That Time I Thought She Was Going To Fuck Me To Death

Reeling from a bout of pneumonia, I was bedridden — then I was bed ridden

I was in my mid-to-late twenties, and by then, I had learned a few things about women, namely that there are a few things you want to avoid saying unless you like your women mad.

“You should smile more.”

Funnily enough, that rarely got me a genuine smile. Instead, that statement was usually reciprocated with a sarcastic grin and a flip of the bird; and often with a few suggestions for me passed along.

“Relax.”

That’s another one that failed to produce the calming nature I would have preferred.

I’d avoid both of those if I were you.

I also learned another fundamental lesson during my young adulthood that has yet to be disproven as a lousy idea — saying No, to a woman who is coming at you with blinking Yes signs in body language and sometimes in plain speaking.

If you tell her No when she wants a Yes, you can not only forget about getting a second shot, but you have just made it onto her fucking loser list. And that list gets spread around quicker than CoVid.

Plus, there’s really no good reason to give your girl a No. I want to mention that I’m using the heterosexual he/she pairing here; I’m not trying to be exclusive; it’s simply all I know. I don’t know if a woman saying No to another woman elicits the same response. Likewise, I have no exposure to the intimate nuances of male-on-male situations, so I feel it’s presumptuous to make my statement all-inclusive.

That also brings up another good lesson. Never assume anything about anyone.

Back to the never say no concept.

If you have a long-term relationship and are not married, the sex is pretty much always great, but you can never be sure when or if that relationship will end. So don’t say NO.

If you’re single and out to mingle, the odds of success in gaining a sex partner are generally bleak, so you if have a girl hanging off your arms and ready to peel her clothes off for you — don’t say No.

If you’re married, especially beyond the decade mark, I can almost guarantee you’re not having as much sex as you want. So when she gives you the nod, pinch, or looks at you twice — don’t say No.

And finally, if you’re gravely ill and death is imminent or even feels like it might be a possibility — don’t say No.

Stupidly, I have said NO in each of the scenarios mentioned above.

I regret each one. Don’t be like me; living with regret sucks.

Pneumonia.

I don’t know how I got it; maybe it wasn’t even pneumonia. All I can recall is lying in bed after falling from dizziness, trying to get up. I was sick. Unfortunately, the girl I was living with was also ill, but not in a “cough-cough, I don’t feel good”-way; she was just plain nuts.

She was also hot as balls.

To get a picture of her, imagine a taller, brunette, A-cup, Sharon Stone, and she still holds a top three position for the best legs I’ve ever seen.

A nurturing spirit was not “hot-n-crazy’s” best attribute. So instead of tending to me with tender loving care, she came into the bedroom, where I had rid myself of every stitch of clothing and lay sweating on top of the sheets to get her lovin’, and she didn’t care.

I was delirious but not in pain, and she-devil worked her magic and got me where she wanted me. Erect and ready to ride, and ride she did.

While slipping in and out of consciousness, I remember that she was having a good time and looked damn fine at doing it.

Meanwhile, I was reasonably confident I was going to die.

I was swimming in sweat, chased by chills. My head, the one above my shoulders, was throbbing while she kept the other busy bobbing in and out of her treasure box.

It was an out-of-body experience. I remember feeling like the dust particles glinting in the room’s air caught in the sunlight from the open window. I floated around the room and looked down to see my body used like a sex toy.

It didn’t look too bad.

There was no kissing, no hot smashing of our bodies chest to chest, no sweet nothings whispered into my ear. She was the cowboy, and I was her horse.

With her slender hands working feverishly to replace where I would usually have mine employed, she thrashed and threw herself onto me. The throbbing in my skull got more intense.

I began seeing exploding orbs in my peripheral vision. She was screaming out foul words and riding for the finish line.

I was sure I was going to die.

After she ground out a long and luscious orgasm, her kindness returned. She kindly dismounted, then used her very pretty hands to finish me across her tiny but lovely tits. Then, with her nipples covered, smothered, and dripping with my cum, she did me a solid and swallowed my cock to clean me.

I thought she was trying to suck out the last of my life force.

But, as gonzo as the girl was, she occasionally dropped some memorable and affectionate words.

“God, even sick as a dog, you’re still a great fuck.”

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