A sex story for JohnSmith
Lone_Wolf
Arizona
True story
Early one early Saturday morning I receive a text from a favorite - “Hey I need fifty bucks for <insert drama here>. Can you help me out?”
Although out of character for my white-knight, gentlemanly PL ass, I replied “sure, but will you give me a hj for it?”
It took about five minutes for the honey to reply. I could sense she was struggling with her decision. Eventually I received a meek text back of “okay”. It was on.
We cannot conduct the transaction at her house because she lives with family. I will not pay for a hotel room just for hj. It needed to be a car handsy.
I pick the honey up at her house. Babydoll had stayed out all night partying. She comes walking out looking pale, hungover, no makeup, messed up hair, slightly ill and disgusted with herself.
We drove to a not so secluded shaded residential area. Although looking sickly, and probably holding back a baby barf, the sweetie looked resolute in completing the task at hand.
I pulled out my now semi-hard johnson. The honey looked at my lizard like one would look at a large pile of dirty dishes needing to be washed. Sighing deeply, she reached over and proceeded to give me an unenthusiastic, unmotivated handsy.
Surprisingly, the whole scenario somehow turned me on big time. Despite the sweetie’s lethargic effort, I nutted within minutes.
We did not talk at all during clean up or the ride home. We avoided eye contact. Upon dropping her off, I handed her the cash and we mumbled embarrassed goodbyes. I think this was a new low for both of us.
Since this amazing erotic experience, the honey has texted me several looking for a “car handsy” repeat. I think she’s a keeper.
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Seriously, dude -- ask for a $100 BJ! You can give yourself a handjob, but unless you're Marilyn Manson, you need another person for a BJ.
At a club not known for extras of any kind, I asked a girl who had done lap dances for me several times if she would give me a HJ in the "champagne room" ($100 for 30 minutes). She seemed to be a little reluctant but did a decent job. The funny thing is, the next time I saw her, she said "Hey, you wanna go to the champagne room and do what we usually do?" In her little stripper brain, a one-time occurrence had become our regular thing. I declined -- I just wanted to see how easy it would be to get a HJ in a non-extras club (answer: pretty damn easy) and went back to getting high-mileage lappers from her, which tend to get me off for $40 or $60 rather than $100.