period sex

sometimes you just gotta fuck a standard issue hot guy

Jun 11, 2025

He looked like flesh-and-blood cartoon Prince Charming. Looking at him made me fully understand why men lose their heads around hot blondes with green eyes and enormous breasts and tiny waists and long legs.

He was so cookie cutter hot, such an Aryan master race wet dream, that the first time I saw him, I burst out laughing. Much to his confusion.

6’2” (why did even his height have to be perfect - a couple inches too tall for comfortable making out), wavy blonde hair, soft but shaggy enough at the edges to make it obvious he cared, but not too much. True-blue eyes, perfectly straight white teeth with just a little turn in the left canine to say he came by them honestly or at least with the help of a very expensive orthodontist. Long, loose legs and my kryptonite (of course) - hands that made me think of ripping fabric.

I had it bad, but then again, so did everyone else.

And so one day, on a train trip we took as a crew across central China, I reached out to touch his shoulder from my top bunk as he was walking by.

He turned around, grabbed me by the shoulders, and we kissed.

We kissed so hard and recklessly that it felt like I was fully capable of dragging him into my bunk (unfortunately not), and it was all lips and tongues and teeth and went on for so long that the other four people in the cabin started whooping.

He swung himself into the middle bunk across from me and held my left hand in his big, warm, dry, fabric-ripping hands with the perfect fingernails (long pink bit, almost no white bit, good coverage of the finger in both length and width).

Game on.

When someone procured crates of beer, he would grab two - one for him, one for me, and press his body against mine, one hand on me at all times. Reserved for later. Men (and women) treated me differently when he was around.

When I turned corners, he’d appear from nowhere, seize me by the shoulders, the waist, the arm, and kiss me impossibly hard. Then we’d just go on with the usual chatter about import-exports or public relations.

I knew he had a girlfriend back home that I’d never meet, I knew his dad was a notorious Lothario that carefully picked out women to cherish and discard. Prince Charming Sr. divorced his mother after the birth of his firstborn son, but then re-married her again, three wives and ten years later, only to abandon her again at the hospital after the birth of his younger brother.

What a way to die.

When we went to someone’s house for dinner, I sat a careful distance away. He put his arms around my ass and dragged me onto his lap, laughing, kissing me full on the mouth, looked around as if daring anyone to say anything, and kissed me again. He was hard and felt impossibly big under me.

We spent all night drinking, kissing, groping each other, much to everyone’s mock horror. But it was only the next afternoon, after we’d been in each other’s company for a full 18 hours, after limitless nachos and bottomless margaritas, that he firmly steered me to my room.

I was so fucking horny I wasn’t thinking about the massive pile of beans and spicy meat I’d just devoured.

I just needed to fuck him.

When my underwear came off, it was pretty clear I’d started my period, possibly helped along by the sheer pressure building in my pelvis for being so horny for so long. He saw the blood on my inner thighs, shrugged and pushed me down on the bed, tore clothes off the both of us, dove between my legs, and started licking so aggressively that it hurt, but not in a bad way. Or maybe I liked it because he was so hot.

His body was smooth and velvety, but not hairless. A layer of silky, almost invisible golden down like angel kisses all over his belly, the backs of his arms, his legs, and the outsides of his butt cheeks.

I grabbed his (head) hair and told him to stop licking. I used his face, his chin, his nose until I came. He raised his eyebrows at the sheer force and speed of my orgasm, his face covered in blood, and then grinned and told me to breathe slowly and deeply as he started to fuck me.

His penis was just as perfectly proportioned as the rest of him. I came again, two-nil. I shoved him off me and sucked him off, more enthusiastically than I had ever (or will ever) have the good fortune to suck anyone’s dick again, getting high on the taste of my blood and his cum. The bed looked like a crime scene.

He made a joke about needing a monkey butler to bring us hot towels, threw open the windows. We wrapped ourselves in towels and talked and dozed and fucked until it became pitch dark.

I stood up, shaking from adrenaline, arousal, and hunger. My pelvis pounded smooth, like a pebble on the beach.

We get northern Chinese food and beer, he goes home. I rip the sheets off my bed, throw down another pile of towels, and go to sleep.

I woke up freezing, drenched in blood.

The cleanup was insane.