Another Ex: The Buxon Irish Slut
Irish Girls Just Want to Get Fucked All Night Long
Is there a general truth in that? I don’t know. I was just thinking of a chapter title, and the Stones’ Some Girls album, and the title tune jumped into my head. But as you will read, it does apply to this one Irish woman, and to a series of really bad choices I made.
My first marriage was going south. I liked to drink, but she liked to drink even more, and heavily, and really cheap vodka at that. And she smoked so much ashtrays were an ungodly sight and the stench of cheap cigarettes really made the apartment rank. I lost interest in sex for a while. Wife no. 1 was usually trashed, and doing god knows what after hours. One time I came home after playing pool with the boys, an every Friday night ritual in Chelsea that would go one for years, when I found Wife no. 1 passed out on the computer, an empty bottle of cheap vodka nearby and that she was in a middle of an email to some co-worker whom she had a tryst with. Nice. Shuffle her off to bed, shut down the computer.
There was a secretary at my job at the library, not directly in my office, but working on my floor. She was Irish, short at 4’11, and had a pronounced bust, which was a plus. I’ll call her Colleen. The minus was that she was one of those lantern-jawed Irish girls with a big mouth and an irritating voice. Also, she was a know-it-all (or claimed she did). She claimed to have auditioned for The Rockettes, and a variety of ballet companies, but in reality she was too short, too stout, and well…
Her mother however, did own and manage a ballet school for k**s on Long Island, and Colleen helped out there. So, it may have been a case of envy on her part. She had a slightly taller attractive sister who was a dancer, and also a teacher, with a husband who seemed to me to be closeted gay. Not that I cared mind you, but Colleen was always talking about how great he was as a dancer and teacher, and all I could imagine was this guy running around behind his wife’s back sucking cock.
Anyway, you ever notice how life works in strange ways? How someone you are just not attracted to becomes the demon that ensnares you, pulls you in. Sex is a very dangerous d**g sometimes.
I would find Colleen starting to look at me in strange ways, that sort of hungry look crazy women give guys. I thought it was nuts at first. My friends at work noticed it, and k**ded me. Shit was started to be said behind my back, but at this time nothing was going on at all.
Then, one day, there was this exhibit on the second floor of the library with lots of black hanging curtains, and hideaway spots. We were the only ones looking at this exhibit at this time of the day and we just kissed. It turned into a crazed hungry kiss, and I realized there and then that this woman must be a firebrand in bed.
We cooled it after that and kept a respectful distance between us until one day. There was a party she was throwing at her apartment in Queens, NY. A few co-workers were invited, but only one good friend was going, and then he decided not to. So there was myself, one other male acquaintance (a chubby nerdy jerk who eventually won a Grammy award but fuck him), two other girls and Colleen.
While Wife no. 1 was no doubt at home in an alcoholic haze, I was playing dull board games and the like with these people. Then I caught Colleen playing footsie with me. I hoped no one else noticed, but I certainly did. The two ladies left, and then the nerd guy wanted to stay and play more board games. While helping Colleen to wash dishes in her kitchen, she told me to get rid of the guy and stay. So I did, in as nice a way as possible. I told this guy I would probably stay a while. Then he said, “I’ll stay too”. Finally, I think I said something to him to get the hint. I think he was pissed because he liked this girl, but how was I to know.
I finished helping with the dishes. Had a glass of wine, and got ensnared in wet Irish pussy. This girl was so wet it was crazy. The blowjob was fine, but damn, and then I plunged into that shit for hours. When I finally got home… vodka bottles and full ashtrays all around. Yup, some things never change.
The dynamic between me and Colleen sure did. She wanted clandestine meetings in empty offices for kisses, but I wouldn’t do anything else there. I wasn’t sure why I did it, but then maybe because the sex was good, she had great big boobs, and could stay wet for a long time. Yeah, that’s probably why? But when she started to talk with that high-pitched irritating whine of a voice it all brought me down to earth very quick and very hard.
Anyway, wife no. 1 found out about this thing. Seems the nerd guy got my number because he was pissed he didn’t get Colleen first and called her up. She surprised me with a drunken ramble about cooking me steak with arsenic, and then passed out. I took some things, and stayed with a friend for a while. Then, when I realized I couldn’t really be doing that for too long… I stayed with Colleen.
Crazy-ass sex followed, and the first time I ever made someone squirt. Damn, this was some intensely fucked-up fuck session stuff. But my good friends thought I was crazy, and all of them hated Colleen. They tried to talk sense into me, and I finally got my own cheap apartment, and divorce. I lived in Astoria aka Long Island City, and it was a quick commute to work.
Colleen would come over often, or I would go there but things started to get strained. After all the sex, during the quiet moments…when you realize you have little in common then the only person you want to hang with is yourself. Her mom was a real harridan and her dad was an aerospace engineer and both republicans. Still, they seemed to tolerate me the few times I met them.
