the life and musings of a kinky slut


Subtitle: Best Tinder Date Ever


We spent five and half hours with each other (minus the thirty minutes to get back to my apartment), yet it seemed to fly by. Yes, I liked him from the start.

I met Kourt at a Starbucks that was halfway between his place and mine. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I was hopeful because we seemed to share interests over the app and his pictures were cute.

I was pleasantly surprised when he looked exactly like his pictures: big smile, Killmonger hair, and an air of confidence that was appealing. 

Originally we were supposed to meet at 10 AM, but I found myself awake, earlier than my alarm, reading a romance novel I wanted to finish, so I asked for an extra thirty minutes. He obliged, and for his kindness I was able to shower, lotion, and present myself smiling and smelling sweetly. (Sun Washed Citrus body spray for the occasion.)

Kourt and I talked and talked and talked. It was easy to talk to him. We talked about books. We talked about movies. We talked about television. We talked and talked and talked. He is former military. I told him about my interesting family situation. He related his own. I kept smiling, and giggling, and just really liked talking to him.

Add a certain point, we sat outside of the Starbucks. I wanted to hear him better, and I wanted to talk more openly without worry of being overheard by other customers. Our conversation shifted because, though we had been blunt earlier and encouraged each other to be blunt throughout, now we could converse about more adult topics. 

He is in a non-monogamous marriage. Their rules are simple: neither wants to know what the other is doing and you must always use protection. I applauded his forwardness and honesty. 

As the topics turned towards a more sexual nature, we spoke about what we both liked, of course, and we found multiple mutual appreciations. I talked about my blog. He was very happy at the thought of reading my past escapades and consented to me writing this.

As we sat outside, our knees were intertwined. Occasionally I rubbed my finger along his thigh and he would do the same. There was an obvious tension between us. Truthfully, I knew within the first fifteen minutes of meeting him that I wanted to have sex with him. I just didn’t imagine it would happen so quickly.

As we sat outside, the heat was ever present around us. I offhandedly rubbed some cold water on the back of my neck. I forget who mentioned wanting to go somewhere cooler, but I offered up my apartment. He was more than eager to go back to my place no matter the thirty minute commute.

We rushed back to my apartment and, before I knew it, we were kissing in the short hallway in my unit. And then we were in my bedroom. And then we were naked. And then he was inside of me. I moaned and cried out, “Yes! Yes!” And “Your dick feels so good.” And I moaned his name. He loves dirty talk, saying “Yes, that’s my name. That’s who fucking you.” And “Your ass is perfect.” And “You’re so wet.” And “Your hair is beautiful“ as he grabbed my strands to pull on as he fucked me from behind.

First orgasm down, we laid on my bed. I giggled and basked in my unexpected windfall. 

“Did you cum?”

“No, but could you suck on my nipples while I ride my vibrator?”

He did and I did and it was enough to open the flood gates for later peaks.

Still lying on my bed, I began to lightly trace my fingers across his skin. He was mesmerized by the light touch. My fingers drifted lower. And lower.

“Do you want to get me hard again?”

“You can get hard again that quick? That’s impressive.”

Fingers lingered down, down. And then my mouth followed. His dick is a pleasure to suck. He immensely enjoyed my truncated blowjob. We were short on time. I had to leave for work soon. I licked and sucked on his balls, lapped at his perineum, and made eye contact as he watched me. He took the hair tie off his wrist and offered it to me just so he could watch me work. I really liked sucking his cock.

“Are you gonna make me cum?”

We didn’t have enough time. Never enough time for all the fucking my greedy self wants.

He fucked me again, this time missionary, my legs wrapped around him, his sweaty chest against mine. I held on tight, wanted to feel all of him all at once. He switched me to my side, fucked me hard and fast, so much so that I almost fell off the bed, but I braced myself with one hand on the floor and begged him to go harder, faster. He came and I came undone.

He washed himself off in my bathroom while I walked around my apartment naked figuring out what I needed to do before I raced away for a work function. When he came out, he put on his clothes and began saying his goodbye. His schedule is free but my schedule is fucked.

At some point at some time in some future I will see him again, I hope. Fucking Kourt has been the highlight to start my day, the memories I will hold onto as I begin nights as a doctor.

Wish me luck folks; the journey is on its way.

(Written very quickly in my car before I start my night shift. Audio to come later. Possible edits in the future. But I wanted to get this out before the chaos of my night shift began.)

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