Mr 911

There are times in our lives, and I’m sure I speak for a lot of people here, where a situation occurs and it knocks you so far off of your feet that at times, you aren’t sure how to process it, let alone deal with your own feelings around it.

This blog post is dedicated to someone called Mr 911 (J). A person that took me so deeply into a situation that when the bubble burst, I felt as though he had died because the grief was so severe.

It’s not been easy to write this post. In fact, even reading through the messages that I so cleverly whatsapped to my best friend 2 years ago, has stirred fear, embarrassment and complete hatred for another individual. The people reading this that know me IRL will say that I am not a hateful person, and the only person that knows the depths of this situation is my best friend K.

The embarrassment I feel in writing this post stems from the fact that I let my guard down SO heavily, I ended up more wounded than Lt Dan.

It all started on a sunday afternoon. I was at K’s house and we had ordered Domino’s – we were watching The Wizard of Oz and were so hungover from the night before that K fell asleep on the sofa. I browsed Tinder for a while and a match popped up.


Jesus, even thinking about his phycial appearance now makes me quiver. Imagine a 6 ft, dark haired, brown eyed, muscular GOD. In fact, I’m not sure he was even human. He had the perfect smile too – incredible teeth and just a ‘warm’ look about him. His eyes were like chocolate buttons – I cannot describe what he looked like in enough detail – if I could post a photo, I would but I don’t feel that would be fair. Even though he was King Cunt of Cunt Mountain.

He was one of those people who you see on a dating site and you assume that his photo’s have been doctored or photoshopped because there just couldn’t be any way that this specimen was going to match with a 5’6 green eyes, purple haired potato from Sussex. I was sitting there instantly thinking that he was obviously sitting at his PC in Marvel pants with a plaster fixing his glasses and a pot of lube next to his keyboard…

I don’t often wish for different experiences in my life, because the past makes us who we are today but if I could go back and erase the memories of what happened, I 100% would because I had absolutely no idea of the shit storm that was headed my way over the next few months.

Anyway, I digress.

We matched and low and behold he messaged first. The chat is GOOD. Like, theres no way this guy can be THIS good looking and have a personality even better than his arm muscles. I’m dubious but I carry on chatting. We decide to swap numbers and the chat moves to Whatsapp. K is still sparko at this point so I see no harm in passing the hours of a sunday afternoon talking to someone who has, to be frank, set my hoohah on fire.

Oh he is smooth. If I were to rate him against a jar of Sun-Pat, he would win everytime. I mean, I don’t have anything against peanut butter but christ this guy knows his shit.

I am interested. He is intelligent, driven, funny, he doesn’t shorten his words or use text speak, he is complimentary – I swear to myself that I’ve won the dating app lottery.

K wakes up and she almost pee’s her pants with excitement. I try not to let myself get too carried away – I am VERY defensive and protective of myself and I’m not used to the kind of attention he is giving me. K is very much a glass half full kinda woman and she tells me to relax and enjoy it. Obviously I show her the photos and we sit and talk about the messages we’ve exchanged. She is so excited for me, I allow myself to get swept into this little bubble and it only progresses over the next few weeks. jj1

He messages me EVERY day, sends me good morning texts, asks me questions, takes a genuine interest in my life. Interested in my studies, my friends, my family, my past relationships – if you could wish for someone to show they are interested in you – J is KILLING it. He makes me feel important. He makes me feel special. He makes me feel like the prettiest girl in the world and like I had won the jackpot on the lottery EVERY DAMN DAY.

We would watch Love Island and text about the show – each night, it became our thing. He would always tell me how he would choose me over the girls on there any day of the week. HE KNEW EXACTLY WHAT TO SAY.

I think in my mind, I always knew I shouldn’t have let my guard down as much as I didjj3 but my confidence was low. He was boosting my confidence day by day and it felt like it was exactly what I needed. I trusted that this situation was real – and on reflection, that is something I have taken away from the awful experience it turned out to be. I now no longer trust easily and I like to take my time deciding if a situation is right for me. I’ve become highly risk adverse and it’s actually served me pretty well apart from Mr A.

