The Pole’s pole

The Pole’s pole

I mentioned David in my last post, I was with him for what seemed like a lifetime, although it wasn’t even two years.  When we split (he dumped me) I took it a little hard (even though the dumping was my fault) and started sleeping around (I’m using the word “started” loosely here).  Most weekends would revolve around getting drunk and finding a lad to go home with… well hopefully home far too many of those encountered ended by the bins behind the club or in some random place that we drunk people thought was reasonably private.

Anyway, this is the story of a Polish man I picked up on night.

I don’t know his name; I don’t even know if he was Polish but he sounded it to me at the time so that’s what I’m running with.  I was drunk, the music was loud and I was desperate to find a guy to fuck.  Have you ever seen a drunk?  The sort of person who doesn’t seem to be enjoying that 25th beer of the day but just keeps sucking on the can?  That was pretty much me.  I didn’t want to fuck a man I NEEDED to fuck a man.  It was what I did, I went out and got fucked (both through alcohol and the other way).  The weekends I couldn’t get a guy just seemed so horrible.  Maybe I should have been in a group somewhere saying, “Hi, I’m Emily and I’m a sexaholic”.

Back to the story, I’d gone to a club with some friends and as usual I’d found a guy who bought me some drinks and who looked a likely candidate to give me what I wanted.  I knew he was foreign and I couldn’t understand much of what he said; but you never can hear what the guy is saying in a loud club when you’re drunk anyway so I weren’t bothered.

Things were going well with Pole so well we left the club together.  Outside we got straight into a cab and he said spoke to the driver and off we went.  He didn’t speak on the rest of the journey, mainly because his tongue was in my mouth the whole time.  I don’t remember leaving the cab.  The next thing I remember we were inside his flat and his hands were all over me.  I was wearing a very short skirt, low cut top and heels.  I couldn’t have been in the flat more than a minute before I lost my top and after two minutes I was in his bedroom.

I asked him if he had some wine or something like that, I just remember his response: “no English… sorry sorry no English”.  He buried his face in my neck and I had to push him back to try and speak to him again but his response was the same, “no English”.  He was holding both my hands as he said it and I couldn’t help feeling a little trapped.  He came into kiss me again and I didn’t resist.  A moment later I lost my skirt and I was standing in a strangers bedroom in just my underwear and heels with no way of communicating with the man who was doing everything he could to fuck me.

I was still thinking through my options when he pushed me down on the bed.  Being pinned down and kissed by a man much bigger than me who can’t understand anything I say is a kinda scary experience.  But then I realised somethings: I went there planning to fuck him; and I never wanted to talk to him in the first place, so what was I worried about now?

I kissed him back and did my best to make pleasing little noises so he knew I was into it, not that he’d seemed bothered before.  He moved away from my lips, kidding my chin, neck and shoulders.  I somehow managed to reach behind myself and unhook my bra just before his mouth reached my boobs.  He pulled the bra off me (I never saw it again) and kissed, licked and sucked at my boobs; it felt good.  Then he was off again, down my body, slipping my knickers from my legs as his mouth worked its way down my body.  I sat up on my elbows watching him as he explored me.

He reached my pussy.  He took his time.  It was amazing.  He ate me like a pro.  His tongue working around me and teasing my clit so much I was practically begging him to go in for the kill.  All the time his fingers were inside me, gently fucking me.  I think I may have cried because I wanted him to finish me off so badly.  When he did: OMG.  I screamed.  I screamed loud, so loud that I felt a big Polish hand on my face trying to smother my cries of joy as his mouth and fingers gave me the best orgasm I’d experienced in a looong time.

When he finished my whole body felt limp and exhausted, kinda how I expect a marathon runner to feel at the end of their personal best time.  My head was fuzzy, if it was up to me I’d just lie there staring at nothing until my brain and body could work again.

But, it wasn’t up to me.  I felt my legs hoisted into the air and spread around his hips.  His weight was on me and I knew I was about to be fucked.  At that moment, I didn’t want it.  I felt too exhausted and too tender down there.  But, I had no way of telling him that.  I knew I should stop him or at least make sure he wore a condom but I didn’t work any more.  I was just the husk of the Emily who had walked in that room so eager to get fucked.

I didn’t try to stop him, I just gasped as he entered me.  A long swift stroke and he was deep inside me, fucking me.  I looked up at him and suddenly laughed loudly.  He shut me up with a kiss and I spent what felt like the next hour looking up at his face as his cock pounded in and out of my body.  It probably wasn’t an hour… probably five minutes but it felt like a long time… I was very drunk.

He managed to shift himself so his dick rubbed on my clit as he thrust himself in and out. I love that tho not many guys get it.  He had me cumming again.  My whole body was tensing and relaxing – it was one of those oragasms that makes you do a crunch as all the muscles in your belly squeeze together and lift your head and shoulders off the bed.

About the same time I felt him cum.  You always know its about to happen when his thrusting changes from long controlled movements to sudden shorter thrusts and then he drives his hips forward, burying his cock as deep in your body as he can just as his orgasm starts.  I remember feeling his dick throbbing inside me as he pumped all that baby making juice into what I was certain was my unprotected body.  I didn’t even care at that point, it just felt so good.

We finished and lay next to each other, me basking in the glory of my tired throbbing body, him dozing off.  After a little while I wanted to leave.  He was practically asleep so I rolled off the bed, but on my skirt, top and shoes and headed out the door wondering what part of town I was in so I could call a cab.