The Introduction of Hipster Boy

It kind of happened by default.

It was after bar and we were the only two people left awake at the house. At this point I had been blown off by B for no apparent reason, and teased by a couple who had just retired to their bedroom without me.

I was drunk.

I should have just gone home.

Hipster Boy was lounging on the front porch railing, smoking a cigarette, when I stepped outside. I joined him for a smoke and before I knew it we were back inside and I was straddling him on the couch.

I only lived a few blocks away and suddenly we were cruising through the cold, empty streets. Hipster Boy’s cowboy boots clicked on the sidewalk.

“My place is really messy,” I apologized in advance.

“Of course it is. You live across from the park. It’s also over-priced, has wood floors, and a claw foot bathtub.”

“You’re cocky, and spot on.”

He followed me up the stairs to my over-priced, wood-floored bachelorette pad. I hit the dimmer switch and turned it down low. We stood at the end of my bed and undressed.

A recent medical procedure meant no vaginal penetration for me.

“My pussy is off limits,” I said as we stripped down.

“Your pussy is off limits,” he repeated, somewhat amused by my crude language.

During the reckless years of ages 18-20, the sex, while sometimes good by accident, was mostly not about me. The boys came and my job was done. I learned to give amazing blowjobs. They often saved me from unprotected sex and made me more memorable than most drunk chicks.

Now the sex is very much about me. But like any good lover I get pleasure from giving as well as receiving. And really, what girl doesn’t want to be known as good at sucking cock?

The point is: it didn’t take long for Hipster Boy’s cock to find its way into my mouth. I gingerly sucked on the head, before suddenly opening my mouth wide, plunging his cock deep into my throat. Spit dribbled down his cock, as I kept him deep in my throat while simultaneously running my tongue up and down him, stopping to make swirls on the tip.

He lasted longer than most, and for a deliciously long time he moaned and twitched, while I sucked and licked. Boy sure does know how to make a girl feel appreciated.

In the morning we awoke early to the sun streaming through the windows, onto the bed. After retrieving glasses of water from the kitchen, we lazed in bed. He traced the letters of the tattoo on my back. Then he began freestyle spelling.

He drew words on my back.

Eggs benedict, he traced.

“Elephant?” I guessed.

Tator tots, he spelled.

“Refrigerator?” I suggested.

Clearly Hipster Boy was ready for breakfast.

With perfect timing his friend Eli called to see if he wanted to get breakfast.

“Where are you?” Eli must have asked.

“I’m at this incredibly slutty chick, Anna’s apartment,” Hipster Boy said and gave Eli the intersection that my building is located at.

I laughed loudly in the background. I appreciated his lack of bullshit and accepted when he invited me to join him and Eli for breakfast.

Later that morning, when Eli dropped me off, Hipster Boy told me that some of his friends were having a party that night and asked if I wanted his number.

I took it and against my better judgment, I called him when I got done with work that night.