Friday 2nd January 2026

Dear Diary…

The date went very well. I’m actually writing this whilst drinking my cup of tea on Saturday morning, whilst it’s still fresh in my mind. I suspect a lot of these entries will be written a day or two after the fact. I’ve written a few drafts, and keep starting again. I want to tell you all about the date, the conversation, the food, a hundred little details that lead up to the sexy stuff. But then I remind myself I said this was to be my slutty diary, and besides some context, a full account of things perhaps isn’t needed?

That sounds like a good rule going forwards. In this diary at least, I’ll try and keep details, build-ups to events, and general life things to a minimum, whilst not pretending that they don’t happen, and will write about the sexy stuff a bit more fully. I’m imagining if I were reading this and it belonged to a stranger; what would I want from it?

Well… as I said, the date went well. We met in a nearby restauraunt – the joy of living here being that everything’s a 10 minute walk away. I wore a green maxi-dress with a good amount of cleavage showing, and a slit up to above my knee, which felt pretty slutty in itself for January. It certainly had the desired effect, as he couldn’t take his eyes off me from the moment I took off my coat. He was dressed smartly too, without seeming too formal.

He’s a little older, late 30s. Slightly rugged appearance, but a bit of a dad bod. Perfect combination in my mind. Just moved here, lecturing at the uni. We got on really well – spoke about his work, the local area, feminism, and politics – felt like a very good lot of conversation for a first date, not too much messing about with small talk, a real willingness to get into big topics. He was mature, considerate, respectful, and with an undercurrent of flirtation under all of it. I was probably a little more brazen, but was also seriously enjoying the good food and company.

He offered to walk me home, and I agreed. Not always going to show a guy where I live on the first date, but every vibe I’d had from him all night was good, and I was determined to fuck him by this point. Again, not something I’d always do on a first date (though recently more often than not, if I’m honest), but I genuinely really liked him and he was new to town and I wanted to be his first here – that felt important for some reason.

We’d touched already by the time we were back at mine – a brush of a hand against my arm when he helped me on with my coat, things like that. It felt pretty electric to me, and I’m pretty sure to him too. He may have been a gent all night, but that didn’t stop plenty of checking out my neckline – as he should! I don’t think he was surprised to be, slightly breathlessly, asked if he’d like to come in. Of course he would.

We were on each other pretty much the second the door closed, making out against the wall of the hallway, his hands on my back, on my arse as I hungrily purred and leaned into him. We moved toward the sofa, and I was straddling his lap as we kept making out, him reaching for my breasts, and pretty soon I was wriggling out of my dress in order for him to suck on them as I sat on his lap. Tongue circling my nipples, suckling gently, but never without a huge amount of passion.

I think, looking back, the thing that made this whole encounter stand out for me was actually his self-control. He didn’t rush anything. In writing it, I’m probably making it sound fast and feral, but really he took his time at every stage, whilst still showing all the passion and intensity and desire you could imagine. He was gentle, but firm, and absolutely knew what he was doing throughout.

I slipped off him and dropped to my knees, eager to please this courteous gentleman the way only a total slut like me would, and helped him to pull off his trousers. The cock that sprang out at me was gorgeous – I’d estimate 7 inches, and a comfortable girth. I eagerly leant forwards and kissed the tip, circling his head with my tongue, tasting the tiny bead of pre-cum that was already there before wrapping my lips around him and swallowing him whole.

He moaned in pleasure as I bobbed up and down on him, getting nice and sloppy (I’ve always felt, the sloppier the better when it comes to a blowjob). I looked up at him as I bottomed out, my tongue against his balls, and he smiled at me so sweetly – not what I was expecting in that moment, but he kinda melted me a little.

After that, it wasn’t long before I was having my knickers pulled off me, spreading my legs for him, and gasping in pleasure as I felt his big cock-head at my entrance. I was so horny by this point I begged him to push it in, looking up at him, biting my lip, and then wrapping my legs around him and pulling him into me as he began, my hips thrusting up towards his every thrust. It felt SO GOOD, and he was such a nice size inside me. He kept up a good pace too – had some nice stamina on him, and had me moaning his name as I felt an orgasm building.

He came first – tensing up, holding himself deep inside me (he’d checked I was on birth control first – again, what a gent), and I felt his cock pulse powerfully in me as he emptied his balls into my thirsty, quivering pussy. I love the feeling of a man cumming in me so much, and this was just enough to tip me over the edge myself, into a small orgasm of my own. I felt myself go through the familiar cycle – my whole body tensing, then releasing in a shaky, breathless mess as it floods me.

It was at this point that things became surprising. At this point I’d expect an awkward cuddle before the guy puts his clothes on and tries to find a reason to leave as soon as possible without sounding like an arsehole. It’s fine, doesn’t bother me, as I’ve got what I wanted too. But did my gentleman of the moment follow the pattern? Not in the slightest.

When both our orgasms had subsided, he slowly slid himself out of me, knelt down, and dived face first into my freshly-fucked snatch. His tongue was on my sensitive little clit, then exploring between my folds, before I could even process what was happening. I moaned in pleasure as I felt him poke his tongue inside me, and in frustration when he pulled away again.