I tried to break it off with Colleen. During one chilly, rainy, windswept night she rang my doorbell and stood standing in the pouring rain. She would not say much, and I got her a towel because she was drenched. I made her take a shower before going home…but yeah, she spent the night. See how weak I was?
But things were strained between us for sure. I did not go out to her place, or see her for sex for a while, which was difficult in one sense as we still worked in the same building, and on the same floor.
One day I entered the building cafeteria. A tiny small room where a guy or gal would make sandwiches cheap, but little beyond that. It didn’t last too long before the cafeteria room became a break room, then ended up being used for something else. On this day, the building lothario, a Latin guy named Gabe was talking to a group of guys I knew, then everybody got quiet when I walked in. I asked what the hell is going on, and one of the guys I knew told me that this guy had banged Colleen! Well, I said I didn’t believe that, but sure enough Mr. G took out a pen and on a napkin drew out her apartment. Yup, he’s been there. I was pissed. Good timing too. I began to wonder how many more of the guys in my building had fucked this chick. Of course, she denied it…but I knew better. Colleen tried quite a few times to try to entice me with sex, and for the most part, I tried to stay away.
Even when I began to see someone else, and made sure she knew about it, she would whisper something like “meet me after hours in the so and so room, or in the library stacks, far in the back”. There, she would give me the kind of amazing blowjobs, where she swallowed all. I was a sucker for an amazing BJ. Sometimes, I would get so worked up I would just pull her dress up, her panties down and just fuck her there and then.
This stop/start thing went on for years, and then one day she got another job.
We would still meet occasionally, on Northern Boulevard in Queens, to chat. Not too often, every couple of weeks. But she was insane and I had no idea how she was with other guys but she would just drive (we always met in her car) to a dark, isolated spot and blow me while I fingered her (not always an easy thing because she was a short woman with big tits). Sometimes I would lose my mind again and she would just hope right on top of me and fuck me till’ I came.
Eventually, we stopped seeing each other totally. It took a while but I finally got her out of my system. Years later, I found out one of my best friends also fucked her and was bragging about it. I stopped talking to this guy for years. Not because he did it, but because he didn’t tell me and bragged about it to all the mutual buddies. To this day, I think out of shame, he avoids me.
I don’t have the space to detail every sordid love affair or girlfriend I’ve had in my life, just the significant and fun ones…or the biggest mistakes.
Is there a general truth in that? I don’t know. I was just thinking of a chapter title, and the Stones’ Some Girls album, and the title tune jumped into my head. But as you will read, it does apply to this one Irish woman, and to a series of really bad choices I made.
My first marriage was going south. I liked to drink, but she liked to drink even more, and heavily, and really cheap vodka at that. And she smoked so much ashtrays were an ungodly sight and the stench of cheap cigarettes really made the apartment rank. I lost interest in sex for a while. Wife no. 1 was usually trashed, and doing god knows what after hours. One time I came home after playing pool with the boys, an every Friday night ritual in Chelsea that would go one for years, when I found Wife no. 1 passed out on the computer, an empty bottle of cheap vodka nearby and that she was in a middle of an email to some co-worker whom she had a tryst with. Nice. Shuffle her off to bed, shut down the computer.
There was a secretary at my job at the library, not directly in my office, but working on my floor. She was Irish, short at 4’11, and had a pronounced bust, which was a plus. I’ll call her Colleen. The minus was that she was one of those lantern-jawed Irish girls with a big mouth and an irritating voice. Also, she was a know-it-all (or claimed she did). She claimed to have auditioned for The Rockettes, and a variety of ballet companies, but in reality she was too short, too stout, and well…
Her mother however, did own and manage a ballet school for k**s on Long Island, and Colleen helped out there. So, it may have been a case of envy on her part. She had a slightly taller attractive sister who was a dancer, and also a teacher, with a husband who seemed to me to be closeted gay. Not that I cared mind you, but Colleen was always talking about how great he was as a dancer and teacher, and all I could imagine was this guy running around behind his wife’s back sucking cock.
Anyway, you ever notice how life works in strange ways? How someone you are just not attracted to becomes the demon that ensnares you, pulls you in. Sex is a very dangerous d**g sometimes.
I would find Colleen starting to look at me in strange ways, that sort of hungry look crazy women give guys. I thought it was nuts at first. My friends at work noticed it, and k**ded me. Shit was started to be said behind my back, but at this time nothing was going on at all.
Then, one day, there was this exhibit on the second floor of the library with lots of black hanging curtains, and hideaway spots. We were the only ones looking at this exhibit at this time of the day and we just kissed. It turned into a crazed hungry kiss, and I realized there and then that this woman must be a firebrand in bed.
