• Samantha managed to make Tim feel like Zeus before things fell apart
Image: Silhouettes of a man and a woman in a Covid-like circle
“Why did you call me? I mean, I know why, but why me?” Tim asks.
I look at him for a long minute and it hits me that even when you give a man no-strings attached sex on a silver platter, he still needs assurances regarding his ability to pull a woman. Oh, crap. I have to build his ego up, to get him hard.
“Have you looked in the mirror lately?” I ask with a half smile. “You’re gorgeous.”
As soon as the words leave my lips, I know it’s a mistake. One I keep making. When stroking the male ego, one must exaggerate the truth but not tell an outright lie. He is not gorgeous by anyone’s standards. But now he will believe he is. He pushes out his chest.
“I’m working out as well,” he says, grinning sheepishly.
“I can see that,” I respond. “My, what big muscles you have.”
A huge grin spreads as easily as butter on toast. For women, the bad stuff about us is the easiest to believe. For a man, the best stuff about them is the easiest to believe.
I was in a forum once where a woman said she’d take two more questions and the press conference would be over. After she responded to them, everyone started packing up their equipment, except three men who kept asking questions. Two of them got answers.
The men who kept asking questions that day were told by a woman before they left the house that morning, how much she admired their resilience. That was all the motivation they needed. To make this man in front of me perform like Zeus, all I have to do is tell him something, anything, that makes him feel like Zeus.
“Oh my,” I say touching his arms. “I bet you could lift me up easily with these,” I say.
Mission accomplished. He’s hard as a rock.
“Touch my glutes,” he says grabbing my palms and stretching them behind him to grab his butt. “Feel that.”
“Oh yeah, nice and tight,” I say.
He turns up my face, kissing me fervently. I kiss him back. He pulls up my skirt and pushes my thong to the side, not bothering to remove it, he slides into me.
He is surprisingly strong. Or maybe I’ve made him feel like Zeus because I’m straddling him and he’s holding me up without a wall for support. I gasp as he slides in and out. I’ve noticed his hands before and there is nothing extraordinary about them but damn, the man is well endowed.
Is the hand/penis ratio a myth? Oh yes, this feels damn good! I moan and pick up the pace. A few seconds later, just as I’m really getting into it, he goes limp. There is literally nothing happening. He withdraws his limp dick as I slide back down to my feet. He looks at me with fear.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Did you just snivel? he asks.
“What?” I ask. “I don’t know, I might have….”
I shake my head in confusion, trying to reach for his penis to coax it back to attention but he shakes his head and pulls up his trousers.
Is he stressed about how this will change our working relationship? Too late, you were already inside me, bruh!
“Is this about the office?” I ask.
“No, this has nothing to do with that,” he responds.
“Great. What then?” I ask arms akimbo.
“You are sniveling all over me and you are confused about why I’m upset?”
“I don’t have the damn Rona,” I exclaim.
“That you know of…” he adds for me.
Is this guy serious? We were kissing among other things! If I have Covid-19, it’s a little late now to be fearful, he already has it, too.