I went spelunking and found nothing.

I’m going to wear this dress all week long.

I have a new policy: I will not fuck anyone whose cock I do not want.

That may sound obvious to some of you, but in the past I fucked in order to discover whether or not I liked the penis.  I would bring a man into my room, peel off his pants with my breath held and hope for the best.  I don’t know why it never occurred to me before that I could just put my hand down his pants and leave it at that.  Well, consider me enlightened.

Monday I met Alex at a local bar with the flush of an orgasm on my cheeks.  It’s how I like to pump myself up for dates.  It’s better than a close shave, perfume, or perfectly coiffed hair.  Sometimes I even dip my fingers into my tender pussy and dab a little of my scent behind my ears.  I know it’s there and like Dumbo with his feather I am now invincibly sexy.  Alex got the benefit of this little trick.

I sauntered in wearing my yellow and white dress, breasts crushed pleasantly against the cotton, and spotted him eating french fries at the bar.  We hugged and so began a long evening of banter and flirting.  I literally have no interest in him as a person other than I find him reasonably bearable; when he talks I don’t mind listening.

He kissed me boldly once or twice and we laughed and teased each other.  I hiked up my skirt to show him my firm, shapely thigh (“You like?” I’d asked)  and I scolded him for wearing jeans with a hole in the crotch.  As the night wore on and the drinks filled my belly I leaned over and kissed him, my hand cupping his warm bulge.  I couldn’t feel anything.  I shook it off and decided it didn’t mean anything.

Outside smoking he did his damnedest to get me to share, but he’d just quit and I refused.  He tugged my hair back and loomed over me and crushed my mouth with his inhaling the tobacco lingering on my breath.  Drunker and more turned on I slipped my hand down his pants and righted his south-facing cock.  He moaned a little and my exploring hand hoped that there was more to come.  He felt only average.

Eventually, hunger distracted me from everything else.  I asked him what I should order.  He said, “Whatever you want to pay for.”  We’d been playfully arguing about the economics of dating all night and I wasn’t impressed with his attitude.  “Women are CEOs now!  Women’s rights!”  he proclaimed as a defense.

“There are, like, 6 fucking female CEOs and I still make $0.75 to your $1, don’t give me that bullshit.  And I wore a low-cut dress,” I added to cut the tension. But the mood was gone and he had a small dick and I didn’t care anymore.  It was time to go home.

He led me out of the building, but instead of heading to my car we walked to a darkened residential street behind a movie theater.  We stopped between two parked cars, a white hybrid hatchback pressed against my back as he kissed me passionately.  The cicadas chirped and buzzed overhead as we were bathed in yellow from a street light.

He pulled my straps down and my breasts spilled out.  He sucked on my nipples and I moaned, he sucked harder and I clasped him to me.  I unbuckled his pants determined to get the best out of him, but he was half mast at best.  To his credit he made no excuses, he only fell to his knees, lifted my dress and looked at me with a question on his face, his hot breath on my sex.

I nodded.

He pulled my white eyelet panties down and lapped at my pussy.  I pushed my hips into his face and moaned again.  This wasn’t so bad after all, cheap skate or not.  His fingers delved into me and I pulsed around his mouth, constricted my channel and pushed out again.  I squirted into his mouth and shuddered a little.

He took a ragged breath and stood up and put his fingers in my mouth.  I tasted tart and hungry.  I took his hand and returned it to my cunt, his mouth returned to my breasts and I grabbed his cock again as a woman casually walked by. I looked her in the eye with glazed desire.  She passed 3 feet away and never made a sound.

I pulled him up to kiss me again and pushed him away.  I thought of the condoms in my purse, but remembered my new policy.  His cock, simply and cruelly put, was not up to snuff.

He held me for a minute and then reached around behind me and cupped my sex and massaged my clitoris.  Involuntarily I gushed through my panties and ejaculate ran down my legs to my ankles.  He was speechless as I stood shivering with my legs wide apart seeking balance.

