the bushes, because I'd get picked up no problem. I told him, "If I get picked up, you're staying in the bushes!" Miraculously, he did finally get a car to stop. It took us to a street right near his hotel. We walked in and took the "lift" (I was like, left? What? Oh, lift, right…) up to his room. It was small and messy. But it had a big bed, and really, that's all that was important. Apparently Matt was trying to create "atmosphere." He put on techno music, which I thought, based on my experiences, was very European and in any case, far preferable to most kinds of seduction music. (Don't ask me, I'm a heavy metal fan)

Unfortunately, by this time I had not only sobered up quite a bit, I was also feeling cold. I wanted to go for it but was a little unsure how to start, since he wasn't really taking the initiative (no pressure, how sweet! But annoying), and besides that I wasn't exactly feeling like stripping at the moment. I didn't even take off my coat, yes, I was feeling that cold.

Anyway, we finally managed to lie down on the bed. We were just kissing, and he managed to ease my coat off. My reaction to this was, "Aaaah! Cold!" and I dove under the covers and curled into a little ball.

"You're really that cold?" he asked me.

"Yeah"

I think he was kind of puzzled as to what to do. I turned over to face him and said, "You can try to keep me warm, though."

So we kept kissing. Okay, I was drunk at the time, but he had just the right mix of lips and tongue – I don't like kisses that are nothing but tongue. Tongue wrestling is okay at first, but it gets boring awfully quickly. With the right mix of lips and tongue, though, the kiss is always changing, and a lot more exciting. Well, Matt got up for some reason, and when he came back he was only in his boxers. He also managed to get my bra unhooked almost without me realizing it, and after just a little coaxing I let him pull my shirt off. I was really feeling cold now, though, and so I pressed real close to him while we were kissing.

Finally, enough was enough. I knew he was hard, I also knew that he was quite well-endowed, because he was poking out the top of his underwear. So I said to him, "ummm, I don't want to seem, um, how should I put this? Hey, you have a really nice view!" I had happened to glance out the window at the time. He did have a nice view. He laughed, and I said, "no, that has nothing to do with what I wanted to say, it's just… never mind. Anyway, I don't want to seem, um, forward… but do you have…?"

"Yeah"

"And do you wanna…"

"Yeah"

I smiled. "Well okay then."

Why is it that guys always have condoms? I don't know, but I gotta say, I'm glad they do. Safe sex = longer life = more sex.

Anyway, he came back to bed and handed me two condoms, attached to each other, fresh from the package. "What is this, a double feature?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Hey, you know, I thought you'd, I mean, you're still wearing pants."

It's true. I was still wearing pants.

"Well you're still wearing your underwear. I can feel them."

"Well all right then."

So he took off his boxers, and I took off my pants and panties. I looked over, and he was putting a condom onto a cock that had to be 7 or 8 inches long. Okay, so I had only the aforementioned cold-shoulder guy and New Zealander for comparison, but that thing was so big it scared me.

Not that I was going to let that stop me. I rolled over to meet him, and to my surprise, he pushed me back on the bed. Not roughly, but firmly. It really turned me on – not domination, exactly, but a sort of "I'm running this show now" attitude. I had always been the one pushing things before, it was exciting to have someone telling me what to do. So I lay back on the bed, and he bent down and sucked briefly on my breast. I wondered what he was doing, when he then moved down and kissed my belly. By the time he kissed my inner thigh I'd figured it out, and all I could do was gasp as he suddenly buried his face in my crotch. I must say, Matt knew what he was doing. He just started licking my pussy, targeting my clit, licking and swirling around. It felt so good, no one had ever given me that kind of attention before and it just made me shiver all over. But I was nervous, too, because it was the first time, and really, I felt kind of weird having his head between my legs, even though it felt so good. He just kept licking, and I was getting so hot I could hardly stand it. Then finally I couldn't, and I grabbed him and pulled him to my mouth.

