The guy who wanted to get serviced but never serviced me
By The Anonymous Nobody
Long story short, I dated this guy from work. I know that’s already no-no, but as cliché as it may sound, there’s something hot about dating someone you’re not suppose to. And maintaining a secret relationship makes it hotter.
He was a cool cat, handsome, interesting, good with his hands— you know, all those things that look great on paper. Plus, we both shared a deep love for craft beer and good food. At the end of the day, I was single, he was single and it was long overdue for me to have some sexy fun with someone that I was into.
[Side bar; my gay boss would always check out this coworker’s ass and tell me how handsome he found him. Once my boss and I developed a personal friendship with no filters, I told him I grabbed that ass on a regular].
He was a great kisser (the coworker, not the boss). He had a very distinct, refined voice, that carried the right amount of deepness.
We played hooky a few times and binge-watched Misfits then Shameless, laid naked in bed all day when it was cold outside. It was comforting. He was comforting.
When it came to having sex, it wasn’t great. He was small, but more importantly our rhythms were not in sync. We both moved in the same direction, as opposed to in and out of each other.
We thought maybe we’re just those people that can’t get it together and shared a few laughs about it.
When we eventually got it together it wasn’t great, because of the first reason; his snake was small, too small.
I’m also a major fan of foreplay. So much so that I’ve had foreplay that was as good as great sex, or better. Something about peeling off layers of clothing slowly, long kisses in spots that may be overlooked during sex, the pre-teasing penetration — all that good stuff intensifies the good stuff. And then comes the oral sex, which I think is the best feeling in the world. With this particular coworker, I serviced him and when it was time to return the favour, he responded with “I don’t do that, never have.”
My initial unvoiced, slightly heated reaction in my head was is this fucking guy serious!? The next reaction was confusion, I thought if you’ve never done it, then how do you know you don’t like it? I couldn’t say that in the moment … although looking back I wish I did.
Clearly he wasn’t into this ‘ask and you shall receive’ concept. Because I asked him to eat me out, and without hesitation his response was a confidently, pre-rehearsed no.
It was such a firm no, yet he had no problem nudging me to go down on him, and wouldn't mind if I spent the rest of eternity down there.
As crystal clear as he was to refuse eating me out, my reaction showed I was not down with this one way transaction.
So we ended.
Work was a bit awkward but thankfully my office has multiple floors and he avoided the floor where my permanent desk was located. This was about five years ago.
I ran into him on the streets about a year ago and thought a) you really let yourself go b) has any woman ever been able to convince you to eating her jewels? If she has I bet you suck at it, because it’s an art and you weren’t very artistic.
