Your Gorgeous Polish Girlfriend does not feel like having sex tonight

It’s easy to mistake ‘attractive’ for ‘available’. But just because we’re with someone who drives us crazy – accidentally or not – doesn’t always mean they want to give us what they’ve got.

Imagine you’ve been going out with Polish-born model Iga Wyrwal for a few months. (If you’re into women, that shouldn’t be too hard.) Now imagine that you’ve both been busy the last few nights – you with boring but necessary end-of-year work functions, and her with a final university assignment for the year, which she finished yesterday. So you’re both done for the year.

Here she comes now. Just look at her. It’s so on. You’ve got it all planned out in your mind: you’ll drive her back to her place, cook her a meal to remember, and then get into bed and take her a few places she’s (hopefully) never been before.

But reality starts to get in the way of your fantasy when you pick her up that afternoon from her racquetball game with her ex-boyfriend. After she gives you a peck on the cheek, you offer to carry her gear five metres to the car, an offer she politely refuses. Then you open up the passenger’s side door but she makes instead for the driver’s side.

‘You’re not driving,’ she says, and she knows you can see between her legs.

‘I thought I might give you a ride back to your place.’

‘Yes, but I drive. You never look where you are going when you drive. Last time you nearly kill me. You got to keep your eyes on the road.’

She drives.

Once you’re in the car you can smell the sweat on her from the racquetball game. It’s sweet and salty and intoxicating, quite a lot like the smell she makes when she comes. It’s the smell of victory.

‘Did you win?’ you ask.

‘Of course I win,’ she says. ‘Richard never keeps his eyes on the ball. I’m tired of playing him.’

Sucked in, Richard. You relax and she drives across town.

‘You smell amazing,’ you say. ‘New deodorant?’

‘You’re a nice guy and a bad liar. I small like a pig. I didn’t shower since yesterday morning, I got up late today. I shower when we get home.’

You don’t want to argue so you just sit quiet and enjoy the rest of the ride.

Once you get home she heads upstairs and you follow her into her room.

She takes off her racquetball uniform in front of the open window and throws it over to you, still damp from the game.

‘I go take a shower now,’ she says.

‘OK, gorgeous.’

Now you hang around around downstairs, not wishing to appear too desperate. You’re wondering if she’ll get dressed and then you’ll have to undress her, or if she’s going to want dinner and a few drinks first.

The food is largely prepared; baked duck with apples, with a sauce that took you much of the morning to make. There’s a few bottles of wine, too, light red and a German white, and some vodka in case she asks for it.

After about fifteen minutes of fiddling about with the candles on the table, wondering if you should light them yet, you hear her coming out of the bathroom, and then the sound of her bedroom door closeing. You walk back up the stairs and knock.

‘Just a minute, honey,’ she says.

You walk in anyway, unable to wait. Once inside you find her in the process of getting changed into a pair of shorts and a white work shirt. While she manages to make even this outfit look incredible, it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing she’d wear to a dinner date, even if it was in her house.

In fact, as you walk in and sit down hopefully on the bed, it slowly dawns on you through the fog of lust in your mind that it seems more like…

…the kind of thing she throws on when she’s got…

See more Iga...


‘Hey, um, are you working?’ A worried tone has come into your voice. ‘I thought we had a date, this evening.’

‘Yes but I’m busy.’ She goes to her desk. ‘I was going to come down and tell you but you barged in on me.’

‘Sorry. I…um…so, what happened?’

‘I didn’t finish last night. I got distracted. Anyway I need to work now so you can go please. I be down later. Maybe at eight I finish.’

‘So what am I going to do?’

‘Did you wash my uniform yet? Also what about the cooking?’

The cooking’s done. Roast duck with apples. In case you were homesick.’

‘Yes but I don’t feel like that any more. Too heavy. Make me something with just salad. I eat chocolate last night. Anyway I need to be alone now. Please.’

She eyes the door. You take your cue and leave.

Oh well. It’s five now and she’s coming down at eight, so there’s still plenty of time to make her something else, eat it, and then hit the sack, with her in it.

You patiently make her a garden salad, and a Waldorf too, nipping out to get some fresh celery. Then you lie about on her couch trying to calm down, reading her tennis magazines, watching the news. At eight-thirty you are almost about to go up and knock to offer her a glass of wine, when she comes down the stairs, all dressed up fine, and sits down at the table, clearing the setting out of the way and putting her feet up.

‘Get me a glass of wine,’ she says. ‘I finish, e-mail to my tutor and now I want to celebrate.’

Pouring her some white wine, you ask her when she’d like to eat.

‘Not hungry. I want to go out to a wine bar. Take me out and buy me wine.’

‘OK, sure. You look gorgeous. But, do you still want to, have sex later?’

‘I’m not feeling horny. More like drinking tonight.’

‘Really? I thought this was kind of going to be a big night for us…’

‘Well, I was very horny last night, but you went out to your party instead of being with me. So I help myself out. Three times. I was looking at Novak Djokovic on the tennis DVD. I like his legs. Also I eat a lot of chocolate.’

She obviously thinks this is very funny. You nearly faint.

‘Honey, I’ve been waiting for ages and I’d really, really like to go to bed with you. Really. I know you like it when I go along with whatever you want but this is driving me crazy.’

‘Nice speech. Maybe you should make it in the mirror to your cock. Because I wanted you and your cock here last night and you were both busy. So now we go to the wine bar. Or I go on my own.’

She grins like a cat.

What are you going to do, say no to her? Yeah, right.

Oh well. Maybe tomorrow’s the day.


Episodes 2 and 3 are HERE

Disclaimer: Photos of the famous Iga Wyrwal are up all over the net in a wide variety of places, but most of them are originally from, where she has done all her best work. This preview page will lead you into their members area if you want to see more of this girl.



Life is to enjoy…



This post was listed in Sugasm 146.

This information is cross-posted from that site:


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12 thoughts on “Your Gorgeous Polish Girlfriend does not feel like having sex tonight

  1. Hmmm…

    Al Sensu commented here that the situation was a familiar one, but that his g/f was neither Polish nor gorgeous.

    I deleted it by accident amidst a host of sugasm pingbacks.

    That’s what a brain full of oxytocin will do for you.

    Sorry Al.

  2. Pingback: Sugasm #146

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