Anyway, he wanted to meet. Fuck I was so nervous. Like, I looked in the mirror and genuinely saw a potato and then thought of him – who I can only describe in food terms as Caviar. Exquisite and so chiselled, he was literally perfect physically. The emotional side seemed perfect too. Could he really be as amazing as he came across?

So hard to find the balance between realism and cynicism. Something I have become very good at determining in the past 2 years.

I got ready and posted a photo on my Instagram. Lots of people commented and I felt pretty good in how I looked being dressed up – isn’t it amazing how we can allow social media to influence how we feel about ourselves depending on where we are in life at that very moment? I needed a confidence boost and I got it. It had done the job and I set off feeling like a sassy woman ready to take on the world.

We had decided we would have drinks and stay together. Yes – I  know what you are all thinking – it was obvious what was going to happen. I am an adult and I am allowed to make choices like that.

I called him to let him know I had arrived – I got in the lift and walked out into the hallway. I stopped dead in my steps. There he was. All tall and handsome and muscular and oh my god he was legitimately beautiful. I walked towards him and he ran up to me, I dropped my bag and he swept me into his arms, feet off the floor, bear hugging me so tight, and I just tried to breathe him in. It was honestly like something out of a film – I couldn’t of imagined a better greeting. He just looked at me and kissed my cheek when he put me down and smiled at me. I WAS GONE. I cannot even put into words what was happening in my head and in my knickers. I couldn’t believe he was real. He was right here in front of me and he had grabbed my hand and led me to the room.

There was champagne waiting and the room was just SO NICE. He put my bag down and got me a drink, he just kept saying over and over that he couldn’t believe I was there and that he was so pleased I had agreed to meet him. I had no reason to disbelieve him. He had been a constant in my life for about 2 months now and it had been every day. I never even thought about why it took us so long to meet – the thought didn’t cross my mind really – I was busy with work and coming to the end of my first year of my HR qualification and my mind was constantly elsewhere – he was a lovely distraction. jj2

We had drinks and spoke for hours. About past, family, relationships and I swear I thought at that time that this man was going to become more than someone in my phone that I got wet knickers over. It was SO much more than that. That night will honestly stay with me forever. From the conversations, to the laughter, to the calls to my best friend where they spoke because she was also out on a date and we decided to call each other. he won her over too and it was just…… almost like this was just meant to be? I honestly do not know how else to describe it.

In the early hours we went to bed and we were just lying there, in the dimmed light, talking. He moved towards me and his nose touched mine. His right hand was on my left cheek, moving from my cheek to my hair being shifted out of my eyes, my neck, my shoulder – he was incredibly affectionate, but not in a weird way. It felt right.

I remember thinking at the time, this is the sort of shit that happens in films, not to me! He was what I truly thought every woman would desire,not just his physical form but his gestures, nature and body language too.

Then it happened. The nose touch moved to him touching my lips and the softest kiss I had experienced in my life to date.

His tongue was so warm and it darted in and out of my mouth with such confidence. He knew how to kiss a girl thats for sure. The thing that made it feel so incredible was that he had wrapped his other arm around the back of my head and his right hand had found mine – fingers interlinked and his thumb stroking my hand whilst he just kissed me to death. You know those kisses that literally take your breath away? It was that a thousand times over.

I was fully dressed still and I had a blue patterned cardigan on with jeans and a black vest. He unhooked his arm from behind me, laid me on my back and climbed on top of me. He pulled the cardigan down over my left shoulder. His lips moved to my skin and kissed my shoulder, he was pulling the cardigan down slowly until he could release my arm – I knew I had to sit up because I needed to release my other arm and it was getting uncomfortable. I pushed him backwards so I could sit up properly and he somehow managed to pull me up, wrap both of my arms around his neck and lift me onto his lap in one movement. His biceps – holy fuck, they honestly were like something out of a Magic Mike movie.

