The Last One Night Stand I Had Is the Last One I Will Ever Have

Meeting One Night Stand Man

The night of the last one night stand was sticky with the scent of sweat and cheap beer, the kind that clung to the walls of every dive bar in every town with a pulse. Without a doubt, in a sea of black leather jackets and studded belts, my tight black mini dress stood out, hugging my hips like a lover’s embrace. Another weekend was spent chasing rebellious boys in bands like a cheetah stalks its prey. Scanning the living room at the after-party, I noticed the drummer of one of the night’s bands. An attractive man with tattoos snaking up his arms like ivy on a brick wall, he wore the requisite black denim jeans and black denim Levi’s trucker jacket. However, I knew right away he was the man I wanted a one-night stand with.

Stalking My Prey

All of a sudden, the music shifted, and the opening beats of Tupac’s “California Lovin'” filled the room. I sauntered over to the gleaming stripper pole in the center of the living room, my hips swaying in time with the beat, and began to dance. I climbed the pole, then spun around it, my long hair a whipping dark tornado. Certainly, every man’s eyes were glued to me and I loved the attention. As the song reached its crescendo, I shimmied down the pole, landing in a graceful split at the feet of the drummer, my one night stand dream man. Impressed, he cracked open a cold can of Pabst Blue Ribbon and handed it to me.

Making My Ond Night Stand Selection

Without a doubt, I had the entire room’s attention. Although I could have my pick of anyone I wanted, I asked everyone that wanted to fuck me to pick a number between one and one hundred. Whoever was closest would win. No sooner had I made my announcement before a line of potential suitors stood in front of me. One by one, the numbers were stated. The drummer picked eleven. Much to his delight,  I announced that my number was nine.  After the crowd dispersed, the drummer took my hand and guided me up the stairs to a bedroom.

A One Night Stand Workout

Once in the room, his hands reached up to cup my perky tits. I pushed him onto the bed and gave him the full view as I removed my dress. His eyes devoured the sight of my nude body like a starving man at a feast. Then I reached down, pulling the zipper on his jeans with a slow deliberateness that made him squirm with anticipation. Suddenly his cock sprang free, thick and proud, I took it in my hand, stroking him. He moaned, his hips thrusting upwards, desperate for more. I leaned down and took his cock into my mouth, my throat stroking his cock. Immediately, I felt his orgasm building, his balls tightening, and knew he was close. But I had other plans for our one night stand.

“Fuck Me Like You’re Mad At Me”

I slid his cock out of my mouth and straddled him again, my pussy glistening with desire for my one night stand man. “I want you to fuck me like you’re mad at me,” I whispered, my voice a siren’s call. He reached down, guiding his cock inside of my soaked pussy in one smooth stroke. My tight, wet cunt walls clamped down around him as I rode him, my tits bouncing freely. Then he reached around, his thumb finding my clit, massaging it in tight circles. Suddenly my orgasm hit me like a tsunami crashing on the shore, my body convulsing.

I sank down on his cock again, my soaked cunt enveloping him in a vice-like grip. He groaned as I began to ride him, my tits bobbing with every downward motion. His hands guided my hips, urging me to go faster, harder. Unsurprisingly, he could feel himself getting closer to the edge. As my nails raked down his chest, leaving trails of fire in their wake, he felt the orgasm building. Once again, he felt my wet pussy spasm. But this time, my thirsty cunt milked him for all he was worth. He came with a roar, his hips jerking and cock pulsing as he emptied himself into me. Finally, we collapsed together, our chests heaving, our hearts racing.

The End of the One Night Stand Era

He knew I was the kind of one night stand woman you cheated with, the kind of woman that had to be kept a secret. In the glow of post-sex reality, he commented, “You know, you’re always the girl guys cheat on their girlfriends with. You’re never the girlfriend.” His words hung in the air like a victim of the gallows. I sat up, slid out of bed, and pulled my clothes on.

Walking towards the door, I looked back at him. He was still sitting on the edge of the bed. “I know,” I said, nodding in agreement. Finally, I left the room of my last one night stand and never looked back again.

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