Hysom Zarroug

Hoefessional: I Broke My Celibacy 4 This S***

Hysom Zarroug
Hoefessional: I Broke My Celibacy 4 This S***
 

Hoefessional: I Broke My Celibacy 4 This S***

I decided to try celibacy.

Why not, right? There was a period after my horrible break up where a fuck buddy relationship was the way to have your cake and eat it, but a whirlwind of confusion and unrequited feelings always followed (not from me y’all, f*ck these niggas). The truth is, men don’t want you to be numb to them. They can’t stand functioning fuck buddy relationships, no matter many times they post the shit on twitter. It hurts their ego. To have a girl minding her business, “knowing what this is,” has to mean she doesn’t love nor respect herself, right? Obviously, she’s not a God-fearing, “virtuous” woman if she allows herself to be objectified and used. Consent for what? She should want to say no! So the right thing, no, the godly thing to do is… abstinence. So, I decided to try celibacy.

After 45,678 days of no sex, a man could breathe on me wrong, and I would ooze. I started to get aroused at sex scenes in movies. I snuck onto Xnxx maybe six times a day. Y’all, my sex drive is already high. And I don’t mean just having sex a couple of times a day high. I mean every time I look at you, I want to f*ck kind of high. So suppressing my deepest desires as a sexual woman was so hard for me. Until one night while swiping through Tinder, I matched with him. The one I always wanted.

I kid y’all not, this young man came right around and fucked my whole shit up. It was a guy I used to know from college. I always found him attractive, and he felt the same, but someone was always in the way. Until nooowwww. We reconnected by meeting up on campus, both of us commuters at this point, and exchanged phone numbers. We chopped it up over the phone. “So how have you been” chit. “Are you still with so-and-so” chat. After a while, the conversation turned into “so why come we never got together?” Usually, I’d take it slow, build up the anticipation, but his baritone voice over the phone had my panties dripping like water seeping over a dam that was ready to burst.

“Why don’t you come over to my place and show me why we should have?”

Y’all, it seemed like thirty seconds from when we hung up the phone to when he showed up at my door.

His smooth caramel skin was glowing contrasted with his all black attire. He smirked at me when I opened the door in my robe, exposing the prettiest white teeth. He was tall, just like I like ‘em. He looked so good that I wanted to rip his clothes off at the door; and it seemed like the cologne he wore grabbed me and pulled me in for a hug. There wasn’t too much conversation that needed to be had. I needed him like a starving child needs some food.

We made our way to the bed, trailing the way by throwing our clothes all on the floor. He picked me up in his arms, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, tonguing each other down. He laid me on my back, kissing me down, sucking my nipples, licking down my stomach. When I tell you I needed this, y’all, I needed it. Sometimes as a woman, you just want to feel craved. That vibrator isn’t always enough.  You want to be squeezed and smacked and groped, exchange energy, and feel…. desired. It was every bit of therapy for my stress that had built up. He kissed my inner thighs and kissed me through my panties. I damn near fainted. I just knew my heart was about to get eaten out. He slid my panties off to the side and I waited for the magic to happen. His tongue danced on me as if he was teasing me. I arched my back anticipating for him to hit the spot, waiting and squirming, until it dawned on me, he couldn’t find the clit.

Y’all heard me. He couldn’t fin- well I won’t say he couldn’t find it, he just was too focused on trying to reenact whatever he saw in porn, which as a grown man, you should know is not real. I tried to grind my waist to where I wanted his tongue to hit and moan when he found it, you know, signaling it. He wasn’t picking up what I was putting down. I even tried to tell him directly, “hey baby, this is what I want you to hit,” but his head was still trash.  Even if it was hitting, it didn’t hit the right way. I was so frustrated. Is this what I was waiting on? So I pulled him up and said “just put it in,” as sexy as I could while trying not to show as much anger as I felt. He put it in slow, leaning down toward my ear in missionary. All the dirty talk in the world about how it feels came spewing from our mouths instinctively and almost telepathically. It’s like we knew the right thing to say each other to get things more heated.

Y’all, I had my world rocked for all of 1 minute and 52 seconds, I kid you not.

Normally, when this happens, I’m not super mad. I almost expect it. Most guys that are my age are still sexually premature in a way. They get excited quickly and finish even quicker. But if y’all could’ve heard the things that this man said to me on the phone… It’s like hearing about a new five-star restaurant that’s supposed to be delicious and satisfying only to get a plate with a nibble on it. You mean to tell me the appetizer AND the entrée was trash?!

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This young man got up under my bed sheets after throwing the condom wherever, talking about some “how was it?” The audacity.

“Sir, get out.”