On Sportfucking


I’m not a sportfucker where I must bed more than one partner at once. Nor is it calculated. Never works that way. You know it when your body knows it. Suddenly, it’s like a pain. My pussy begins to pucker. And then I get sharp orgasmic pains, which forces me to rub myself. It’s even worse now because I’m menstruating. I don’t mind masturbating on my period… but sex? Let me put it to you this way. Playing with my pussy is like a crime scene – it’s filthy and obscene, but manageable. Not too messy. Having sex is more like a bloodbath – No matter what you do you’re both covered in blood. And it takes forever to clean up.

So, along comes a fellow in my neighborhood. I liked that he had a very average appearance. But his energy was very unique. And he looked so young… Mmmm, I was curious…

This time around, if a stranger asks to come up to my apartment, I just say yes. Crazy, I know. But, I wasn’t afraid. When pre-menstrual (or whenever, honestly), a simple interaction becomes a hunt. Only there is no prey, only predators. So, that was my state of mind. We were equals on an aggressive front and I knew I would match his physical impulses, regardless of what those impulses might be.

And there was a fight. To me, the epitome of sport fucking is not how many people you fuck. It’s about purely primal lovemaking. We both dominated over the other, tightly gripping limbs and pinning each other down to the point of exhaustion. He was very big so he had to take his time with me (see entry). But, even when it pained me, I was able to breath it out. I kept moving my hips, gracefully arching my back so I could make myself more receptive.

We saw each other again just a day later. I was hunting (again) but this time I was menstruating too. It slowed down our encounter but we continued our struggle. I whimpered with each deeper thrust and he shook violently when I swallowed him whole.

Afterward, he had to get ready for work. But I was still hungry. I still am. I thought at first that maybe I wanted him to be my beau. You know, wear the letter-man jacket, show him off to the girlfriends, etc. But, that irritated me. No, it was then that I realized the quickness of sportfucking didn’t work for me. I didn’t want him to go so soon. I was still horny, still wanting to pounce. I just liked his warm body next to my warm body, one that would brush against his hand so that he may “accidentally” caress my pussy. I liked being used and to use someone like that. We just feed off of one another for hours, hell, days. That, to me, is a true sport.

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