Tara Sivec - Passion and Ponies

I make a mental note to shave my balls as soon as fucking possible before I start moving inside of her again. I’m guessing if Ava does make good on her threat, balls would go down a lot easier if they weren’t covered in pubes.

Ava’s hands clutch onto my hair and she starts mumbling nonsense, telling me to move faster and harder as I bite and suck on the skin of her neck.

“Yeah, you like that? You like it when Big Papa gives you his hot and juicy wiener?” I pant, my hips hammering against her.

Her fists yank on my hair, pulling my head away from her neck so hard that I see stars.

“Ow! What the fuck?” I complain as she gives me a dirty look.

“You cannot say shit like that when we’re fucking. You just can’t,” she warns me, letting out a low groan when I shift my hips and grind my pubic bone against her clit.

“What’s wrong with a little dirty talk? I thought you’d like it.”

Ava moves against me, matching me thrust for thrust and now it’s my turn to groan.

“I like dirty talk. I LOVE dirty talk. What you’re doing is not dirty talk. It’s ‘weird as fuck’ talk. Repeat after me: I love fucking you, your pussy is so tight,” Ava demands.

Well, damn, that was hot. I kind of wish I had a vagina right now.

Slowing down my movements, I start rolling my hips against her and do as she says.

“I love fucking you, your pussy is so tight,” I tell her in a soft, low voice.

She moans her approval, so I continue.

“Your pussy is so tight, like trying to get a new My Little Pony out of the packaging. Like those fucking tight twisty ties-”

“Oh, my God, no! JESUS CHRIST” she interrupts.

I move my hand from her ass and slide it in between us, my thumb finding her clit and rubbing slow circles around it.

“Oh, God, oh, my God,” she pants. “Okay, try this one: Your pussy is so wet and feels so good wrapped around my cock.”

I hold myself inside of her and start moving my thumb faster against her clit.

“Your pussy is so wet and feels so good wrapped around my cock…like fucking a glass of warm water.”

Ava grabs onto my ear lobe and yanks it as hard as she can, pulling my face towards her. “Stop fucking adlibbing!”

I pull out of her and then slam back inside, my thumb still working her over while she gasps and jerks her hips against me.

“I want to come inside you and then I want to fuck that tight little ass of yours,” Ava mutters.

Pausing my hip thrusts, I stare at her in shock until she opens her eyes.

“When I told you I bought a butt plug, I didn’t really think you’d take that to mean I wanted you to fuck me in the ass. Honestly, I don’t even know how that works,” I admit.

She rolls her eyes, moving her hands to my hips and forcing me to start pounding into her again.

“Hello? I’m giving you dirty talk suggestions. You’re supposed to say that to me,” she complains.

Once again, I completely stop moving.

“Wait, you want me to come inside you AND fuck your ass? You didn’t talk to me for a week when I just put the tip in. I’m so confused right now,” I tell her with a shake of my head.

“You know what? How about we just don’t talk. At all. Just keep doing what you’re doing with your thumb because I’m about two seconds away from coming,” she moans.

Alrighty, that I can do.

Getting back to business, I keep my mouth shut and continue pounding into Ava, moving my thumb over her in tiny circles. Within seconds, she’s screaming my name and I quickly follow right behind her. Who knew having sex in a bar bathroom could be so hot?

After we catch our breath, I pull out of her and dispose of the condom. Ava straightens her clothes and runs a hand through her long hair before we unlock the stall door and make our way back out to the bar.

“So, does this mean we can renegotiate the whole anal thing? Because I’ve been studying up with porn and I think I know what I did wrong last time,” I tell her as we get to our seats.

“Shut up, Tyler,” Ava replies.

My balls are still intact and we managed to spend a few hours together without killing one another.

I’d say this is progress.

- Ava -

“Jesus Christ, these women are insipid fools who should just wear signs on their foreheads that say ‘I’m a whore’,” I mutter to myself.

Yes, I’m talking out loud to myself while watching The Bachelor. I can’t help it. Even though these bitches make me want to throw myself off of a bridge, I continue to watch it. Ever since Aunt Jenny spruced up my blog, I’ve started writing little commentaries while I watch the show and I’ve noticed they get a ton of hits. Sure, I’m not talking about fashion on my fashion blog right now, but I’ll do anything just to get people to click on the site.

