Mr. Studded Crown

As I said in my Intro these will be in no particular order in my life but moreso of who comes to mind. Let's chat about Mr. Studded Crown.

See me personally, I love sucking dick. Just typing that out is making my pussy throb. Most of the time I don't even suck dick for the dude I'm fucking. It's to get ME off. I don't do it to all dudes because all dudes really aren't deserving of it from me. Those are just the fuck me and STFU dudes. However, introducing Mr. Studded Crown. I met him at a tattoo shop to where I'd gotten some ink done but had brought in a friend to get some. As we walked into the artist's room there was a tall (6'2"), dark specimen of a man standing with his shirt off and back towards the door. As my and my dude walked in and I saw his back I instantly said in a low Wendy Williams voice "Mmmmmm how YOU doin?" My dude Steve heard me and just laughed. He didn't mind because he likes guys his damned self. He had ink EVERYWHERE....nice.

He turned around, putting his shirt back on after discussing more ink that he wanted and where to the artist.

I digress.

I have this thing for tall men. Preferably darker skinned, but have no problem with the caramel boys. I like nice bodies....REALLY nice bodies. I work out, so you can't think that you gonna get some of this gorgeousness and YOUR shit ain't right. FUCK THAT. Step your workout game up. I deal with mostly athletically shaped men who carry themselves a certain kinda way. I can't give you too much particulars other than the fact that all the men I have or presently deal with have some sort of SWAG about them. Alot of them have been artists, corporate, thugs...whatever. But there must be SOMETHING about you other than your looks that intrigues me. You have to be able to speak. You have to know a few things...talk to me. Show me you can hold a conversation with me that doesn't just sound like "Yo Ma, what's REALLY good? Can I come through?" Nigga please. Keep it movin'.

So as Steve takes a seat this tall dark specimen chose not to leave the room but instead stand there and look at Steve and then stare at me. So I'm looking at Steve waiting for any kind of notion that he is not comfortable with this man in the room while he gets inked. I didn't see any. I was dressed all the way down that day. Newsboy hat pulled low over my eyes, minimal makeup - just a touch of shimmer across the cheekbones and mascara, a thick hooded wrap sweater under a black trench with some skinny jeans and over the knee boots. I tell him if he is going to stare to either say something or take a pic because it will last longer. We go at it back and forth mouthing off for another 20 minutes. I had to let this character know that just because his skin was chocolate milk with a couple of extra teaspoons of Nestle mixed in, and that his lashes were as long as mine, and that his eyes sparkled constantly, and that his lips were some of the juiciest I’d ever seen as he licked them in an LL kinda way, and that he had a bald head and a shadowed beard shaped to perfection, that I would NOT get entrapped in that gaze that he wouldn’t take off of me and that I would NOT be rendered speechless with his smart assed mouth because I run with the best of them.

I knew that before we even exchanged numbers that I was going to fuck his brains out. I was gonna make this dude love me JUST because I can. And so we exchanged numbers.

*sigh*

In speaking with him for a few days I realized a few things. He was a Chatty Charlie. He ran his mouth non fucking stop. All from the clothing line he has (which I won’t mention because you’ll see him and I’m not about calling people out…well..maybe when I stop dealing with him LMAO), to bragging about all the women who want him and blahblahfuckingblah, (that, by the way is a trademark of Harlem dudes.), and brag about how big his cock was among other things. But the kickers were as follows: he doesn’t have a car and he’s 30 and SELLS WEED. Um yea no. The ONLY thing you can do for me is put THOSE lips on my box and fuck me thank you. Nothing more, nothing less.

His living situation is not my ideal. Shares with his brothers or something like so. Anyway I told him I wanted to fuck and he went and got a hotel room and called me a cab. As soon as I got there I started stripping. By the time he came out of the bathroom, I was already in bed under the sheets. He got in the bed and started CUDDLING.

*blinkblink*

Where the FUCK do they do that at? That’s DEF not what I was there for.

I grabbed his dick and saw that he wasn’t lying. It was long and thick, just how I like em.

In a conversation we’d had earlier in the week about oral sex, he’d told me that he’d had a Studded Crown. Now I had an idea of what he meant but asked him to elaborate. He did. Said he has ridges around his dick like the studded condoms (that I dislike) and it’s been like that all his life. He said doctors said it’s not uncommon and that it’s normal.

Whatever.

I digress.

I LOVE to kiss. I think it’s a very important part of foreplay that should not be skipped. I love to do it and am very good at it and if I feel I can’t kiss you then more than likely I am not fucking you. If I find that you can’t do it, I am completely turned off and will dry up quicker than a Bounty pick up.

So I went in on the kissing of his gorgeous lips of his, nibbling and sucking on his bottom lip teasing and tantalizing as he squirmed beneath me. He flipped me over and pushed my shoulders back on the bed and I watched as his bald head disappeared to the Love Below. THIS MUHFUCKA can give good head. Not as good as Mr. I Need Your Box in My Mouth (but that’s another blog), but close. He played with my hardware, licking and sucking like it was his last meal. If I didn’t know any better I’d thought that he forgot that I was in fact, there with him and it wasn’t just him and the box. He had my shit THROBBING.

Niagra Falls. On.

I couldn’t take it and all I wanted was the cock in me. After he put the hat on I jumped up and pushed him on the bed and climbed up on the dick. I rode that shit hard and fast. I was very aggressive and I think it caught him off guard because when I looked down at his face he was just staring at me with his mouth open. I rode him like I owned him. I figured I’d let him have some fun so I got up and bent over the edge of the bed and let him dig in. I knew he was about to cum and he did.

He went to dispose of the condom and I was left horny as SHIT. I wanted to suck some dick. When he came back he was still hard so I climbed back on top of him to let my lips meet his head. The moan that came out of him made me start to leak down my leg and that’s when I felt it.

The Studded Crown.

The ridges in my mouth. They were at the bottom of his head around the girth. I pulled back and tried to peer at it in the tv-lit room but couldn’t see much. THIS wasn’t gonna work. I started thinking about shit that you don’t want to think about when you have sex.
What the FUCK was that in my mouth?? Is my mouth going to breakout? What’s the ratio of men that have this “common” diagnosis? Out of ALL my conquests this was the first.

I ran my thumb around the circumference and realized that it felt just like a studded condom. *sigh* I couldn’t do it and I wasn’t going to front like I could be ok with it. It freaked me out. He asked what was wrong.

“I don’t like the way your dick feels in my mouth, I can’t do it.”

“AWWWWW MANNNNNNNN”

He knew why. I couldn’t have possibly been the first woman to have had an issue with this. So he knew.

He flipped me over and went back down for dessert at the Love Below. I got to buss off in his mouth a few times and I was good.

He rolls over, looks me in my eyes and says "You're mine." Over and over and over.

Nigga please.

He gives good head, good dick, and can kiss well. It’s unfortunate that I can’t get my rocks off sucking him off. Has anyone else experienced the Studded Crown effect? I’m curious.