The first time a guy came on me, I was confused by it and had no experience in the “experience.” And I’m calling it an “experience” because it’s happened many times since then, and each one is a little different in the action but universally the same in my thought process. Why.
Let me go back just a little to give some more context to what feels like a cum soaked existence. That is another thing I’d like to point out, that cum is everywhere. Everywhere.
Going into college, I’d had sex with two boys, both boyfriends, and I shouldn’t have to defend anything about myself to you. One boyfriend and I used condoms, and when I got on the pill for the second boyfriend, we stopped using condoms and he came inside me. It’s a big deal, the first time you have cum shot up inside of you, only to have it leak out after every time you move a little bit until you go to the bathroom and have it drip out of you into the toilet. It’s personal, and it’s an experience. Like thinking in the shower.
Neither of those boyfriends every asked to cum on me, and they would never have dreamed of offering their cum to me like a reward.
That’s where college comes in.
My first sexual experience as a freshman was simple and depressing, where a boy on my floor and I had a one minute session where he came in the free-front-desk-condom and then cried about how much he missed his girlfriend. That should have been a warning of things to come in the real world.
There was a guy from an into psychology class who I told not to come inside of me. I really don’t think that’s such a shocking thing to ask. I don’t want your cum inside me, doesn’t matter that I’m on the pill. Like when a guy gets offended that you don’t want to swallow his cum. I once had a guy get mad and say that he “made it for me.” I told psychology guy not to cum inside me and he was the first experience I had with the classic questions that follow after that request. The first question is always: “Are you on the pill?” or “Aren’t you on the pill?” Yes, but you still can’t cum inside of me. Next question, and this is the biggie: “Where do you want me to cum?”
That one always varies in the way it’s asked, the exact wording, and sometimes comes out as an offer or a suggestion. My favorite, which I’ve gotten more than once, is: “Stomach or face?” There’s also: “Back or face?” or “I’ll cum on your ass, I’ll cum on your stomach, I’ll cum on your pussy, let me cum on your face, let me come on your tits.”
Never, never, have they suggested cumming in a towel, in tissues, next to me, or anywhere but those four or five golden spots. I guess part of my shock the first time was my own naivety from never having someone cum on me before. I really didn’t know that was a thing.
As much as I don’t want your cum inside me, I really don’t want it on me. How about you cum on your own chest and see how it feels? I’ll even toss you one of your shirts after so I can watch you wipe it off. I just grabbed it off a pile though, did you want me to grab one from the floor?
I had a guy cum on my feet once, and as weird as that was, so far, it’s been the easiest to handle, because I didn’t have to look him in the face as he did it.
Where did this come from? None of my girlfriends in high school ever had a boyfriend come on them, and in college, we all felt like walking cum rags. When did I develop a target on my body for you to shoot your load at?
Is it because you don’t know me very well that you think you can treat me like a fuck doll? Like you’ve conquered my vagina and have to spray me in order to mark your territory. Do you feel better about yourself?
I once had a guy hold onto the side of my head as I was blowing him and start thrusting. They call it “face fucking,” it’s really a thing, and he said after that, “I always wanted to try that.” So glad I could be your experiment. Now please never do that to any woman ever again. When I said that it was my turn to receive, he confidently said, “Oh I don’t do that,” like he had it printed on his fucking business card.
Maybe I need to be more confident? You already think I’m a slut. I wasn’t raped and I don’t hate men. And I’m working on developing a better understanding to this whole sex thing; I’m trying to find a way to make it more equal, more fair-trade. It’s just hard to develop a back bone when it’s constantly be doused in your cum.