Shooting Blanks: PlentyOfCupid

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Author’s Note: This may or may not be based on a true story that may or may not have been emailed to me.


I sat on the toilet, trying to get his cum out of me. How could I let this happen? I was going to get pregnant!

A couple of months previous…

I finished my profile on PlentyOfCupid and reviewed it: Female, 35 years old, of average build, brunette, no kids, doesn’t smoke, looking for a short- or long-term relationship with a 30-40 year old male. Hobbies: camping, card games, movies.

God, I hated trying to sum myself up with a page of words. It was like writing up a resume to apply for a job, but at least most bad jobs didn’t follow you home, nor did they turn you down based on your looks. Well, at least in my line of work (veterinary assistant).

I saved the page and started perusing compatible profiles. Too short…has kids…too pretty (yes, that’s a thing)…this one is…what the fuck? The guy’s profile picture was a photograph of a goose that had been disemboweled. Ugh.

I shut the computer down and went to bed.

I woke up in the morning…alone, of course. My boyfriend of two years had received a job offer to move to Ireland, of all places, and did not take me with him. Four months had passed, and given that I wasn’t a very social person I had been single that entire time and I was getting pretty damn horny!

I checked my email. There was a message from a guy who wanted to tie me up and stick a feather up my ass. I considered it for a moment before deleting it. Ugh.

Over the next few weeks I would go out with the occasional guy who wasn’t a creep over the PoC messaging, but we never seemed to hit it off. The messages I received ranged from the crass (“Hey baby, wanna suck my dick?”) to actual poetry, but by the time I messaged that last one back he had already closed his account. The good ones went fast.

Another week went by and I was getting pretty antsy. After being used to almost daily sex, going cold turkey was not enjoyable. I had to replace the batteries in my vibe every couple of weeks!

Finally, I spotted “PaleWriter”, a 39-year-old guy who looked to be in pretty good shape, was attractive (but not too attractive), and was in the next town over, where I worked. Also, no kids!

I stalked his profile for a bit before deciding to make the first move myself. But what to type? “Hey, wanna fuck?” My nethers said yes but my brain said no. “What’s your favorite movie?” Lame.

Finally, I just quickly typed, “Great smile” and hit Send. I instantly regretted that. What the hell was I thinking? Great smile? Ugh.

The thing about online dating is that you don’t know when someone will get back to you. Some people check their messages a lot, and some not so much. I kept the site up on the screen and went and fixed myself some dinner.

After eating I found that the guy had replied! “Thanks!” he said, “I like your smile too. Where was that picture taken?”

My main pic was a selfie from when I had visited Europe. I had really enjoyed myself while I was there so it was a genuine smile and that pic was my favorite. I replied with the details, asking some more about him.

Over the next couple of days we exchanged a dozen messages. He wasn’t much of a camper but he did like card games, and who doesn’t like movies? He had no pets but he did like cats, and I had a cat!

It wasn’t love at first sight, but it looked promising. I suggested we meet at a local coffee shop the next day. Ladies, always meet an Internet date for the first time in a public place!

I recognized him as he pulled into the parking lot driving a blue Dodge Caliber. As he got out of his car I called to him and he paused as his eyes took in all of me.

He was taller than I thought he’d be, and almost certainly I was shorter than he expected…I’d heard that a lot from the men I met online, as my profile pic only showed my face and shoulders. I didn’t lie about having an average build, but my 5’2 frame made me look…squatter?…than a taller woman with the same measurements. The fact canlı bahis that I had large boobs didn’t help.

However, his face lit up with that great smile and he called my name in greeting. We went into the coffee shop and chatted for a bit.

Again, we didn’t hit it off famously, but it wasn’t bad either. After a bit he suggested going for a walk around a local park and I agreed. I felt pretty comfortable with him by that point, so I took a chance.

We chatted some more on the walk. He had a good sense of humor, though corny. We liked some of the same movies, and we suggested some of our favorites to each other.

Soon we were back at our cars. I hadn’t felt “the spark” with him so I said good night. He looked disappointed but took it graciously.

Another week went by and the pickings were slim. Too far away…bald…five dogs?! Ugh.

Finally, I dropped PaleWriter a line. Would he like to go to a movie?

We watched an action thriller but he didn’t try to put his arm around my shoulders or cop a feel in the dark theater. We chatted for a bit and once he dropped me off at my car I said goodnight and headed home. Another so-so date; not bad, but not good either.

Another week of disappointments (including a guy who looked absolutely nothing like his profile pic meeting me for coffee and proceeding to ignore me while texting) left me extremely frustrated. I messaged PaleWriter again. Dinner at my place?

