Ok, it wasn’t actually that
profound or amazing, but he intimated that he might like to do something in the
evening were I feeling better, and having discovered the salutary lesson of
writing this is that it might awaken desires that can’t be fulfilled with
frosting alone, I agreed. The apartment would be empty again until quite late,
so an early evening fuck with the guy with whom I’d had such fun last week –
perhaps followed by some dinner – sounded ideal. By the end of the afternoon my
mind was already focussed on the forthcoming activities, thoughts of flailing
arms, tongues, little sweet groans and sighs and grabs and clutches, rather
than anything nearer at hand, and I rather skipped through the lobby when I saw
him there at the end of the day. We didn’t hold hands or anything, but we
walked briskly, breathlessly round the corner to the stop in the rush-hour crowd,
and into the heaving mass of humanity trundling beneath the city streets.
I felt his hand brush against my ass as we walked from the
exit to my door. As I opened it, I allowed him to push past me, taking me by
the hand not quite in an affectionate, but more in an eager, commanding way,
and he led the way up the flights of stairs, my heart beating from more than
the exertions of climbing them. The apartment was empty, thank goodness, and
from the door to my room we left a bedraggled trail of detritus, bags, shoes, a
coat, shirt, pants, top, skirt, until we were in my room again, the door left
ajar, in our underwear only. This time he lay back, as I clambered aboard,
sitting astride him feeling his growing hardness pressing against the vague
moistness of my panties. I was grinding on him, I realized, which made me
giggle, as I leaned forward to kiss him, softly at first, and then with growing
passion while his hands fought behind my back for control of my bra strap, my
own clutching at his face and neck.
We rolled down the bed laughing as his hands eagerly
attacked my breasts from both sides, fondling not tightly but firmly, and by
little movements of his head, his tongue, we wormed his way down my body until
he knelt on the floor, my legs resting on his shoulders, and he gave me a
single long delicious lick through my panties, by now wet through. I quivered
at the first touch, and he reached under my thighs, hanging almost off the bed,
to pull them but I held him back – “with your teeth”. He tried, wary lest he
bite me too hard, but the struggle to remove them made it all the more
exciting, until at length he pulled them down, the wet crotch in his mouth, his
eyes alive with desire for me, and panties down he leaned back into me, his
lips against my other lips, and tracing from just in front of my ass all the
way to my clitoris with the tip of his tongue.
He maybe took a while to find his rhythm, and I wasn’t sure
as he started that – as amazing as it feels to have your pussy so delicately
touched by a warm, soft tongue – I was going to cum that way after all, but
then he found the growing little swollen nub of my clit with his lips, and
focussed on that, squeezing gently on the cusp of his mouth as he brought a
finger, then two, to my hole, circling it over and over, spreading my wetness
then gently pushing inside me. I think I realized how much I was moaning now,
and the entrancing effort to be quieter – the window was wide open – brought
about a little mini climax, which could never be an end in itself but only a
delightful harbinger for when I felt his cock enter my cunt.
As I lay back, gasping, he stood, and kept me limply on the
bed just by some expert action of his lower arm, as he bent and stripped of his
boxers. I watched him smell, lick my juices off his arm, and he leaned over me
as I scrabbled up my bed to rest my head against the pillows, then followed me,
spreading my legs with his hands as his hard chest pressed on mine. There was
an unsexy pause while I hunted for a condom, but found it, and sat up, putting
it on him myself (there’s a first time for everything), and my hands staying at
his base, cupping, tickling his balls for moments, our mouths once more locked.
He couldn’t stand it any more, and in rough passion he pushed me backwards, and
our eyes were focussed only on each others as I guided his cock to my entrance,
feeling his head maybe pulsating against my lips, and he smiled, and I smiled,
and he pushed hard against me, filling me roundly in an instant.
We were much livelier than the last time. College yoga has
left me a little flexibility yet, and over a few minutes as I lay back, with
him thrusting inside me not fast, but hard, he gradually brought my legs up to
be level with his head, until he was no longer lying on top of me, but almost
upright, and I held my legs back for him, framing his body with mine as he
grunted and we sweated together. The opening of my legs wide made me notice
directly the action of his shaft round my lips, feel the movement not just
inside me but almost tickling, at the very entrance, and in this position he
made me cum a second time, still not that powerful but a long drawn out
exhilaration, a gentle tingling and rush that lasted far longer than usual.
Suddenly I was sensitive, it hurt, and in worry I made him
stop. But it couldn’t possibly be fair to leave it at that, and as he lay back
on the bed beside me, I slipped down the sheets, watching him watch me as I
found his cock without once looking at it, taking his full head, now faintly
smelling of the condom as much as his body, in my mouth, trying to play with it
with my tongue while moving my locked lips up and down his shaft, as my ex had
with great patience tried show me. He groaned, lying back, and then I felt his
hand on my hair, not controlling but rising and falling with my head, and I
grinned, curling myself around his body until I felt him tense up, with gasps,
his cock noticeably throbbing, his balls drawn up like a fuzzy drawstring bag
underneath, and as slowly as I dared, with my spit as sufficient lube, I
massaged, rubbed, stroked his cock-head, leaning in for little kisses before he
spasmed, and holding his shaft tightly I tugged at him at a gentle pace, and at
once with his roar of pleasure a great spurt came from the end, partly
splashing my face, and maybe four or five littler ones that fell over my hands,
adding to the slipperiness as I kept on slowly stroking him until he gasped “oh
God stop” under his breath, and I leaned against him, my sticky arm across his
cumflecked stomach.
We didn’t say anything for a few minutes, until I heard his
stomach rumble at the same moment that my roommate opened the door to the
apartment. With silent, conspiratorial laughter we picked our way through the
living room grabbing clothes as we went while she was in the bathroom – I half
hoped for, half dreaded, an encounter like this, and we dressed hurriedly on
the landing – fortunately no one else was about, and the room had been too dim
by this time for someone coming from the bright landing to see the mess of
clothes we had made.
We shared burgers, having each spent a few minutes in the
restaurant bathroom tidying ourselves more thoroughly. I can’t tell what our
relationship is, yet; for the present it is delightfully new; not exactly risky
but sneaking around to fuck is exciting. I’m seeing him again for more fun (I
hope) in the next few days – and in the meanwhile, we’re agreed again that we
can sleep with others too if we like, for the moment anyway. Presumably we’re
moving towards the status of friends-with-benefits. It’s not something
I’ve been part of before (how naïve of me). Perhaps he’s got another
beneficial-friend – or an actual girlfriend even maybe? I hope he's not married – but as yet, I’m very
eager to be his dirty little secret :P
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