There’s been a lot of ways people (and we’ll stick with people because it’s boys and girls) have gotten into my pants, some legitimate, worthy and deserved and some, not. But of all of them there’s been some very cheeky ones that deserve a mention.
The guy who scaled the back wall and got in to my bedroom 3 floors up. If this sounds a bit threatening, it’s not. I knew him and I had slept with him before, I enjoyed him immensely. He knew well how to capitalise on this. I had left the club that night because I didn’t want to succumb to his charms. But when someone breaks into your house (admittedly not actually locked) and tells you they need your mouth around their cock? Call me what you like but I found that flattering and was not about to see that much effort go without reward.
I loved his cock. I loved sucking it for hours. I loved the subtle noise he made and the way he looked at me like he was going to devour me. Which was ironic really, given that our time together usually consisted of me eating him? He was the first guy who made a really big deal about how much he loved it, I was pretty sure I was good, I’d put in a lot of work, but the way this guy seemed to crave it, desire it? It was a new level. He told me that if I ever needed to be reminded that I could just call and say so, he’d know exactly what I meant and would reassure me.
Twice I’ve made that call.
And twice he was true to his word.
We won’t get into either of the farces that led to me needing to hear him say it.
The giant Viking of a guy who followed me to the loo at a party any time I went. It was very clever, the forced intimacy broke down my barriers. We weren’t even chatting he just managed to talk me into letting him in every time and promised he wouldn’t look. I didn’t let him the first time but he wore me down with gentle persuasion. I was there at the party with another boy, so I had no interest in this guy which led me to let my guard down, what did I care if he came to the loo with me, I wasn’t trying to impress him. But he was playing the longer game. They guy I was with was only ever going to be for that night and that night only – he was a tourist. But the Viking… he was interested in more and didn’t give a shite if that guy got me for one night, he wanted more and he lived in Dublin. And when we all went for recovery drinks the next night, he was straight over wanting details of how I got on with the tourist. I was happy to regale him still not copping on that this was all part of the wooing. I gleefully told him I’d had the arse ridden off me and was delighted with myself. He raised it, and countered that if I’d actually had the arse ridden off me then how I was sitting down so comfortably. Then added what it was that he would have done so that I really wouldn’t be able to sit down. (as if he already knew what I liked)
For everything I added to what he ‘could’ have done to me, for me to use the term correctly, he upped it. Until the language changed and he was promising to do this to me, should he ever get the chance? And at some point I reached saturation point of all the delicious, hard, forceful things he could hypothetically do to me and I actually wanted him to do them. He had worked on me for less than 24hs and there he was, in my knickers. It had gone from me having zero sexual interest in him to me unable to think straight, I wanted him so much.
(we actually ended up going out for a while)
I think the very cheekiest though was a young fella who tricked me. Yup. Tricked me. And in a way I absolutely do not want to encourage. I’m not telling you this story so that it can be imitated, it’s hardly likely to work again, but also it really could have gone quite badly, it’s awful actually – but I really feel like it’s a great story so I’m going to trust you guys and tell you anyway.
(If the first story upset you then this is when you should stop reading)
At some point over the last few years (let’s be vague on some of the details at least) I was advertising for a new housemate. I mentioned it on Facebook, but not my actual address. But from the way I talked about things a guy I didn’t really know, but who I chatted to every now and then and was highly entertained by, figured out where it was. It wasn’t rocket science, I talk about the same areas of Dublin and with even a tiny iota of determination you could find (from the top 2 accommodation sites) what might be my place. So, even though I have a fake name on Facebook*, I hadn’t given the address or anything if you had a bit of time you could figure out which ad was mine. Which he did.
But I knew his name, so he couldn’t just email me pretending to be interested in the room. So he set up a fake email address and contacted me pretending to be interested, and making himself seem like a prime candidate for perfect roommate. So of course I responded, asked a few more questions, started thinking this was a funny, cool guy that I think I would be very happy to show the room to.
Just to rewind a little bit, I have no idea how I was friends with this guy on Facebook, I know it wasn’t through anyone I knew, or at least wasn’t anyone I could remember, and he was a bit younger than me. But Facebook is like that you have loads of people in your book that you can’t remember collecting. Probably more pertinent to this story though is the fact that we flirted outrageously with each other. All the time. Ok not actually all the time, but when we did comment on each other’s stuff, it quickly got to flirty. His comments would have me peeing myself laughing. I found him the charming side of cheeky and I was sure there was some real smarts going on, the jokes weren’t obvious or trite, not everyone got them.
So, our email correspondence re the room to rent culminated in me deeming him worthy of an interview so I gave him a time slot of when to come round and …. my number in case he got lost. Poor naïve little me.
On the night that he was to view the room I had 3 other viewings – I was wrecked by the time he got there. I opened the door, welcomed him in and then – then I realised that I thought he looked familiar. He didn’t deny it, but he pulled out a bottle of wine and said you can throw me out or we could drink this and have a laugh about it. I cracked up laughing. It seemed hilarious and god damn did I want a glass of wine. This housemate search had been arduous. We drank the wine, we drank a second bottle of wine and I was being very entertained but there was nothing else happening. If he had other intentions he wasn’t being direct about it. UNTIL he asked if I wanted to see his penis. Once again, at this point I should remind people that this is not a tactic that I recommend and not a move I think will go down well and that’s not even counting the mild stalking. But I generally like being offered a look at someone’s cock – I like it even more if I think they plan on letting me touch it.
I should probably admit too that I’d seen it before. He was circumcised and had Snapchat-ed me a pic of it. Even so, this announcement was a jump in direction. I declined, I wasn’t sure whether any of this was a good idea. I wasn’t sure if I should be rewarding this kind of behaviour by making it successful. He asked was I sure I didn’t want to… and I hate to turn down seeing a penis from someone I might be attracted to, but we’d had a lot of wine. His next move was to say ‘Well, I think we should at least kiss’. And that was the end of my resolve. He was a phenomenal kisser and there was real electricity when we kissed. And so he was most definitely getting it.
I can’t tell you what happened after that because I don’t remember blow by blow. But I know we were both happy with it as it wasn’t the only time it happened.
If anyone wants to top that for outright cheekiness, please go ahead. Fortune favours the bold, or maybe Abbi just does?
*now completely defunct so feel free to waste your time looking for it