Erotic Stories: My Sex Diary – Part Five!
March 28, 2016
Dear Diary, the taste of his load inside my mouth was extremely sweet, like strawberry syrup. Of course, there is no cum on earth that would taste as succulent as syrup, but I have to say that it was a taste that I would happily swallow.
‘We should get back to that stop.’
Andreo whispered to me as he brushed my hair back once more. It’s getting late and I don’t want to write anymore, but I will end this journal entry by saying that I’ve cheekily asked him:
‘How do you make your cum as sweet as syrup?’
Tuesday 21st September
Dear diary, there have been a couple of anecdotes that I’ve left out in my last journal entry; a couple which I’ve felt too embarrassed to write down in this book because it was so awkward. Well, as long as you don’t fall into the hands of a person that I have sucked and fucked, then I’m sure that my little secret will be safe with you.
Another secret, that is. I need to look back on my words more often.
Me and Andreo went back to our stop once he finished emptying his load inside my mouth. God, I love the face that he makes when he cums.
We exited the metro at Lambrate FS; the place where all of the architecture students go to get wasted. The bar that we went to was filled with metalheads and indie-punk lovers that were thrashing their heads up and down to the sound of electric guitars being played on stage. I knew Andreo would take me to a place like this.
Anyway, he thrust his way through the bar like a guy pushing his cock inside a hot girl’s pussy. Every little thing I see him do just reminds me of sex; maybe I’m a bit of a sex addict.
He came back with two glasses of Birra Morreti, the only beers that Italians would drink. I wouldn’t have thought that he’d choose San Miguel, but, each to one’s own, I guess.
Afterwards, he wrapped his arm around my waist and squeezed it tight as if he was afraid that I was going to get lost in the wave of people jumping up and down to the rhythm of the music. This was when the awkward moment occurred.
As Andreo placed his lips on my neck and sucked on it gently, I turned to one corner of the room and saw Marcos looking at me. The blood drained away from my skin as I took a big gulp from my beer cup. But I just couldn’t stop thinking:
‘What the fuck is he doing here? This isn’t even his scene!’
A shot of fear struck down my spine when Andreo left me to grab another 2 beers.
I tried to keep my vision on him as he merged into the crowd, but then a rough hand clutched onto my left arm and pulled me towards the main entrance. If I have ever suffered from panic attacks in my lifetime, I would have had on at that point.
As I stumbled a little before retrieving my posture, I saw Marcos in front of me with the most distraught look on his face. He was hollering a mixture of English and Italian words at me, along with a few curse words like ‘slut’ and ‘whore’.
I reminded him that I didn’t feel for him the same way that I did before. While I was arguing with him, I was wondering why he is still hooked onto me. Marcos is a good looking guy with a lot of potential to bed other girls, so why was he standing right in front of me outside of the bar, with tears begging to run down his face?
Oh God…no, oh God.
A thought just entered my mind which I didn’t want to think about. I saw Andreo coming out of the bar with a worried look on his face as he quickly wrapped his arm around me once more. He glared at Marcos fiercely, as if he was a tiger and he wanted to maul on Marcos for threatening his cub.
Marcos stared at me deep in the eyes before walking away and smashing his beer bottle to the ground. I didn’t know what to feel at that point; everything just became a messy blur. Andreo still had his arm locked around me and led me back inside of the bar, telling me to forget about that ‘gilipolla’.
Wednesday 30th September
Just to let you know, my dear diary, this journal entry is accompanied with a hangover. I didn’t expect for the weather in Italy to be hot at this time of year, nor did I expect that I’d find myself in nothing but my lacey underwear and my mesh-textured bra.
Since Andreo is staying over at my place for a couple of days, I decided to give him the key so he can go out and buy whatever Spanish food that he wanted to eat. The guy eats so much paella; I don’t even know how he doesn’t have a tyre around his waist.
The heat was so intense, that I could feel the sweat leaking out of my body and onto my bed sheets. I couldn’t even keep my legs together on that day; that’s how hot it was! Most of my day consisted of blocking out the picture of Marcos’ face from my thoughts.
