the life and musings of a kinky slut


This is how you get your pussy privileges revoked.

I met Bacon via Twitter. I don’t remember who slid into whom’s DM’s. 

We first interacted when I was in med school. I, at the time, lived quite far from home so our interactions were of the photos/flirty messages/FaceTime mutual masturbation variety. 

Later, after I started residency, we figured out that we lived near enough to each other. So,  inevitably, we transitioned into a FWB situation. In retrospect, though, I can now see the F part was lacking in more ways than one.

The first time he came over, I was awkward as hell. Thankfully, at a certain point, he told me point blank “stop talking” and the fucking was half way decent. I realized after the fact I was not at my best, having been out of practice while in school, and I felt like I needed to make it up to him.

The second time he came around, much better. Straight to the point and pleasurable for both parties involved.

I flubbed on our third would-be encounter due to my job. I don’t remember if I was specifically on a nights rotation, but I suspect I was as he was set to come over early morning and I fell asleep on my couch waiting for his arrival. When I woke up an hour after he had left, I apologized profusely and asked him to come back. He refused, his ego bruised enough to reject waiting and wanting clean pussy. (Part of the reason I fell asleep is because I took a shower in anticipation of his coming over. Me, a considerate ho. Him, just a dick.)

Subsequently, there have been multiple other times I have invited him over without any follow through. 

Once, I reached out and he declined because he was busy. Another time he declined because it was early AM and I quote “I don’t want a repeat of last time”. Mind you, I had apologized profusely that time and now again to try to ease this man’s ego.

The incident that has now gotten him cut from my roster occurred this Sunday morning.

Saturday night (and Sunday morning, and now in fact) I was (am) incredibly horny. If you follow my Twitter, you would have seen the post in which I admitted this. I reached out to him via the app and via text message. This was around 1am. No reply, so I went to sleep.

Since I was off work, I left my ringer on. Around 4:15am, I woke up to his text. We did a flirty flirty and came to the plan of him coming by after the gym. I asked him to text me when he was leaving his place to make sure I would be awake. I was gonna jump in the shower and wait for him in my lobby just to make sure I would not miss him. This plan was formulated around/just before 5am.

8am rolls by, myself actually haven not fallen back asleep because again I didn’t want to make the same mistake as last time, and there was no message. In my head I’m wondering if this man is gonna flake. So I send a text.


And what, you may ask, was his reply.

“So… I was in the shower when your text came in. But now that I’m out it feels like you’re rushing me, so I’mma pass.”

To say I was flabbergasted is to understate my astonishment. Did this man really just send me this text, jumping to extreme conclusions at 8:30am on a Sunday morning?

In that moment, I had multiple realizations at once.

One, a tangent: The night before I was hanging out with some friends. One of them, a close friend of over a decade, was commenting about another man on my roster and stated a simple but profound opinion. “You deserve better.” 

Though the man was different, the situation was the same. Bacon was being an absolute asshole. I waited for three hours, ready to jump in the shower, clean and primp myself, and bless him with some wet good pussy. Instead, he decides to treat me this way. No sir, you will not treat me like this. I deserve better.

Two: This motherfucker don’t like me. He keeps harping on one mistake I made months ago and for which I have apologized profusely on multiple occasions. He is taking for granted my wanting him sexually. His message was not kind or thoughtful. This man is a dick.

Three: I don’t need this man in my life. Every day, every moment, we chose who we allow to be a part of our lives. We create our world by filling it with the people and places that matter most to us… or who we must tolerate for existence. I have to interact with my coworkers for this paycheck. I plan and execute events with my friends because we love each other and love being around each other. This man though, it’s giving no.

Being a part of my life is a privilege, not a right. And he, in that moment, had lost his pussy privileges.

Within five minutes of his text, I knew what needed to be done.

My reply:

“Wow, I sent a simple check-in text because I have been awake for the past three hours in anticipation of you coming over and this is your response. Yeah, Imma pass too.”

I sent my text, then immediately went on Twitter and blocked him. I deleted our DM thread. I deleted our text conversation. I deleted his contact.

All I wanted was some morning sex. Why is it so hard to find a link up where I call (or he calls me), we arrange a meetup, we fuck, we cum, and he leaves? This should not be that fucking hard. And yet, here we are. 

This is so tiring.

More deadweight cut from the roster.

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