“Ok, let’s go,” I said.  He took my hand as I wobbled next to him slightly cum dumb.  We kissed at my car and I said goodbye knowing it would likely be our last meeting.  He said he’d be at my beck and call, but he’s not what I want.

I drove home smiling and went on my balcony to smoke.  Downstairs Neighbor was on his balcony smoking, too and I invited him up.  We drank all night long laughing at our ridiculous stories (he’d just lost his buttsex virginity – he topped) and I felt free and open.  The Neighbor came out on his balcony to say Hi.  I drunkenly invited him over, but he sagely declined.  I wondered why he keeps coming out to see me.  I wish he’d just stop and leave me alone.  He’s the only one I want and thinking of him with 4 am girl makes me want to scream.

I was supposed to see Kevin yesterday for a good hard fuck, but he couldn’t get away, and I was dubious about getting what I needed anyway.  I had another date lined up for last night, as well, but his work schedule also got in the way.  I’m hopefully meeting a new man tonight for a quick drink while I’m out with friends and still plan on seeing Josh on Friday.

The truth is, I am hurting, confused, lost, lonely, and above all else exhausted.  If TN wasn’t TN then I wouldn’t know when he was out all night or gone for the evening or when he had 4 am girl over and I would likely not be in this predicament.  When I think back on other breakups I could just hole up at home and nurse my heart uninhibitedly.  But I feel like I have an audience, like I’m in a goddamned fishbowl.

I imagine this is so much easier on him because he has someone else to think about, lust after, fuck, kiss, talk to, spend time with, whereas me, I’m just me.  All alone and desperately wishing otherwise.

I can’t wait to be in the next phase of this.  This fucking sucks.

36 thoughts on “I went spelunking and found nothing.

  1. Coming home empty handed after a spelunking expedition is quite depressing. It’s true sometimes that you already know ahead of time that it’s just never going to do, but there you are anyway… I’m not free (enough) to go on any field trips now but when (if) I am one day…I think I’m with you on your new weenie proclamation. Why waste your time? Life is so short! Those kind of let-downs bring me to tears.

    Things are bound to get better Sweet Hy!


  2. You’re certainly allowed to say who (or what) gets to go spelunking. Just be prepared for someone with a massive stalagmite to have similar criteria from the ladies. Fair is fair.

  3. You’re my hero Hy. Ups, downs, In Between Cars and all. You’re sense of freedom within to do as you are is a gift – with costs – but a gift to be true to yourself.

  4. I think the progress is admirable. At first I was worried that you might go the “any cock in a storm” route (which, in reality, wouldn’t have been so bad). But no, not our Hy. She has set big (hehe) standards, and she’s sticking by them, even if her pussy is drought stricken.


  5. I’ve been spelunking. That shit is fucking scary. Climbing down deep into wet, damp, dark holes, head first, getting right in there, twisting like a snake up down and around in the darkness, hoping the light doesn’t go out or that I am crushed in there, consumed by the hole, even though it feels like a perfectly good place to die… Yeah, yup, good stuff. Go deep. Right to the hot magma.

    • Nice, Justin. I called it spelunking not because I really had a fucking clue what was entailed (thanks for the education!), but because it’s what TN said I did to him one of the first nights we ever hung out. I’d gotten drunk and “went spelunking” in his pants, apparently. I thought it an apt enough description. And after your clarification, I still stand by it :)

  6. Remember how you are feeling now about TN before you sign up for more of that shit. Seriously, you have to be done with him, it just isn’t worth it to set yourself up again. I’m glad you’re being choosy. You won’t find a dude who has what you’re looking for if you have settled for less and aren’t looking.

  7. damn, hy, i feel your pain in all of this…it is hard getting over the cock that became like crack to you…i know this all too well girl…
    i’m just catching up on your blog, and laughed when i read your new policy because i have been going through similar shit and making new policies, and just finished a post about the whole hoping against hope when you pull down the pants thing…except mine wasn’t average, he was rocking the sad D-Cell battery,lmao…

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