Ok, my honesty is accompanied with a side of callousness, but that doesn’t mean that I have a heart made out of stone. It did tear my heart open a little when I’ve developed the notion that he still wanted to be with me, but not solely in the bedroom.
I forgot to tell you that I’ve already drunk half a bottle of whiskey with coke during the whole day that Andreo was out. Hey, it is the half term period and I’m allowed to drink whatever would fill my head with imaginative thoughts that I draw in my sketchbook.
I couldn’t bare the heat anymore; I was very tipsy and I needed a shower. As I closed the door behind me, I let my underwear dropped to the floor as if my second skin had fallen off. Only a cold shower was going to aid me through the madness of the heat.
Remind me, my dear diary, that I won’t ever have a half bottle of whiskey and coke again before I head into a shower! All I did was just stand right underneath the shower head as I let the cool water drip all over my body.
I felt all of my emotions and complications tickle down from my body and down the plug hole, as I twist my neck from side to side to make sure that there isn’t a spot of emotional issue left. If you want to know what was left inside me, it was my sexual appetite growling from the pit of my cunt.
While I lean one arm against the wall, I gently stroked my clit with one finger as I spread my legs further apart. I imagined Andreo pressing his hands against my back and sliding them down to feel the softness of my ass; he always loves to grope my ass.
I didn’t know whether the alcohol has messed up my senses, but I wasn’t sure if someone was actually touching my ass while I was in the shower. That was until I felt a soft hand brush against my cheek and I saw Andreo naked behind me.
His hand trailed down in between my legs and rubbed his cock in between my ass cheeks. All I could hear from behind me were the words ‘Relax’. From that moment, a sudden moan filled the bathroom as he slid his cock inside my asshole.
I’ve never experience the coldness of water pattering down on my skin while the heat of a handsome Spaniard inside me. He knows just where and when to fuck me; he must have a good eye.
I felt my breasts press against the tiles as Andreo lifted one of my legs up to push himself further inside me. Thank God I’ve had a cold shower on that evening.
Anyway, what caught me off guard a little bit was that he began to mumble words in my ear. I couldn’t make out the words, but it didn’t matter in the end as he groaned like an injured tiger when he shot his cum inside me. We both slowly fell to the bathroom floor while his arms were still wrapped around me.
Again, thank God I’ve had a cold shower on that evening.
Saturday 7th October
My dear diary, the worries, issues and emotions have flooded back into my brain. I’m going to try and keep this short and sweet as I need to go out with Andreo on another date in a few minutes.
While I was having my coffee this morning, I looked out of my window and saw Marcos staring at the entrance of flat before walking on. I already told him that he should find someone else, so why is he still pining for me?
What makes me different to any other girl that he’d meet at a bar or in one of his art lessons? I’m just a girl who likes sex; that is all. Whenever someone wants more than a fuck on the kitchen sink, that’s when things start to get complicated.
I don’t know, maybe if I haven’t left my initial diary on the train, I would have written to you all of the crazy, happy and depressing things that have happened to me during my studies here in Italy. Oh, well. Life goes on though, doesn’t it? Though, it has been on the same banal road that it has been running along for the past 3 years.
However, my life seemed to have encountered another obstacle, when Andreo took me out on another date a few days ago. It was by the Navigli again; the hour of aperitivo.
We were both having copious amounts of finger food and beers just outside of the bar, where we saw the lampposts illuminate the streets. I was being slightly seductive, as usual, when I brushed his leg with my foot slowly. He smiled at me cheekily, but didn’t do any physical reaction.
‘What has changed? Why has it changed?’
Those were the words that ran through my mind. Some days, I feel like I need to take a chill-pill to put my mind to sleep. Andreo softly placed his hand on top of mine and stroked it with his thumb.
I couldn’t fathom what was going through his mind. Does he not see me as a fuck-buddy anymore? That was the moment when he asked me the question which I dread to answer. I didn’t know how to reply, so I told him that I will answer his question on the day that we would next meet.
That day is today, my dear diary.
She is possibly most famous for her erotic stories, but is equally adept at giving top quality sex advice, all the time bringing in her 'personal experiences'.
When she isn't sharing her most intimate encounters, Zoe keeps herself active by watching videos on Youtube, and listening to music.
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