In my weary life I have had a few miserable attempts at love. Needless to say, none of them have succeeded. But this 2020 year has been such bullshit, that I’ve given up on love and settled for bangs on Grindr instead. From the ashes of rejection, I emerge a phoenix with a very sore bottom. And Rona’s not stopping me. No chance babe.
Out of many successful GrindR fornications, however, there will inevitably be a few failed attempts. To boost your morale, I share one of my favourites below:
The first chap in question -let us call him Woody- was, much to my dismay, a massive catfish. He looked far better in the selfies he sent and I struggled to mask my disappointment as I opened the door. For some bizarre reason, he brought a hefty bag full of clothes in with him which left the terrifying thought that he might be homeless (or worse yet… attempting to move in with me!!) whirring in the back of my head as I was subject to his abysmal blowjob. After he had finished his poor performance, I presumed, as is only polite, that he might want to be privy to a performance too, but much to my pleasant surprise, he wasn’t at all interested in any such thing. I meekly attempted a stroke of the phallus which he dodged with dexterity.
Before I go too far into the details, however, I have forgotten to mention the one piece of information that remains plastered in my memory like a rotten egg.
His foul smell.
He stank of curry. And he was such a weird kisser, he was so determined to stick his tandoori tongue down my throat that I felt I might regurgitate. I tried to bar his way with my own tongue, but his was too quick, too powerful, too pungent.
He was also wearing a tangerine coloured beanie which he never took off, during the entire sexual encounter!!! Even though we were both butt naked… Who does that? Why would he keep his beanie on? Should I have said something? I writhed with the fear of smelling his breath again and opted for silence.
Luckily, he was not homeless and shortly after his crappy cocksucking he was gone. What a relief.
Of course, he didn’t leave without a departing kiss which has extinguished my life-long passion for Indian cuisine.