The Perfect One Night Stand

I fucking love sex.
I know that's a taboo thing to say as a woman, but I'm not ashamed to admit it. We all love sex, don't we? So why hide that fact and pretend we don't? It's pleasurable, it's raw, it's violent. It's the pinnacle of human intimacy, a universal love language.
One might even say it is the ultimate display of love and passion.
Virtue signalers might shriek and cry, pointing fingers at me and calling me names in their spiteful outrage. Trust me, I've heard the worst of it. Slut, whore, pervert, heathen. They all follow the same script. It's all bullshit, of course. You and I know that, don't we? We both know such people are insecure, and rather than address their sexual frustration, they'd choose to project their issues onto others.
I, obviously, am not one such person.
Hookup culture has made it easier to get laid than ever before. "Chivalry" has collapsed, giving way to something fresh. One-night stands are now easily accessible to practically anyone who desires them. Go out to any bar, any club, and walk up to any guy. Give them a little sweet talk and bat your eyes at them, and they'll be infatuated with you in no time. Such a thing is so easy that picking up men has essentially become my craft at this point.
Don't mistake me for some sex-obsessed broad, though. I seek out men for a purpose. I want to find the one for me. The man with a perfect body, who can satisfy my every need whenever I want him to. It's like I said earlier. Fucking is the ultimate display of love and passion, but without the ideal person by your side, it's all a waste. Luckily for me, I happened to find such a man a couple of nights ago.
He honestly looked out of place when I first saw him. In that rowdy bar where drunken men clumsily stumbled about, noisily talking amongst one another, he sat alone, silent. He was dressed much too well for such a place. He sported black jeans and wore a clean, blue, buttoned-up shirt. His lips stayed glued to a brown beer bottle which he'd occasionally sip from. Honestly, he was pretty cute.
I arose from my chair and sat beside him. He glanced towards me, not-so-subtly peeking at my breasts before looking into my eyes.
"So what's a guy like you doing in a place like this," I asked while resting my chin on my hand. He fully turned his body to face me and briefly adjusted his glasses before responding.
"I'm just having a drink... What's a pre-pretty girl like you doing out here...", he croaked, his voice trailing off towards the end. I flashed him a smile, hoping my friendly appearance would calm his nerves.
"Oh, ya know, I'm just out here having a couple of drinks after a long day. Nothing much besides that. But then I saw how cute you were and thought I'd come talk to you," I said, giggling slightly and tilting my head. His cheeks grew red as a cherry; he was likely surprised by how direct I had been.
"Thank you...," he replied sheepishly, seemingly at a loss for words.
"So, are you gonna get me something to drink, then," I exclaimed, hoping he would eventually find his momentum and better engage in our discussion.
"Oh, I'm sorry, yeah, for sure", he uttered, waving the bartender towards us.
When the bartender brought me my drink, we clinked our glasses together and took a swig. A few bottles later, the man eased up a little and finally got more comfortable with me.
"So, what's your name, sweet cheeks," he asked, a smirk painted across his drunken face.
"My name? Hmph, it took you long enough to ask, you know. You're lucky you're so attractive or I might have up and left already. But if you must know... It's Samantha. What's your name, tough guy?"
"It's Matthew...," he muttered.
I could smell the booze in his breath. The guy was absolutely shit-faced. I, on the other hand, was still mostly sober. I had built up quite an alcohol tolerance. Besides, I wasn't drinking anything too strong. I leaned into his shoulder, positioning my rosy lips right in front of his ear, before whispering to him.
"Why don't I take you back to my place so we can have fun, Matt?"
His eyes lit up with excitement as he rocketed out of his chair, before promptly stumbling and collapsing onto me. I struggled to keep him standing upright. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and stumbled along, and we exited the bar together.
When we finally got to my apartment room, I opened the door and laid him down on my bed. I gently rested my hand on his head, massaging his scalp which was covered with messy, black curls. He was far too intoxicated to speak coherently. His quivering lips only produced nonsensical gibberish. I ran my fingers along his face, adoring the handsome man laying right there on my bed. His head must have been pounding heavily, so I made sure to grab a cup from the kitchen and filled it with water. I helped him consume the liquid before setting the cup back on the counter, next to the capsule I kept in my possession. Its contents would help Matt relax, that was certain.
Once I made my way back to the bed, I crawled onto the mattress and sat down on his legs. I grabbed his wrists and positioned them straight above his head. Then, I pulled off his shirt, revealing his well-built arms and torso. I licked my lips, a sense of raw lust beginning to flow throughout my body. I bent down and kissed him, before slowly tracing my fingers along his abdomen. As my hands lowered and my fingertips were met with his crotch, I methodically unzipped and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down. My gaze was then met with a slight bulge protruding from his underwear. I reached out and squeezed it softly.
Matthew softly muttered something in protest, but I paid him no mind. I knew he wanted this. Every man wants this. It's why they go out to bars, it's why they go out to clubs. They do it to achieve the ultimate prize. I ogled Matthew's body. His delicious chest, his tantalizing abs... this was what I had been waiting for. He was so perfect.
I pulled down his underwear to reveal his cock. Its size and girth excited me... I hastily tore off my clothes and hoisted myself up before lowering back down onto his rock-hard member. He grunted, and I delicately placed my finger over his lip. I placed my hands on his chest to balance myself as I began to bob up and down on him, rattling the mattress underneath us. He squirmed and his groans became louder, obviously as a product of his excitement.
"Do you like that huh? You like fucking me like this? You fucking love it don't you. Fuck me Matt! Fuck me until I scream! You dirty, naughty fuck!"
His cloudy eyes rolled into his skull as he released something warm inside of me. I hung my head back, panting, before rolling off of him and laying by his side. I turned to face my partner. He barely clung to consciousness, but I didn't need him to be awake. I didn't need him to be aware to satisfy me.
As I laid in bed, I couldn't keep my mind off what I had just experienced. The way his cock throbbed inside of me, shaking me to my core. How good it felt when he climaxed... I couldn't get enough of it. I had to have Matt. He had to be mine. A smile spread across my face as the realization set in. I got up and approached my closet. It was finally time. Opening it, I was faced with large, metal objects which gleamed in the moonlight that seeped through my velvet curtains.
I had finally found the one, and it was time to do something. Something I had always wanted to do. Something that would allow me to be with him forever.
Matthew has since lived in my apartment with me. We've been happy together. So... so happy. No longer do I go out in search of a partner. I have one now. One that will stick with me for life. One who can never leave me. Who can never escape the cycle of lust which we find ourselves in. Just as it should be. Just as it was meant to be.
Sometimes the neighbors knock on my door, asking us to keep it down on some of our more "exciting" nights. At times, their ears perk up when they hear his groans. It's not an issue though, really. I just explain that I have a man living with me now for some "fun", and they understand. They know how men can be, after all.
Tonight was fantastic. We fucked for hours on end. I never get tired of his perfect body, and I never will. I rode him until he came inside of me, just like I wanted him to. Don't read into this as if I'm using him, though. Believe me, I'm not. I promise I shower him in affection when we finish. I kiss all over his chest, his shoulders, his stomach.
I even kiss on the blood-stained stumps where his arms and legs used to be. As I look upon his face, his wonderful mouth where a streak of spittle leaks out from, and his beautiful, glossy, drugged-up eyes, I smile in utter satisfaction before laying my head down on his chest to listen to his still-beating heart.
Category:NSFW
Category:Icydice
Category:Mental Illness
Category:Dismemberment