The Sex Life of Witt

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I Didn't Dump Him Because of His Small Penis. He Was Selfish in Bed.
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I Didn't Dump Him Because of His Small Penis. He Was Selfish in Bed.

An excerpt from my memoir, Sex-Starved.

Mysterious Witt
Mar 19
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Photo by Lorre Huggan from Pexels

As some of you know I’ve been working on a memoir that documents my dating life in the aftermath of my divorce. Devastated by my husband’s cheating and “starved for sex” as a result of our sexless marriage, I went on a sexual journey through Los Angeles. I had a lot of casual sex with different men. Though every experience wasn’t amazing, this was how I ultimately healed from the tragic end of my marriage.

This story isn’t just about all the post-divorce fucking I did. It has a deeper message. My experience dispels the stereotype that women don’t love sex as much as men or that women always need an emotional connection to enjoy a good fuck.

I’m about halfway through the memoir at this point. If you’d like to read what I’ve written so far, you can do so by clicking on the link below.

Click to read my work-in-progress.

That said, here’s an excerpt. If you’ve been reading me for a while, you might recognize part of this piece as one I published a while ago on Medium. You’re right, and I’ve since reworked it as a chapter in my memoir, Sex-Starved.

Here’s the chapter as I’ve reworked it:


I Didn't Dump Him Because of His Small Penis. He Was Selfish in Bed.

The good thing about being forty was that I no longer felt the guilt I once did about having casual sex. As a younger woman, I'd obsessed about my "number," always desperate to keep it down.

I didn't want to sleep with “too many” guys out of fear of being called a slut. I definitely refused to have sex with a man on the first date. I didn't want him to think I was "easy." 

I had to ascertain that he wanted a relationship first before I went to bed with him. The specter of being used by men was just too scary.

This all changed after I left my husband, David. My sexual mindset transformed completely. 

I no longer cared what a man thought about me after we had sex. I couldn't care less if he ever called me again. All I cared about was getting "mine."

And if I was going to get "mine," it had to be good.

Unfortunately, I'd soon find that not every guy cared about whether I was enjoying the sex we had.

I'd meet one man who was particularly selfish in bed.

* * *

Ben and I were on our second date when we found ourselves back at his place. We'd met days earlier on the app, where else?

For our first date, he'd taken me out to a great fusion restaurant where we'd toasted cocktails to our respective divorces. He was a gregarious TV producer, who was married once briefly. He had a daughter from that marriage but saw her only every other weekend.

Now, on date two, we were back at his apartment, fooling around on his sofa. He pushed up my skirt and pulled down my panties, then dove between my legs.

I was eager to receive some cunnilingus. Ben gave my clit a few perfunctory licks then suddenly stopped.

He sat up and unbuttoned his jeans. Okay, he must want me to give him a blowjob, I thought. I like giving head, so I was game. My pleasure would come afterward, I told myself. 

Or so I assumed.

I reached into his boxer shorts and...wow... He was so slender.

And short.

Was he even hard yet?

Yes, he was hard. But... His penis.... It had the dimensions of a magic marker.

I sucked on what there was of it, and before I knew it Ben had come in my mouth. I expected that now that he was "finished" he'd get back to orally pleasuring me.

Don't get me wrong. Ben's small penis wasn't a deal-breaker. I'd dated a man with a small penis before. This was before I met David, and we'd made it work. He was great with his fingers and spent a lot of time going down on me.

When he did penetrate me, he knew how to use his penis so it stimulated me in the right places. He was still able to make me come.

Ben's small penis size had simply caught me off guard. I hadn't expected his member to be so short and slender. 

So it was. I didn't care. 

I basically assumed we'd make sex work as I had with my other boyfriend. Now that Ben had climaxed, I expected he would rock my world with his mouth and/or tongue.

But first, he went off to the bathroom to "clean up." This was strange as I was the one with ejaculate on my face.

When he returned from the bathroom, he was wearing a robe. "I'm going to bed now," he said. "Would you like to sleep over?"

Huh? What I wanted was more sex. I was still hoping to climax. I expected Ben would finish what he'd started on me. I definitely wasn't ready for sleep yet.

We got into bed together but Ben didn't touch me again. He literally wanted to sleep. I was fine about sleeping over now that I had broken my "sleep-over" cherry with Bryce. 

I tried to look at the bright side of this situation. We could try again in the morning.

Ben fell asleep quickly and started snoring.

Maybe he'd had too much food and drink at dinner. Maybe he really was just tired. 

In the morning, he'd have the energy to make love to me and make me orgasm. The next morning came, and we both woke up horny. 

Ben's magic marker was stiff, and I was wet. I stroked his slender member and kept waiting for him to touch me.

He didn't.

He mounted me, slipping his magic marker inside me. A few thrusts later, he came. Then off to the bathroom he went again to "clean up."

Huh?

He emerged in the same robe. "I've got to go to the office now," he said.

I couldn't believe my ears. He wasn't going to get me off, too?

Did he feel entitled because of his money? Or had he not practiced enough with women because of his small penis size?

I didn't care to find out.

Ben called me a couple of days later. I said I was busy. He called a few more times. I wondered if I should tell him the truth.

His small penis wasn't the issue. His selfishness was.


Thanks for reading this chapter. More to come soon!

Much love,

Mysterious Witt

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