Pulling up the app on my phone for my blog, I type up a quick post about tonight’s show, letting everyone place bets on how long it will take for the first woman to start crying. The winner will get an open-knit eternity scarf from Urban Outfitters. One of the perks of having a fashion blog that’s growing in popularity – designers will send me samples to try as long as I blog about them.

Social media is a crazy, awesome thing. The more I started posting on my blog, the more people started sharing my posts on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. Pretty soon, companies got word of what I was doing and started contacting me about sending out some free stuff. Who was I to turn down free shit, especially clothes, purses and jewelry?

“Um, Ava? Could you come here for a minute?” Tyler shouts from down the hall.

Tyler has been crashing on Charlotte and Gavin’s couch for the last couple of nights. After the night in the bar, I should be mad at him, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything other than just a tiny bit happy. I knew he was lying when he said he hadn’t followed me there. Charlotte told me that she let Tyler know I was going to a bar and most likely going to pick up some random dude to wash all of my sorrows away. Even though I don’t do relationships, it was kind of nice to have him get a little jealous and come after me. I’ve never had a guy give a rat’s ass about anything I do, mostly because the feeling is mutual. No guy has ever sparked my interest for longer than one night. Now that we’re both living under the same roof, I’m sure whatever misguided feelings I have for him will be punched right in the face very quickly. There’s no way we’ll make it more than a week without killing each other.

“Ava? Are you out there?” Tyler yells again.

Case in point. I’m really fucking busy right now and he probably just wants sex.

“The Bachelor is on, can’t it wait an hour?” I shout back.

Just then, one of the women on the show starts sobbing because she only got five minutes of alone time with that jackass they’re fighting over like rabid women at a Hermes Birkin bag sample sale and now she’s certain he’ll never love her.

“Oh, my God, YOU JUST MET HIM!” I scream at the television.

I check my watch and realize that we have our first crier at exactly twelve minutes and seventeen seconds. Scrolling through the comments on my blog, I see that I have a winner who guessed twelve minutes correctly. Looks like she’s getting a lovely scarf to commemorate the downfall of smart, independent women everywhere.

“Seriously, Ava, this can’t wait!” I hear Tyler yell again.

With a roll of my eyes, I pause the DVR and toss my phone onto the couch cushions before getting up and heading down the hall.

Tyler meets me right outside the bathroom door with a towel wrapped around his hips while he chews on his bottom lip nervously.

It takes me a minute to compose myself when I see little droplets of water sliding down his chest. Thoughts of every single cheesy romance novel I’ve ever read float through my mind as I stand here like an idiot with my mouth open and stare at him, trying not to say things like “rock hard abs,” “delicious six-pack” and anything with the words “manly” and “bulge”.

Thank God Charlotte and Gavin went out for the evening. Now that I’ve fallen off the No Sex With Tyler Wagon, I plan on shifting that baby into high gear and riding him into the sunset.

“So, I need to show you something, but you have to promise not to laugh,” Tyler says, pulling me out of my daze.

Before I can confirm or deny said promise of laughter, he yanks the towel away from his hips and drops it to the floor by his feet.

I didn’t think it was possible for my mouth to open any wider than it already was. I’ve seen Tyler’s penis before; I’ve had Tyler’s penis in my mouth. While it’s a pretty amazing sight to behold, for once that’s not what has me in such a state of shock.

“Do you have a Band-Aid on your balls?” I ask incredulously as I tilt my head to the side to get a better look.

He’s grabbed onto his penis at this point and pulled it up flush with his stomach so I can see what’s going on. Sure enough, the area between his balls and his shaft is covered with a pink, My Little Pony Band-Aid.

“Yep, that’s a Band-Aid. I sort of had an accident with the hair clippers I found under the sink in Gavin’s bathroom,” he admits, craning his neck to stare down at his own junk.

“You used Gavin’s hair clippers to trim your ball hair? Are you insane?” I question, kneeling down to get a better look.

I should be walking away and not entertaining his odd behavior but really, how often do you get to see a dude with a Band-Aid on his balls?