So I am currently sat on his lap on top of a massive bed and he is removing my cardigan fully, all whislt looking at me and smiling. Fucking hell, that smile. I swear it would’ve melted the polar ice caps had they been privvy to it. He threw my cardigan on the floor and my arms return to being wrapped around his neck – his hands were sliding up and down my back – at first on top of my vest and then one slipped underneath. Warm and soft and he digs his fingertips in at the right moment to make me arch my back which in turn makes me push my hips down into his groin. I can feel his hard on as I do this and it sends a spark right through me. I kiss him hard, my tongue pushing into his mouth and my right hand grabbing his hair and my left positioned on his cheek, stroking his face. I feel like a fucking goddess at this point and I know that he wants more – as do I.

He pushes me down onto the bed and pins both of my hands above my head. He spreads my legs with his knee and pushes down into me so I can feel him through his jeans. Oh my.

He kisses me again, back to that soft, confident, probing tongue. His hands release my arms but I leave them there. He pulls the bottom of my vest up so he can see my tummy and he moves his head down and kisses me all over, slowly pushing my vest up further and further until my bra is exposed. I chose a blush pink colour with navy flowers and cream lace. Its a thin material and I know my nipples are hard and very visible. He moves his mouth over my bra, SO SOFTLY I almost want to cry. I want him to pull my bra down and take my nipple in his mouth but he doesnt do that. He skims over my nipple and moves to the curve of my breast at the top of my bra cup. His tongue slides underneath the cream lace and its so warm. He moves from the centre of my cleavage right up to my bra strap and he repeats it on the other side.

He stops and he pulls my vest up over my head but he leaves my bra on. He moves down the bed and pulls my jeans down. I have never felt so happy to be wearing matching underwear! And it feels such a nice set too – so silky and smooth. One of my favourites. The only thing ruining the image is the socks and I tell him he better take them off because they’re ruining the image. He tells me he likes them and wants to keep them on and then he laughs and literally falls back on top of me, nuzzling into my neck whislt still giggling to himself.

He is fully clothed and I am lying there in my underwear. I tell him that I want his clothes off and he doesnt even think twice. He pushes up onto his knees and removes his tshirt and FUCKING HELL MOTHER OF MARY he is a damn GOD.

I suddenly felt very conscious in my underwear because this is like one of those moments where you wait for something for so long and when it comes, its shit. This is how I envisage him feeling – like when you’re at the end of a night out and you want a prime chicken shish (J) and then when it comes, Pete the kebab man ruins that prime chicken by squeezing shit mayo (me) all over the meat – I’m lying there in AWE of this greek god sent from heaven into my life. Don’t even get me started on his six pack. I am not one for muscular men – I have always preferred a dad bod myself but I catergorically cannot deny what this man is doing to me with his phsyical presence. He has a tattoo on his right bicep too and I love it. There is not one visible part of him that isn’t toned.

He edges off the bed so he is standing at the end of it, and while keeping my gaze, he removes his jeans. Tight white boxers that are literally not hiding anything. My eyes cannot stop gazing at him.

He climbs back onto the bed and sits himself on his knees between my legs. He leans forward and his hands run from my shoulders, over my breasts, down to my knickers where he pulls the waistband and before I know it he is again edging off the end of the bed and taking my knickers with him, down my legs and over my ankles. Luckily he decides to remove my socks at this point, thank fuck.

So, now I’m naked on the bottom and fully exposed. Whilst he is standing at the end of the bed he tells me to take my bra off. How the hell am I going to do this without looking like a cinnamon roll?! Only without the icing. I have to think on my feet and I tell him I want him to do it.

He walks round to the left side of the bed and tells me to turn over onto my front. I do so and I am very aware that my arse is completely exposed. He unhooks my bra and tells me to slide it off and put it on the floor. He also tells me to stay lying on my front. I obey.

I am on my front, naked as the day I was born with my hands palm down on the duvet either side of me. He climbs onto the bed and moves on top of me. HE HAS REMOVED HIS BOXERS. He is clearly fucking flash lightening because I didn’t even see him do it. Oh my god his dick is so hard and its right there pushing between my legs into my arse cheeks. It feels so good. His hands are on top of my hands and he is kissing my right ear. I start to wriggle because that shit gets me HOT faster than I spend my money at Charlotte Tilbury.