Things went better this time. He loved my lasagna and my kitty Tiger liked him. We played some gin rummy and watched some TV, but still no spark. I had decided that after the show ended I would ask him to go home and then I would go to bed, alone once again.

Then I saw it: a dark movement along the baseboards near the TV. A mouse! Where was Tiger? Nowhere to be seen, of course.

PaleWriter hadn’t seen the mouse yet, but had turned toward me when I stiffened. He followed my gaze and…

…and the mouse charged! Or at least it headed in our general direction. I screamed, “Eee!”

PaleWriter was up in a flash, grabbing the candy tin from the side table, upturning it so its contents fell onto the floor, and slamming the container over top of the rodent. It was trapped!

“Do you have something flat that won’t bend?” he asked. After a few moments I could move again and grabbed my cutting board from the kitchen. He carefully tipped the tin a little, slipped the cutting board under the slight gap, and then slid it forward until the lip of the upside down tin was fully covered by the board. He then lifted the whole thing up (making me go “Eee” again) and took it over to the back door. I opened it up and he went outside.

I closed the door behind him and watched through the window. He twisted and then spun around, tilting the top of the tin toward him as he did and sending the mouse flying out of my yard with centrifugal force!

When he got back in the house I jumped him.

PaleWriter was definitely a lot better in bed than at dates. He went down on me, juicing me up nicely before he slid a condom onto his nice 7″ cock and fucked me silly with it. I didn’t cum – I usually don’t, requiring a lot of clitoral stimulation – but it felt good.

After that he came over pretty much every day and we fucked every time. After a few days he mentioned that he had had a vasectomy so we really didn’t need to use condoms, but he understood that I didn’t know him that well so he’d continue to use them for as long as I wanted. I appreciated that.

I let him know that we weren’t really a good match but we could have fun for a while. He seemed okay with that…what guy wouldn’t?

He never tried to put his cock in me without a condom on, not even a little. This really helped me to trust him. After a few weeks when I visited his place he pointed me to a piece of paper on the living room table.

“It’s from my doctor,” he said.

My blood ran cold as I thought about what it could say: “Genital warts? HIV positive?” I picked up the paper and read it. “Lab result: Complete evacuation.” What?

“It’s bahis siteleri my sperm test from a few weeks after my vasectomy. Thought you would want to see it,” he said.

Relief washed over me. What an idiot this guy was! What did he think I was going to think when he told me he had a doctor’s note? Men.

Despite the lab report we continued to use condoms. By this point we had been seeing each other for a couple of months.

One night we went to bed together and I was feeling friskier than usual. As he reached for a condom packet I climbed astride his hips and rubbed my pussy lips on the tip of his bare hard cock.

He looked surprised at this, lying there while holding the condom packet. I managed to get the head of his cock between my pussy lips. I was quite wet that night!

“Um,” he said, “condom?”

In answer I pushed my body back harder at his cock. Half of it slipped up inside me. Being almost phobic about getting pregnant, I had never actually had sex without a condom before. It felt good! I could actually feel the warmth of his penis inside me.

He dropped the condom onto the bed next to us and put his hands on my hips. His eyes were filled with lust, and it only spurred me on. I raised my hips a bit to get the right angle and then slid all the way down, burying his cock deep inside me. Again I felt the strange, wonderful warmth of his skin caressing my insides, the sensation no longer deadened by a rubber sheathe.

I moved on top of him, feeling his cock slide in and out as I humped this sexy man. I couldn’t believe I had never tried unprotected sex before, not even during my period when it was safest. I had been missing out! It felt so good!

His hands moved to my boobs, his fingers lightly pinching my nipples. He was pretty good with his hands. I increased my tempo.

“I’m getting close,” he warned me.

I felt my nipples harden under his fingers when I heard that. I continued to bounce.

His eyes roamed my body as I rode him. This was so fucking hot!

“I’m gonna cum.”

Bless him! Even now, right when most men wouldn’t care, he was warning me so I could slip off and put the condom on him.

I trusted him, and I was really fucking horny. I got my face close to his and slid up and down on his cock even faster. I could feel his cock start to swell inside me.

“I’m…cumming!” he called out, and I pressed my lips to his, kissing him passionately as I felt his cock throb deep inside me.

A warm, wet sensation filled me where I had never felt anything like it before. In my mind’s eye I saw his hard cock spurting hot, white semen deep inside me. At that thought I came, hard.

“U-uhhhh!” I gasped into his mouth. My hips pressed down, my ripe, ready body trying to get his cock as far inside me as possible as his cum flooded my depths.

