NOTE: The views expressed in this blog post are not those of Poly. Poly does not condone the use of "Sweaty ass hole" as a term to describe her beloved Houston.
It took me two days to realize
...that this guy I ran into a few nights ago at the bar, was a dude that I ... wait, wait.
Little bit of a back story on him. He's hot. That's really all you need to know. I met him last year in the sweaty ass hole that is Houston.
He's not usually the type of guy I go for, he's about 5'8 and my age; Mid-twenties. Any who ... I ran into him at a bar a few nights ago. I saw him out of the corner of my eye and he smiled at me. I didn't recognize him. I walked by and he yelled my name. "Natalia! How are you?" My response was empty and I searched for a name in my head... who the fuck is this guy and why do I get the feeling that I know him on a personal level. Two nights later it clicked. I don't really remember how it happened, but I took him back to my place and he tied me up to the bed and had his way with me ... It was a hot 3 hour session: he whispered the dirtiest things into my ear and made me scream out his name while he used his belt to smack my ass, I was exhausted. By the time he left my vagina was swollen and irritated. I ran to the ice box as soon as he left and rubbed myself with ice cubes all night. Hot? Hell nah, that shit was cold and I couldn't feel it after a while. But I'd so rather not feel my vagina than have an irritated one. I never heard from him again. That's fine, I'd rather have just one awesome fuck than a tainted relationship. And that's how I know him... figured out his name last night. It's one of those things that makes you smile on a rainy day when you are alone at home and have time to wonder "what happened to that dude/chic I hooked up with last summer... that was fun." So what keeps me from having this on a daily bases? I don't know I keep asking myself that... hmmm, should I call him?