He definitely understands what he is doing and bites my ear lobe making me cry out – whilst pushing his rock hard cock against me, making me wish he was inside me then and there. This feels good. I know I am getting very wet.

In a split second he stops, he gets up and orders me off of the bed. He tells me to go over to the dressing table and in front of this there is a huge mirror that spans the length of half the room. There is a chair and he tells me to pull it out with the back facing the mirror. I do as I am told. He tells me to step back so he can see me full frontal.

He sits down and he tells me he wants me to sit on him and fuck him whilst watching myself in the mirror.

I am a little surprised but I want to do it. He is sitting on the chair and fucking hell I am struggling to stand still on my legs because the sight of him is just beyond words. And he is SO confident. He suddenly wraps his hand around his cock and starts to play. He tells me he is ready for me.

I walk over – at this point I can be likened to Bambi trying to walk for the first time and I swear I am leaving a trail on the carpet from how turned on I am.

As I reach the chair he removes his hands and lifts his arms as if to steady me when I finally sit on him. I put both arms out – to the wooden table behind him, which means that my breasts are in his face and my hair is cascading down over his face. I grip the table to steady myself and lift my right leg so I am half sitting on him and I pull my left leg around to the other side so I am literally poised over his cock.

I almost dont wan’t to sit down as I know I wont get this feeling back – the first time I feel him inside me. But I absolutely cannot wait and I position myself and lower myself down onto him.

WOW. He gasps and so do I. This is a good position. I start to rock slowly and my hands are still on the table behind him. My hair has kind of shielded us from the outside light and its very dark there in that little bubble. His hands are on my hips helping me gather my momentum. He tells me to look up and into the mirror and I flick my hair to the left and it falls on my shoulders.

At this point, I am sat there on top of him looking at myself in the mirror. I can see the back of his head and his shoulders – my hands move to his shoulders now and I’m kind of glad I painted my nails because they look so good against his skin – light pink against tanned skin.

I am fucking him whilst looking at myself in the mirror. Fuck this is hot. Like seriously hot. I look…… womanly! I look fucking good actually. I can see my breasts moving up and down and my hips in the mirror and oh my god this is turning me on so much. He is enjoying it too because his groans are getting deeper and his breathing is quickening. As much as I am enjoying it, I do not want this to be over any time soon. So I stop. I tell him I want him to fuck me now.

He lifts me off of him and moves the chair. He tells me to face the mirror and bend over. YES – PLEASE FUCK ME FROM BEHIND. He comes up behind me and pulls my hair to one side of my head. He spreads my legs and tells me to lean over further. Suddenly he slams into me and I cannot lie, I lost my breath for a second. He tells me to look up and all I can see is him slamming into me and my body being pushed forward. I catch his eye and he does not drop my gaze. It is so intense and I legitimately cannot stand much longer. My legs feel so weak. There has been no foreplay with hands or mouth – literally fucking straight away and my body cannot take it – it isnt ready to take this with no preparation…..I tell him my legs are weak and he stops. He spins me around and lifts me onto the table – he pushes me down so I am half sitting and half lying and he drops to his knees. My legs are hanging off of the edge and before I know it, his head is between my legs and his tongue is running the length of me, softly – warm, long, silky soft strokes.

HOLY SHIT I AM GOING TO CUM ALL OVER HIS FACE. He is an expert. He knows what he is doing. His hands have parted me and his fingers are lightly running the length of me the same time as his tongue.

I CANNOT TAKE THIS. It is so intense after how he has just fucked me. My hands are supporting my weight and I am whimpering at this point – my thighs are shaking and my head is thrown back because the pleasure is simply unreal. Fuck I need to cum so badly. The feeling a woman experiences just as an orgasm builds is something I wish I had the words to explain but I dont. Its like a warm fuzzy, all enveloping feeling and I am getting so close to this.

He must know because he stops. He stands up and I’m wondering what the fuck he is doing – FINISH MY ORGASM DAMN YOU!

He pulls me towards him and lifts me up, legs wrapped around his waist. Oh my god its like nothing I’ve experienced before. He is so strong and manly.

He carries me into the bathroom and turns on the shower……..

Part Two of Mr 911 coming soon……..

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