We met on Tinder. And after some flirtatious banter over text, Lacey agreed to meet me at my place to go out for drink. Her hair was blonde, her eyes were green, and her lips were always caked in red. She fancied herself as a Taylor Swift look alike and her profile pictures gave me the impression of a classy good girl. I was very wrong.


I went downstairs from my apartment to meet her. I turned the corner to see her leaned up with one leg on the ground and the other kicked up against the brick wall as she stared down into her phone. She wore a tan tank top and long flowing skirt.


“Nice. Easy access” is my initial thought upon meeting her.


When fooling around, It’s always easier to turn a girl on when she’s wearing a summer skirt or a dress. Jeans can be a nuisance.


If someone took a survey of all first dates that ended in sex, I’m sure a trend would present itself. Skirts and dresses lead to more “it just happened” sex than jeans or any other pants a girl can wear.




I make my presence known and she puts her phone into her purse.


“What’s up, nice to meet you.”


We greeted each other with a one-armed side hug and began our walk to a hookah bar next door where I gave her my standard first date routine.


After about an hour of conversation, she told a few stories about her anorexia and stints in rehab although she looked perfectly healthy to me at the time. My image of her began to change.


Later that evening, we quickly ended up in bed and she put the final nail in the coffin of her chaste image as she starts giving me a blowjob before I can even get my pants down past my knees. After a few minutes of this, she’s ready to fuck. I reach my hand up her long skirt to take off her thong.


I’m on top of her pulling her skirt down while she thrashes about in my bed, wiggling out of her clothes when all the sudden she accidentally lets out a loud fart.


We both momentarily freeze in place.


Ehhhhh… This has never happened to me before, I think to myself.


I’m still on top of her. I now avoid eye contact like the plague and kind of freeze up and just stare down at the bed while my brain quickly tries to come up with the best way to respond.


Should I make a joke in desperate attempt to ease the awkwardness?


Should I act like it didn’t happen even when it was obvious to both of us that it did?


With my dick only seconds away from penetration, I decided to pretend like I didn’t notice it. She says nothing of it and we let the fucking commence.


Lacey left my apartment shortly after and I laid in bed wondering if I can still look at her the same way. It was so unattractive and killed my preferred notion of girls being perfect and clean and never doing anything gross.


But I had a cute girl here who would make a solid addition to the girls I was currently seeing. I decided to try my best to erase the incident from memory and continue to see her.


A few weeks after that I met her out at a nearby Irish pub. It was Saturday night.


She was bringing her friends and I was bringing mine.  My friend and I were sitting at the bar enjoying our beers and I text her to let her know that I’m here. I catch up with my friend for a bit as a local shitty band played music so loud we had to scream at each other to be heard.


Lacey and her friends arrived not long after so I suggested we head outside for a cigarette and to give my ears a break from bleeding.


She mentioned to me that she was having a little wardrobe malfunction with her blouse. I thought nothing of it.


Later in the night as we’re chatting back inside, I looked down and was shocked to see not one, but both of her tits had popped out for the entire bar to see.


I discreetly pointed it out to her. She nonchalantly covered up and informed me that it’s been happening all night. I looked over at my friend and saw him snickering.


He told me that both her tits were out earlier when she first walked up to greet us but he wasn’t sure how to react. Somehow I had missed it. I threw back a shot of Jager and considered getting my eyes checked soon.


The shitty band finished their set and came out to talk and smoke cigarettes with us. Lacey made comments about how dumb her friends were being by throwing themselves at the band members.


The night was still young and with my apartment right next door, I convinced her to come over for a second and accompany me to retrieve my watch that I had forgotten.


We ended up in my bathroom and she got on her knees to give me a blowjob while I stood upright and went back and forth between observing from my point of view as well as our reflection in the bathroom mirror.


Sex soon followed then she got dressed to go back out and meet her friends.


It was 9:00PM. My buddy had already gone home for the night and I had been relieved of all motivation to go back out with just her and her friends.


I enjoyed calling it an early night, got some reading done, and looked forward to waking up without a hangover.


She texted me a couple hours later that night, “goddammit I think I’m becoming a groupie”.


I took this to mean she was planning on hooking up with one of the band members and wanted to see how I would react.


I didn’t text back. I’m reasonably convinced she at the very least made out with one of the band members not 1 hour after sucking my dick.


After all that, I decided I was done with her and convinced myself I would not be seeing this girl again. But alas, a couple weeks later horniess got the best of me.


She started texting me one night and enticing me with the fact that she had weed that she would bring over to smoke with me. I had a few drinks in me already.


It wasn’t hard to talk me into it.


She comes over and at one point in the night begins reminiscing on our first date. She confesses that her plan going in was to not have sex with me as it was a first date and she usually doesn’t do that.


“Oh god”, I think to myself while fighting the urge to roll my eyes and burst into hysterics.


I thought this was just a desperate effort to make me think she wasn’t a slut, a ship that had long sailed by that point.


But I barely had the time to process what she said when the next statement out of her mouth was..


“Yeah, whenever I’m not that into a guy, I usually just give him head and get on with my life.”


I sat there looking off into the distance with a blank stare on my face.


I began to picture in my head what it would look like to tell her what I really thought about her. Even though I knew it would leave me with no weed and no sex for the night.


I envisioned telling her, “Well that’s very respectable that you don’t have sex with guys you’re not into. Instead you just let them use your mouth as a cum dumpster. That’s wife material all the way. Your future husband will surely appreciate your discretion.”


I would then burst into laughter as she calls me an asshole and storms out of my apartment.


But instead I just gave her a confused smirk and wondered how many dicks I had kissed by association while my respect for her continued its freefall descent.


At this point, I finally decided she had subjected me to one too many things that could not be unseen, unheard, or unsmelled. I received one last blowjob from her and swore her off for good.


Well.. maybe I did hit her up a few more times for free weed and bj’s.
I guess this is what a “sexually empowered” woman looks like.



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