F*cking With AJ Sloan: Getting That Dick After a Decade In Waiting

January 12, 2024
AJ SLOAN

I am back home in Cleveland sooner than I had anticipated and not for the warmest of reasons, but even in some of the bleakest times glimmers some gaiety. Of course, like every ‘mo visiting their hometown, I opened up the apps while at the local Planet Fitness and let the chimes wash over me with welcome familiarity. How nice it is to be a stranger in the city that raised you.

One profile quickly rose above the others. His profile had a picture showcasing his handsome face and 1,000-watt smile, he practiced proper grammar with the use of full sentences, and did not waste my time with any interrogation or irrelevant small-talk. Oh, and the dick pic was on point. Am I… in love? Only time will tell, but in the meantime why not take the car for a test drive?

When I got to his lakefront apartment (for those of you who are not familiar with the Greater Cleveland area, this is indeed a sign of Midwestern luxury), my beau-of-the-hour casually informed me that we had met ages ago at some party back in the day. After giving him the dismissive “uh-huh, sure” and misgendering his canine, I lead him by the crotch of his long johns to his bedroom for some highly anticipated sex. I needed some sex. Judge me, please, it only makes my dick throb that much harder.

My dude fucked me properly, some nice, full-on in-out-in-outs. We’re talking from balls to tip and back again with every stroke. He had me making noises that would have surely permeated my cheap Brooklyn walls for every last neighbor to hear (f!ck you, gentrification). As he pumped me, I smacked my rock-hard cock up against his thigh from between my legs. I almost came at least a dozen times but held out. Why rush when you’re enjoying the ride?

He flipped me on my side (one of my top three favorite positions regardless of whether I’m giving or receiving) and continued to skewer me, wide open at this point for the railing. Like a goddam gentleman, he asked if he could blow his load up in me, to which I said, "It would be an honor!” No, I’m just joking, but can you imagine? I might use that line next time, doe eyes and all.

Where was I? Oh, yeah. My Grindr guy glazes my guts with his load, my favorite brand of lube. As he’s still rock-f*cking-hard, I turn him onto his back and ride his cummy cock for mere seconds before I shoot my pent-up five-day load all over him, from his belly button to his beard and beyond. End scene.

I collapse next to him like that sin-soaked rag doll that I am, and we get to chatting while basking together in the warmth of the afterglow. He again reminds me that we had met at a party ages ago, only this time I allow him to provide more detail as I have already gotten what I came for. Turns out, he is friends with my best friend's older brother, the same best friend who picked me up from the airport this very trip. He at some point worked with her, and coincidentally my first ever job was with his friend/her older brother. He tells me that we met at a party back when I was in HS and he had wanted me that night.

To make my panties even more wet, my future husband tells me that he has been a fan of F*cking with AJ Sloan and of, well, AJ Sloan in general, for months (people actually read this trash? Cool). He’s also a politician, so if I play my blackmail right I may one day be the first first lady with a dick (publically known at least). Wish me luck!

I am genuinely happy that I get to tell you this story. Even in these not-so-great times, there is still some goodness to be found, and those moments are truly pryceless. And if you allow yourself to stay open to the world around you, or at least open up your Grindr, you may be surprised at what you find. That seems like a shamelessly corny place to end this one.