But he still didn't want to enter me. Instead I felt his fingers as he rolled over and pulled me on top of him, one hand massaging me, expertly manipulating my clit, the other pulling my head down to his lips. I couldn't stand this, it was exactly the way I liked it, and I turned my head into his shoulder and clutched him hard as I moaned out the best orgasm I'd ever had. Breathing hard, I kissed him again, teasing his tongue with mine. He rolled me over again, and finally, finally he was going to have sex with me! I could barely stand it, I was so hot, even though I had just come – but he still wasn't going to go for it like my first guy always did. Instead, he placed the tip of that rock-hard monster right against my pussy and then, instead of thrusting in, he dragged it up over my clit and down again. I could not believe this guy's self control – I could barely contain myself! Then he slowly thrust in a little way. I was shocked – it hurt! I, who was no virgin and who had been despoiled by someone who was not underendowed, felt more pain than I had the first time I'd had sex! Okay admittedly I was a lot more sober but this was ridiculous.

I gasped, and he pulled out again. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said. "Just… you're so big and I don't, I mean, don't hurt me, okay?"

He kissed me again. "We can stop. You can just go to sleep if you want, all that matters is that you've had a good time."

"No, it's okay, just be careful. Just… go slow, okay?"

He nodded and I felt him slowly thrust into me again. I thought I was going to split in two – I had never realized I was this tight! I was so relaxed and ready and eager and it still felt like a battle for him to get himself inside me! Finally, though, the slow onslaught stopped. He lay on top of me and I wrapped my legs around him, holding him still and just trying to adjust to the huge thing filling me.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Just hold on a moment, okay?"

"No problem"

He was so sweet! Do I know how to pick 'em or what?

Finally it felt like I had stretched out enough to handle some movement. "Okay," I said, "but go slow. It hasn't hurt like this since the first time."

"It's not your first time, is it?" he said, suddenly looking panicky.

"No you idiot, you're just the biggest thing that's ever been put in there."

He smiled again and kissed me, then slowly started rocking against me. It wasn't really thrusting at first, just rocking, just a little bit of motion. I felt his huge, throbbing cock slowly stretching me out, and the pain finally started to subside. He started moving more, his hips grinding more against mine. I slowly started moving mine, grinding back against his. He lifted himself off me, propping himself up on his hands. "You ready?" he said breathlessly. I smiled and squeezed his cock. He gasped. "Jesus, you are tight!"

"I'll just take that as a compliment. Go for it."

He moved his hips back, withdrawing about halfway, then thrust back in. As he thrust, I squeezed my muscles, making him shudder. He was really hard, I had thought my first lover was (never mind the New Zealander) but he was a limp string compared to this.

He thrust again and again, not very fast at first, but finally speeding up until he wasn't really withdrawing that much, but was pounding against me, hard and fast. He pumped faster and faster, I tried to keep up but eventually just gave up and reveled in the feeling of his huge, stiff member pounding into me, his pubic bone slamming into mine (god, did I really have that whole thing inside me?). I finally couldn't take it any more, and felt another orgasm ripping through me, clutching his back with my hands and moaning shakily as he continued thrusting, even harder it seemed, pounding as fast as my heart as I shuddered all over. Apparently that's all he could take, either, because suddenly he gave one last, hard, final thrust, straining against me, then collapsed on top of me.

I caressed the back of his neck, and squeezed his softening member inside me briefly.

"Wow…" he said.

I laughed. "I am so not that good. You were amazing."

"You're amazing," he said. He looked at me. "You really are beautiful."

I laughed again. "Get off, sweetie. I think it's time to pass out."

He nodded and withdrew. I don't know what he did with the condom, but soon enough he embraced me and held me against him.

"I can't believe you have to leave tomorrow."

"Sorry. That's how it goes." I really did feel sorry, though. Matt had turned out to actually be a pretty special guy. And a pretty talented one, too.

But unfortunately, that's where the story ends. The next day he took me back to my hotel, kissed me goodbye on the cheek, and I have not, nor ever will, seen him since.

Sometimes, you just get lucky, but all good things come to an end.