We cooled it after that and kept a respectful distance between us until one day. There was a party she was throwing at her apartment in Queens, NY. A few co-workers were invited, but only one good friend was going, and then he decided not to. So there was myself, one other male acquaintance (a chubby nerdy jerk who eventually won a Grammy award but fuck him), two other girls and Colleen.
While Wife no. 1 was no doubt at home in an alcoholic haze, I was playing dull board games and the like with these people. Then I caught Colleen playing footsie with me. I hoped no one else noticed, but I certainly did. The two ladies left, and then the nerd guy wanted to stay and play more board games. While helping Colleen to wash dishes in her kitchen, she told me to get rid of the guy and stay. So I did, in as nice a way as possible. I told this guy I would probably stay a while. Then he said, “I’ll stay too”. Finally, I think I said something to him to get the hint. I think he was pissed because he liked this girl, but how was I to know.
I finished helping with the dishes. Had a glass of wine, and got ensnared in wet Irish pussy. This girl was so wet it was crazy. The blowjob was fine, but damn, and then I plunged into that shit for hours. When I finally got home… vodka bottles and full ashtrays all around. Yup, some things never change.
The dynamic between me and Colleen sure did. She wanted clandestine meetings in empty offices for kisses, but I wouldn’t do anything else there. I wasn’t sure why I did it, but then maybe because the sex was good, she had great big boobs, and could stay wet for a long time. Yeah, that’s probably why? But when she started to talk with that high-pitched irritating whine of a voice it all brought me down to earth very quick and very hard.
Anyway, wife no. 1 found out about this thing. Seems the nerd guy got my number because he was pissed he didn’t get Colleen first and called her up. She surprised me with a drunken ramble about cooking me steak with arsenic, and then passed out. I took some things, and stayed with a friend for a while. Then, when I realized I couldn’t really be doing that for too long… I stayed with Colleen.
Crazy-ass sex followed, and the first time I ever made someone squirt. Damn, this was some intensely fucked-up fuck session stuff. But my good friends thought I was crazy, and all of them hated Colleen. They tried to talk sense into me, and I finally got my own cheap apartment, and divorce. I lived in Astoria aka Long Island City, and it was a quick commute to work.
Colleen would come over often, or I would go there but things started to get strained. After all the sex, during the quiet moments…when you realize you have little in common then the only person you want to hang with is yourself. Her mom was a real harridan and her dad was an aerospace engineer and both republicans. Still, they seemed to tolerate me the few times I met them.
I tried to break it off with Colleen. During one chilly, rainy, windswept night she rang my doorbell and stood standing in the pouring rain. She would not say much, and I got her a towel because she was drenched. I made her take a shower before going home…but yeah, she spent the night. See how weak I was?
But things were strained between us for sure. I did not go out to her place, or see her for sex for a while, which was difficult in one sense as we still worked in the same building, and on the same floor.
One day I entered the building cafeteria. A tiny small room where a guy or gal would make sandwiches cheap, but little beyond that. It didn’t last too long before the cafeteria room became a break room, then ended up being used for something else. On this day, the building lothario, a Latin guy named Gabe was talking to a group of guys I knew, then everybody got quiet when I walked in. I asked what the hell is going on, and one of the guys I knew told me that this guy had banged Colleen! Well, I said I didn’t believe that, but sure enough Mr. G took out a pen and on a napkin drew out her apartment. Yup, he’s been there. I was pissed. Good timing too. I began to wonder how many more of the guys in my building had fucked this chick. Of course, she denied it…but I knew better. Colleen tried quite a few times to try to entice me with sex, and for the most part, I tried to stay away.
Even when I began to see someone else, and made sure she knew about it, she would whisper something like “meet me after hours in the so and so room, or in the library stacks, far in the back”. There, she would give me the kind of amazing blowjobs, where she swallowed all. I was a sucker for an amazing BJ. Sometimes, I would get so worked up I would just pull her dress up, her panties down and just fuck her there and then.
This stop/start thing went on for years, and then one day she got another job.
We would still meet occasionally, on Northern Boulevard in Queens, to chat. Not too often, every couple of weeks. But she was insane and I had no idea how she was with other guys but she would just drive (we always met in her car) to a dark, isolated spot and blow me while I fingered her (not always an easy thing because she was a short woman with big tits). Sometimes I would lose my mind again and she would just hope right on top of me and fuck me till’ I came.
Eventually, we stopped seeing each other totally. It took a while but I finally got her out of my system. Years later, I found out one of my best friends also fucked her and was bragging about it. I stopped talking to this guy for years. Not because he did it, but because he didn’t tell me and bragged about it to all the mutual buddies. To this day, I think out of shame, he avoids me.
I don’t have the space to detail every sordid love affair or girlfriend I’ve had in my life, just the significant and fun ones…or the biggest mistakes.
5 years ago