My frustration wasn’t to last long though. He leaned in and kissed me on the lips, a his hands the side of my head as he made out with me, and I tasted the heady cocktail of my own juices and his cum on his tongue, and eagerly licked and sucked at it, hungry for the mess that we’d made. He’d scooped as much of his load as he could out of my pussy with his tongue, and was now feeding it to me – I could fall in love with this man! I’ve always thought the one downside of a creampie is my not getting to taste it, but this man was making sure I did. I could feel myself getting wetter again.

He broke our kiss and half growled in my ear “Bend over Deb, I need to devour this pretty little pussy of yours.”

Without thinking, I answered him “Yes Sir,” before blushing scarlet, remembering this was a stranger and that was an honorific I would usually not dream of using without prior discussion. As I moved off the sofa and repositioned myself bent over the arm of the chair, arse up, legs apart, and face in the cushion, I saw him look surprised, and pleased too. The thing is, it had come out totally naturally. Usually guys wanting to be called Master or Sir or similar feel almost cheesy at first, like they’re trying to act a part, and aren’t that sure of the role. This man just exuded that energy naturally – it would be the easiest thing in the world to submit to him.

He knelt down behind me, taking my ample hips in his hands as he began to lap at my hot cunt, his face buried in me. His tongue was skilled, and I could barely stop moaning in delight as he licked and lapped at me, all the while holding me tight in place. I felt very small – in a cuddled, wrapped up, protected kind of a way. I’ve felt this before, and associate it with the very best Dominants. I was becoming increasingly sure that he was more used to encounters with a specific dynamic – perhaps having only just moved here, he hadn’t yet found his way onto the local “scene”? Whatever the case, I became determined to be his, to please him as his good little slut, as he continued tongue-fucking my pussy from behind, getting me hotter, and hotter once more.

I was getting pretty close when the next surprise came. He moved, and I shivered in surprise and excitement as I felt his tongue flick across my tightest hole. I gasped, utterly shocked and immediately even wetter, if that were possible, as his tongue licked all around my arse, before poking at my puckered entrance. It felt so sensitive, so delicate, and set my body on fire with need.

Now, I’m no stranger to anal sex. In fact, I absolutely love it when done with the right person who knows what they’re doing, after lots of discussion, and probably with a lot of warmup and stretching myself first. It’s definitely not something I jump straight into with just anyone, and double-definitely not something I do on a first date. So you can imagine my brain’s surprise to hear my mouth suddenly pant out the words, “Please Sir, fuck my arse.”

He pulled his tongue away, let go my hips, and moved back. I was worried I’d said something wrong. Had I misjudged him? Was calling him “Sir” that second time a mistake? But no… he slowly stood, moved to behind me, resting his rock-hard cock on my sizable booty, and taking hold of my curves once more. He leaned down, head close to my ear, and all but whispered to me, “are you ready to be an anal slut for me, Deb?”

“Oh god yes” I gasped, feeling his cock at my pussy entrance again. “Please, make me your anal slut!”

He plunged his cock back into my pussy, just once, confusing me whilst sending a fresh jolt of lust through every sensitive nerve ending, then rubbed the head of his cock up and down my slit, before lining himself up with my arsehole. Slick with my juices, he pushed inside me easily. Slowly, very slowly, to give me a chance to adjust to his invasion, but steadily, he pushed inch after inch of himself into my nastiest hole, bottomed out, and stayed still, waiting for me.

It hurt, of course. I wasn’t remotely ready for anal. But his gentleness and patience allowed that initial burn to quickly fade to a low background thrum as the pleasurable, intense feeling of being so full took its place. I moaned in need, pushing back on him a bit, and he correctly took that as his signal to begin. Slowly at first, pulling out, pushing back, all seven inches of his cock slowly exiting then re-violating my arse, splitting me in two.

“Please!” I panted again.

He sped up. Still going a little cautiously, being sure not to hurt me, but holding my hips firmly in place as he began to pound me like the slut I am. I had one arm out in front of me, clawing at the sofa cushions in pleasure, and the other now underneath me on my dripping pussy, fingering myself as he fucked my arse raw. He felt huge. Both his cock in my arse, but also him, towering over me, holding me in place like a toy as he thrust so deep into me again and again and again. My boobs at this point were smushed under me against the sofa, but each thrust from him moved me a little, my sensitive nipples dragging over a seem in the cushion just adding to the overwhelming sensations rocking through me as he used me as his anal slut.

My orgasm, when it came, was powerful. I didn’t hold back, but gave a full-on feral scream of joy as it hit me, making my pussy spasm and gush, and making my arse squeeze down on his cock with all its strength. He didn’t let up for a moment, instead bending down over me again to growl in my ear. No words, just a guttural, primal roar of lust and need and power as he sped up to pound me as hard, as fast as he could, before finishing suddenly with a series of slower but intense thrusts as his cock pulsed hard and exploded in my bowel, flooding my arse with rope after rope of his seed.

That kind of finished us both off for the night. We actually had a little cuddle together on the sofa after, him asking if I was alright, checking I was happy, and me apologising for calling him Sir like that out of nowhere. He chuckled and admitted he was very much a dominant, and hearing me say it had prompted him to a go a little further with me, which I was more than thankful for. We agreed to text the next day, and see each other again soon. I made it very clear how much I wanted to see more of him, and I’m certain the feeling was reciprocated!

He let himself out, and I was left lying there, still naked, his cum still in my arse, and just basking in the afterglow of it all like the cat that’s got the cream. It was such a perfect night, and perfect first fuck of the year for this slut! I couldn’t wait for more.