In Da Club
Isn’t music amazing? One song can transport you back through the years, to a time and place, as if it were just yesterday. I make this point because a couple of days ago a song came on the radio whilst I was at work, and it instantly transported my mind back to a time when I was having probably the best sex of my life. If not the best, then definitely top 3. Ayo Technology by 50 cent featuring Justin Timberlake is such a sexy song and triggered a powerful musical memory for me. It’s the kind of song that, when it comes on in a club, you just have to find yourself a dance partner to grind up against, like you are having sex on the dancefloor. Whilst I was on holiday in Jamaica, a good few years ago now, I walked into a club and saw an absolutely gorgeous guy. He was tall, dark and handsome with an array of tasteful tattoos. Also, he was one of the best dancers I had ever seen. He was dancing with a girl, but we soon caught each other’s eye. When she went to the bathroom I approached him, and for the rest of the evening he was my dirty dancing partner.
We talked a little, but mainly communicated with our bodies. We basically had clothed sex on the dancefloor. From the club, we ended up in his pick-up truck. He was driving whilst I was giving him a blowjob, and eventually he could take it no more, pulling over before we crashed! When we got back to his place he put Ayo Technology on repeat and led me to his bedroom. I’m not sure if the song gave him magic sexual powers, but we went on to have the most mind-blowing sex. He kissed me, stripped me, threw me down on the bed. He pulled me to the edge and went down on me like I’d only ever dreamt of. After I came, he really went to work on me! He fucked the same way he danced, moving his hips slow and sensually. Then, out of nowhere, he would hit it hard and fast and oh so deep. I didn’t know what to expect from one moment to the next and my body delighted in that. We kissed and fucked for the rest of the night, with 50 cent in the background. (his music…he wasn’t really in the background, that would be creepy)
The Hips Do Lie
By morning, my hair was the only part of me that didn’t ache. It had been the most amazing night. I was flying home later that day but we vowed to keep in touch. Over the course of the next year we enjoyed regular Skype sex sessions and sent dirty messages via messenger. We got on really well outside of our obvious sexual connection too; lots of laughs and deep conversations. After making many promises to come and visit me, he was finally flying to the UK and I was so excited! I went to the pharmacy and bought a bumper pack of 36 condoms, in anticipation of all the great sex that was to come. What a disappointment. Our sexy reunion night was a huge let-down. The sex was average at best, vanilla and even a little awkward. His gyrating hips seemed like a figment of my imagination. All of the slow, sensual, hard and deep had been replaced with the fumbling, grumbling, selfish and shallow. It was like he was a different man. I hadn’t imagined all that great holiday sex, surely?
Don’t Call Me Shirley Valentine
Thankfully, I wasn’t the only person he’d come to the UK to see. So after four days and three nights of bad sex (six sessions in total and it got no better) I told him I had a work emergency come up, so maybe he should be on his travels earlier than planned. He seemed rather surprised and maybe a little insulted that I was calling an early end to our time together. Especially as we had both been building up to this meeting for the last year or so. But I honestly could take no more. The amazing chemistry we had shared that magical night in Kingston was nowhere to be found and I’m not just talking about the bedroom. The banter we had shared on messenger had disappeared too and we were straining for conversation now that we were face-to-face. Even if he hadn’t noticed the awkwardness and the bad sex, I certainly had and was running for the hills! As he left my place he said he’d come round again to see me the night before he flew home, but I was unfortunately ‘busy’. For a briefest of moments, I considered seeing him that one last time and playing Ayo Technology whilst we did it. Maybe he would transform back into the lover of my dreams? But, having had enough disappointment for one week, I settled for assuming the song had magical powers. After all, I would always have Kingston.
My Musical Memory
So nowadays, whenever I hear that song my musical memory transports me back to his room, back into his muscular arms, being sexed to within an inch of my life, and I smile to myself. By the time the next song comes on I’m back in the present. We are still in touch from time to time, with a birthday or Christmas message, but that’s all. Maybe one day I will go and visit him to see if the song can work it’s magic again. Then again, probably not.
Read about sex dolls and Sex Doll Brothels in Gia Joy’s article.