Mistaken Identity & Accidental Sex
I had sex by accident with a bartender from my neighborhood a few years ago. I didn’t accidentally fall on his dick with my legs wide open, but as the story goes one mistake led to another and suddenly we were fucking and I couldn’t exactly tell you how it happen. Except for the fact that I’m going to tell you exactly how it happened.
Remember that scene in Bridget Jones’ Diary where Miss Jones is riffling through her underwear drawer trying to decide which pair to wear for her date. She’s debating whether to wear the sexy underwear in case she gets laid or the control top granny panties which will make her look more appealing and thus get her laid. In the end she opts for the ugly practical underwear, because she reasons that with her luck she’ll only get lucky if she’s wearing the pair you wouldn’t want anyone to actually see. The moral of the story, if you read way in between the lines, is that sex comes when you’re the least prepared. You know, you get lucky when you haven’t shaved your legs in a month and you’re wearing your period panties, just because life works out that way sometimes.
So, getting back to my story, the night I had accidental sex with someone, I had gone out to the store to get a couple things to eat (a may west) and drink (some juice boxes). I was not freshly shower, shaved or in any way expecting to meet someone on the way home from the corner store, but I did and what led up to it was slightly embarrassing or at least makes for a good story.
I was about three blocks away from my apartment when I saw someone across the street whom I recognized as the bartender from the nearby pub. Oddly enough, he had also been in my apartment the week before when my roommates and I had thrown a party. You see, a couple of our friends had been drinking at the pub where he worked before heading to our place and he tagged along. So, when I saw him wave at me from across the street, I thought he recognized me and was just saying hello. In the mood to be social, which was a rare event, I crossed the street to go say hi.
After talking to him for a few minutes it became clear to me that he had NO IDEA who I was. In his mind, I wasn’t a chick who he had meet recently and who was just being friendly, no, I was a random stranger who was hitting on him. The thing is, that he invited me to go grab a beer, but while under the impression that he remembered who I was, I said: “let’s go to my place, I need to get rid of these grocery bags and I have a couple bottles of beer at home.”
On our way to my momentarily empty apartment, I realized that he thought he had just ran into a stranger and after one minute of conversation got invited up to her place. What a lucky guy, huh? I did not have the heart to break it to him that we had already meet. I thought that maybe seeing the apartment he had just partied in not so long ago would jog his memory, but no such luck. I let it go and didn’t give much thought to what would happen next.
He sat at my kitchen table and I stood in front of him handing him a beer, he took the bottle in one hand and lifted my shirt with the other. There I was, standing in my kitchen with a guy I barely knew and who had forgotten ever meeting me in the first place, looking down and watching him have a pretty dedicated make-out session with my stomach. I was so taken aback from what he did, that it took me so long to react that by then I figured I should just go with it.
He lead me to my bedroom and I was still trying to decide whether I actually wanted to fuck this guy. I was still trying to figure that out when he slid my jeans off, and of course, I was wearing bright pink granny panties fruit of the loom style. The sex was raunchy, complete with unflattering bright lights, musky smells, and a continuous change of position. A true shot-by-shot montage of any dime store Kama Sutra sex book. Kneeling on all fours, digging my hands in my sheets, his dick entering me from behind, I thought about the rather large zit on my ass and decided I didn’t give a shit. He licked my pussy and I couldn’t remember the last time I had trimmed my bush and gave up thinking about whether the quick shower I had taken that morning was still holding up to its side of the bargain.
Lying on my back, his cock going in and out of my mouth, I wondered how long this would go on for. Enough with the showcase of various positions, fuck me already, I thought. Fuck me, cum and get the hell out of my apartment. Yes, that was it. I knew what I wanted. I got on top of him and holding his body close to mine, I grinded my clit into his pubic bone until I felt the familiar waves emanating from my cunt. Yes, that was it. I got off of him and sat on the edge of my bed. He asked me whether I had came. I said “yes”. He told me he hadn’t cum yet.
I was done, I wanted him out. He asked whether I would blow him until he came. I said “only if you cum really really fast”. It’s not like I didn’t want to lend the poor guy a hand, but I realized that although I had just fucked him I had never actually made up my mind as to whether I wanted to or not and now that it was done I decided, I didn’t want to after all. Simple as that. Begrudgingly, he left.
That was the first and maybe the only time, I feel like I had been vicious with a guy. Forget about being afraid of being thought of as a cock tease, I pretty much threw someone out of my bed in the worse possible way. The thing is, for a moment after he left, I felt proud. Isn’t that strange?