I put up with a colossal prick because of his prick.

My relationship with Troy was a complicated one.  He was the first person I ever really didn’t like but with whom the sex was out of this world.  How could I so actively dislike someone, yet trust him enough to do debauched, trust-based sexual acts?  We fucked Jack together, we fucked Ray, we fucked my girlfriend (the one he eventually lied to me about) both with me and with Jack, and we even met a guy in a local Hilton just so he could suck him off and I could figuratively hold his hand (though, my pussy ended up holding his cock).

In the beginning he fucked me twice a week, whether my kid was in residence or not.  My little one would pass out, we’d turn on some music, and we’d go to town.  My kid never stirred or even knew he was there.  We plotted and planned to have a man join us.  He got us a joint AFF account and he was in almost constant contact with me about men we could meet.  I thought he was dramatic and vortex-like.  My alarms were going off like crazy, but I felt helpless to resist.

And then all the attention, it petered out.  He said insulting things to me; he wrote me nasty emails and yelled at me in front of my friends; talked to me about all the money he was spending on his other dates; would inundate me with graphic details of his sexual encounters with other women; call me at all hours of the night crying about his ex; and I was eventually relegated to only Tuesday nights – occasionally – and group sex; he even once screamed at me when I accidentally knocked him in the jaw as I turned around after he’d been finger fucking me.  The guy was a goddamned cruel mess.

Yet, I let him stay in my life and he continued to lean on me for relationship advice as he stumbled from woman to woman.  If the sex hadn’t been the best of my life, I would have dumped him the night he told me he could never date me longterm because I “had a kid, smoked, and was an alcoholic.”  I countered with, “Gee, at least I’m not an asshole.”  (And naturally, I’m not an alcoholic, smoked only whenever I wanted to, and, well, I don’t think having a kid is really the worst thing to have ever happened to me.  In fact, it’s the best.)  And never mind the fact that I’d never in a goddamned million years want to date him.

Long story short, Troy was a master in bed and a colossal prick out of it.  My natural reactions to his cruel intentions and manipulations were obliterated in the face of orgasms and MMFs.  I was a slave to the intrigue and the passion.  A stupid girl, not a savvy woman.

I told him I was through with him no less than 3 times.  I never do that.  Ever.  But Troy was also the only person who treated me badly then also apologized and begged for my forgiveness and friendship back.  The combination was always too much for me to resist.  His narcissism was so like my father’s that I was playing out a wish from a dark place inside of me.

With my ex friend, let’s call her Fuckface Lina, he used her against me in the cruelest way and she played right into it. One of her parting shots to me was, “Good luck not being second best anymore.” I laughed and thought dumping her was about 6 months past due. When Troy, Lina and I had a threesome, he spent way too much time with her. His excuse later was, “Hy, you know I like strange pussy. I didn’t want her to feel left out.” It was one of my worst sexual nightmares come true: being left out.

I share all of this because despite his ill-treatment of me, his specter looms large in my sexual life. When I get fucked by a man, I often think of Troy and what he’d be doing to me instead. His skill and intuition have been, as yet, completely unmatched. He always knew when to switch a position and just how to stroke me with his 8″ cock, what words to say, how to make me cum, and his stamina was unrivaled.

I’m heartbroken over this.

I have good, decent lovers in my life (I haven’t even written about The Neighbor yet, but trust me, that kid’s got skillz); men who care about me as a human being and my psyche. And still, I think of Troy. The guy who thought I was a piece of shit, told me so, and then betrayed my trust after begging for it back.

I guess sometimes good cock trumps good sense.  Now I just need to wait for the memories to get replaced and my head to get screwed back on.

A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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8 thoughts on “I put up with a colossal prick because of his prick.
  1. Understand this. I wish the heads in our pants were completely in sync with the heads on our shoulders. At least if they’re good to you and care about you, you can train them in the sac- never too old or experienced to learn ;)

  2. I wonder if its good cock or the ego blow that looms large with you. I dated a man who killed my ego in every way possible. I thought I continued to miss him for a long time until I realized the only thing I was really longing for was a chance to even the playing field and get back what he’d taken from me.

    Of course, I’m only speculating, so grains of salt and all that. Best wishes to you!

    1. Excellent point. I’m not entirely sure. I’ll concede to a certain level of darkness inside of me that feels better with being treated badly, but not sure how I could level the playing field, as you said.

      But maybe you’re right. I only finally ended everything with him 5-6 weeks ago. It’s still fresh.

      And I’m boosted by the idea that I’m not the only one out there who’s felt this way about an asshole :) Thanks for that!

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