He started off by texting me absolute filth. Calling me a cumslut and worse. I was his ‘dirty bitch’ and I was going to get it hard. Sent me pictures of his cock and asked if I thought I could take it all. Did I squirt. You get the drift. He was going to cum on my face apparently. He clearly wanted to get it out of his system. It got a bit tiresome if I’m honest.

The first time we were meant to meet he came up with some BS about the tube not working. I checked and it was.

The second time we made plans he called me and checked where we were meeting. I ran off to finish getting ready and came back to find a text saying he was sorry and he had a girlfriend.

Now, I should have given up there and then really but I didn’t. He didn’t either.

The third time we arranged to meet, we actually did. Except I was absolutely steaming drunk and he ran away.

I ran after him, persuaded him a little and he came back to mine.

I’d been drinking champagne all night and had two bottles in my bag (don’t ask) so decided opening one was a good idea. It went everywhere and a glass broke.

We started on the sofa. Kissing and stroking. He had quite a long beard and I’m sorry to say it just smelt bad. Even drunk, it wasn’t nice. It just wasn’t clean. And he used his teeth to kiss.

He started off his dirty talk and it just didn’t quite do it for me. But in for a penny, in for a pound I thought and unbuckled his jeans. His cock stood proud and erect without even having to touch it.

I pretended it was the most delicious lollipop in the world and worked my tongue over it, bobbing up and down working up momentum. He said nothing. And then ‘oh god I can’t do this please stop’. Muttered something about the girlfriend. Pah. This dirty talker was an absolute sap in real life.

I told him to wait for me while I slipped into something more comfortable.

In my bedroom I tipsily changed out of my workwear and put the killer underwear on. Tiptoed downstairs and tried to continue the seduction. He took one look at me and snogged my face off, grabbing my hips and pulling me into his lap. Girlfriend forgotten. Funny that.

He unhooked my bra and massaged my tits, making comments about what a dirty little girl I was. This was more like it. He circled my nipples with his tongue, I told him to bite them. Oh yes. He pulled my knickers to the side and worked his fingers into my pussy. Oh yes, this was getting better by the minute.

“You horny little bitch, you’re so fucking wet, you’re going to fucking get it” he said, and I lay back on the sofa, expecting him to lick me.

Instead he climbed on top, still pretty much clothed, me with underwear. His buckle dug into my thigh, making me jump with its coldness. He was taller, this was uncomfortable, it wasn’t going to work here. I told him to come upstairs in a couple of minutes while I sorted out condoms.

Quickly cleared the bed of clothes and make up. Lay back alluringly and waited. And waited.

How drunk was I?

How long did I wait?

Questions I can’t answer. I tottered back downstairs. He had scarpered. Leaving my front door unlocked.