I heard him grunt and his cock throbbed deep inside me again and again. I continued to cum, my body urging the warm substance deeper inside my unplumbed reproductive system.

Finally we both stopped cumming and I collapsed onto his chest, gasping.

After a couple of minutes my mind started to work again, and then I realized what I had just done, and why I had been so horny, so weak minded as to chance having unprotected sex. I was ovulating! Also, being in my mid-30’s, my body’s biological clock was ticking very loudly, and I hadn’t been able to tune it out this time.

I pulled off of his cock and rushed out of the room, heading for the bathroom. I sat on the toilet, trying to get his cum out of me. How could I let this happen? I was going to get pregnant!

After a while I couldn’t get any more of his cum out of me and I had calmed down enough so that I could return to bed. He was already asleep. Typical.

The next day I told him how worried I had been that I was going to get pregnant. He just gave me a wry smile and reminded me that there was no way that could happen because he was shooting blanks, but if I was uncomfortable or unsure then we’d keep using condoms.

What a great guy!

The next night I practically bahis şirketleri tore his clothes off instead of watching TV on the couch.

He pulled my jeans and panties off and asked if I wanted him to grab a condom. I was still ovulating, and combining that, my ticking biological clock, and my renewed trust in him, I said no.

He was all ready to go, easily sliding his hard, unprotected dick into my fertile wet pussy once more. I again marveled at the feeling of skin on skin as his fantastic hot cock filled me up.

This time was a quick, hard fuck on the living room floor. He rammed into me again and again, faster and faster. I could feel an orgasm rising from deep within me, just needing one thing to set it free…

He grunted, thrusting his cock hard and holding it as deep as possible inside me as he came. As I felt his hot cum splash into the core of my being I cried out, my body shaking in orgasm, which was amazing because normally I needed to play with my clit to cum. But prior to the previous night I had never had a man cum inside me unprotected. It was wonderful!

We never used a condom again. We would fuck practically every night, and every time he left his cum soaking deep inside me.

When my period arrived I was relieved. Even with the trust I had placed in my “fuck buddy” there was a small part of me that was afraid that I was being played. With the arrival of “Aunt Flo” all my remaining doubts disappeared.

Over the next month we continued to fuck like rabbits. I rode him in his bed one weekend afternoon and he fucked me from behind when we had a shower to clean up afterwards. For an older guy he had some stamina!

Weekdays, weekends, even Hallowe’en. He fucked me against a wall, lifting my witch costume’s skirt and sliding his hard cock into me again and again until we both came.

I orgasmed pretty much every time he shot his stuff into me. My body loved the feeling of that warm substance deep inside, some base instinct tricked into thinking it was getting the stuff that makes babies even though my brain knew that wasn’t what was happening. At some animal level we weren’t conscious of, our bodies were trying to make a baby together.

When I started to ovulate again I suggested we spend the entire weekend in bed. He must have filled me with his cum a dozen times over that weekend, and I orgasmed hard every time.

“The grass is always greener on the other side,” they say, and I still considered PaleWriter and myself to not be a good match. The sex was great, but that’s not all that makes a relationship, you know?

I had kept my PoC account open, and about a week later I had been contacted by a rather handsome fellow. I informed PaleWriter that I was breaking things off with him, and reminded him that we had agreed that it was only temporary. He understood and didn’t argue or anything. What a nice guy! If it didn’t work out with this new fella I’d take PaleWriter back.

My next period was late but I didn’t really think there was an issue until another couple of weeks had passed. I bought a pregnancy test and it confirmed that I had been knocked up! I hadn’t had sex with the new guy yet so it had to have been PaleWriter!

I texted him and he replied saying he was out of town but there was no way I could be pregnant from him. I told him it had to be his and he said he’d text me when he got back in a few days.

Five days passed with no contact from PaleWriter. I called him but it said his phone number was out of service?! I had a bad feeling.

I jumped in the car and rushed over to his place. Sure enough, his townhouse had a For Rent sign in front of it. I called the owners of the place but they said they couldn’t tell me where PaleWriter had gone because he hadn’t even told them!

I never found him. I’m sitting here now, Tiger lying across my growing belly, purring. I’m pro-choice but I would never have an abortion myself.

35 and pregnant, and after the maternity leave I’ll have to quit my job to take care of the baby. Fucking shit!

Ladies, don’t just believe men when they say they’ve had a vasectomy. Apparently it’s really easy to fake a medical report, and the pleasure of fucking unprotected just isn’t worth the consequences.

It had been really hot, though…

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