I’ve touched on this guy a bit in my blog, but I’ve never really thought that he was worth talking about. He was the first guy after number 8 that I built ‘something’ whatever that something was, with. He was the first one that I felt I could open up to a bit to, after everything went down, after a summer of shagging, he was the one that I thought I would settle down to, with. Which is stupid, but whatever.
He was a small kinda guy. Like I felt a bit like Hagrid standing next to him, he was quite tiny. He had tiny little hands, baby feet, and of course, a tiny dick. Like it was about three inches. (maybe that’s being a bit harsh, maybe it was about 4 and a little bit if we were being generous). But he was so beautiful. High cheekbones, deep blue eyes, cute lips… like the guy that 15 year old me had fantasized about, in between humping my pillow, thinking about my history teacher. It was such a shame he was so small though, and I’m not superficial enough to be going on about his cock. I felt humongous next to him – he was so cute and delicate, and then there was me, not the smallest person on earth… but hey.
We met at a fetish event, it was my kinda pick up cruising joint for a little bit, I had a lot of sex thanks to that event, and it’s still one of my favourite events to attend, when I’m in London. He was with a stunning girl, who is now a good friend of mine, and we just got chatting about The Smiths – he looks a BIT like Morrissey, but shrunk down, and he can sing, I was swooning. We exchanged Fetlife details, and we made a plan to see each other before I went off to uni. We met up at my favourite bar, and we got drunk. I’d been out already with my family, and he was wearing kitten ears and he was just so cute, I wanted to wrap him up and fuck him. Weird.
So we were chatting about Lady Gaga in this bar, and I was feeling my way up his leg, and unbuttoning his jeans, and trying to keep the conversation going. When he helped me out a bit, and asked me if I liked it, I wasn’t sure what he meant – I just remember thinking, in my head ‘this has got to get bigger than this, seriously, it’s gotta grow’, but it didn’t. I was doing a kind of vertical wanking, so that the tips of my fingers were brushing against his body, whilst my palm was getting the head of his cock. If you do that action, you’ll see how small it was. He was also the guy that taught me that there is NOTHING more awkward than giving a handjob to a small cock. It just doesn’t look right. Gently vibrating your hand from left to right, just looks a bit ridiculous.
So we went back to his on the promise of cocaine (I was post break up still getting high for free as often as I could), there was none, alas. He lived in a bedsit in Hackney, and we started fucking. First time was face down, ass up, that’s the way I really do like to fuck.
I had to go off to uni, halfway across the county, but we promised to stay in touch. I was coming down around Halloween, to go to a mad fetish night with him in Vauxhall, and of course, another friend, RD (who I will talk about at another point, he’s fun). We were going to go to that bar, get hammered, have lots of sex, and go shopping in Camden for a costume, and go our separate ways, and pick up again at the club.
But before we did that, that night, he’d tried to be all Dom with me and that’s not something I take to, lightly. I like it, doesn’t every girl, but he was just being a bit of a prick with it. He was going on and on, whilst I was sucking his cock, that he was going to come all over my face, and I wouldn’t be allowed to wash it off. One thing I remember about his come, (and we are going back a good two and a half years here) was it was very gloopy. Very thick. It kinda makes me feel a bit gross thinking about it.
So, he came on my face, and was telling me what a good little slut I was, how well behaved I was being for Sir (and I was getting really… cheesed off, typical side eye, not feeling particularly cheerful about things at this point). So I stood up, and he thought I was leaning in, to kiss him, but I grabbed him by the back of the head, hand in his hair, and pushed my comed on cheek up to his, whispered in his ear, that he better clean this off, now, or there would be trouble. He felt the dynamic shift considerably, and did as he was told. He hurried off to get toilet paper, after I’d let go of him, but I said no, that he had to use his tongue.
Whilst that might not have been the most pleasurable experience in the world, having someone lick my face (if I wanted someone or something to do that, I’d get a dog), it was kinda hot that this guy with the tiny dick, was licking his sperm off my face. And he was enjoying it, he was a little come slut after all.
I guess the real reason of this post though, is to tell you about the way he got his name.
He asked me, after this come licking off face incident, he asked me if I would piss on him.
I’d never done watersports before, but it had always interested me, incredibly humiliating, and the perfect way to finish off his fall from grace – going from the top, falling to the bottom, an element of symbolism I always appreciate in my play.
So, I pounded a good pint of water, and that of course made me feel less confident, because we were more than a little drunk (but only drunk, nothing else) but I thought ‘why not, let’s just do it’.
So he arranged himself in the shower, on the floor, naked, like a snivelling wretch. I was a bit worried, I don’t think anyone had ever seen me from that angle before, all the way, up into my cunt, but it was okay. I squatted over the toilet, to trigger the stream (you have no idea how hard it is to pee on command, when it’s not a toilet?), did a kind of incredibly attractive crab walk over to the bath, spread my lips, and let the stream flow forth.
I remember him rolling his head back, whilst he washed himself in my stinky piss, getting it all in his hair, opening his mouth, tasting my piss. It was a very bizarre experience, but when I got into Pro Domming (which is another story for another day), it was one of my favourite things to do.
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