I leaned towards him to place a kiss on his full lips. I loved the way they felt against mine; soft and firm at the same time. Sometimes I’d break our kiss slightly so that I could take his bottom lip in between my teeth and give it a light nibble or tug; he didn’t seem to mind.
I pressed harder against him as I started to get more excited. I wanted to feel his big hands all over my breasts, playing with my nipples and driving me crazy. I wanted to feel his fingers between my thighs, playing with my clit and more than anything, I wanted to feel him thrusting inside of me.
It’d been awhile since I’d been with anyone; the last guy I’d slept with couldn’t fuck his way out of a paper bag (although he wasn’t too bad with his mouth), so I was more than ready to experience a good pounding.
I find first fucks are always tricky; everyone is different, and what worked on the last guy I slept with wouldn’t do shit for this current one. It’s always a learning experience, and discovering something new about each one is always fantastic. I learn a lot that way, and I remember it and put it to good – okay,
very good – use.
Anyhow, where was I? Oh yeah. We were both on the couch and the kissing alone was getting us pretty hot. He kept going to that sweet spot on the side of my neck, right where the tendons are at their most prominent and all the nerve endings stand up to say hello!, and I was going crazy. I was writhing and moaning and pressing up against him, both my breasts and my hips, wanting to feel everything all at once.
He stripped my shirt and my bra off over my head and threw it somewhere behind him; later I found my shirt had made it all the way into the hallway and my bra was hanging off a lampstand in the next room. At the time, I didn’t really care; I gave his shirt the same treatment and got to feel his warm skin against mine.
That first press of skin against skin made us both pause for a moment and sigh. He felt so hot and his skin was just the slightest bit damp, as if he’d run up the stairs in a hurry to see me, and that combined with the light bit of hair spread across his pecs just served to get my nipples even harder than they already had been.
I shifted slightly under him to feel the scrape of nipples against him and he caught on immediately. He moved so that he was lying beside me, and when his tongue slid into my mouth to find and tease mine, his right hand came down to play with my left nipple. Sweet heaven, it felt fantastic. I could feel every tug and light pinch between my legs, and it made me want him all the more. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so hot, and we were both still clothed from the waist down.
Breaking from his mouth for a moment, I whispered, “Shall we move this to someplace more comfortable? I want to make you come.” His answer was to undo the button on my jeans and slide his hand under my thong. I took that as a yes, and though it made my hormones protest, I slid away from his hand and stood up.
“C’mon,” I said, holding my hand out to him, “I need more room to manoeuvre, and you have that beautiful big bed.” He stood up and started kissing me again, backing me slowly but inexorably towards the bedroom.
We travelled the length of the kitchen, stripping off clothes as we went. My jeans hit the floor somewhere around where the table sat, and his came off in the doorway of his bedroom. We were both barefoot and clothed solely in underwear – I in my leopard-print thong and he in plaid boxers – by the time we bumped into the bed itself, and even those were barely kept on.
In prior make-out sessions and even that one alone, I’d be unable to discern what it was he had between his legs. I think that’s one of the greatest joys – and, all-too-frequently, disappointments – of the sex act. Well, lemme tell you, there was absolutely no way I was disappointed with what I discovered that evening. This boy was
packing, and my mouth started to salivate at the thought of getting my lips around him.
I love to give head, and I’m pretty good at it; at least, I’ve had no complaints yet… usually just praised gasped out every time I’ve had someone’s favourite member in my mouth. Wanting to give this boy a chance to experience all that I had to offer, I pulled his boxers off with both hands and knelt immediately in front of him.
His cock was long and thick, and I could barely get my hand around it. I’d always read of encounters such as those, and I’d always been somewhat sceptical that cocks that large around existed. I’d certainly never stumbled upon one myself, although I’d always hoped to.
I kept my hand wrapped around the base of his cock and set to teasing his head and shaft with my lips and tongue. I started out by swirling my tongue around just the head of his cock, and seeing how he reacted to that. I wasn’t disappointed; his hands tightened a bit on my shoulders, and he spread his feet slightly to better balance himself. For a few minutes I amused myself by licking up and down the sides and base of his shaft, getting as much of his cock as I could reach nice and wet.
Once I felt satisfied that he was fairly well-lubed – and he seemed teased enough – I took his head once more between my lips and slowly slid my mouth as far down his cock as I could reach, my tongue lightly licking and rubbing against him from inside my mouth. I opened my eyes and looked up in time to see him tip his head back as he groaned from deep in his throat.
I slid my mouth up and down his shaft, twisting my head slightly from side to side as I laved my tongue against him and held on to the base of his shaft in my right hand. As he moaned and spoke words of encouragement, my left hand came up to lightly stroke and fondle his balls.
I kept up my gentle assault for a few minutes before he came out of his stupor and reached down to grip my arms. Pulling me up to stand in front of him, he hurriedly stripped off my thong and tossed it to the ground, before picking me up in his arms and placing me tenderly on the bed.
He leaned over me and began to gently assault my nipples with his lips and tongue. I moaned and arched my back towards him, and his right hand slid down my side to rest along my thigh. The whole time I was twisting and moaning from what his mouth was up to, his hand was sliding further and further up my thigh. Mentally I was encouraging him and trying to arch my hips to speed the process, but he seemed determined to drive me out of my mind.
One finger finally stole inside of me, where I was almost – almost – embarrassed at how wet I had gotten without any real attention. On the other hand, I wanted this so much I just didn’t care, and when he started sliding his finger back and forth, pressing upward on that one perfect spot inside of me, I
really didn’t care. “Oh God,” I groaned, and he moaned in reply. “You’re so tight,” he said, “that drives me insane.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but that just tends to happen when I’m really turned on.” I was having trouble concentrating too closely on our conversation, such as it was, mainly because I was much more interested in the expression of absolute lust on his face and the fantastic sensations his hands were causing.
I could feel nerve endings all over my body responding to what he was doing, and part of me wanted it to go on forever and the other part of me wanted him to put to use what I’d been playing with just short moments before. As these thoughts warred inside my head, he took my right leg and placed it over his shoulder as he bent down to bring his mouth into contact with my wet self.
He slid his finger out of me and placed both hands beneath my butt, bringing it up into closer contact with his mouth as he began to lick lightly at my lips. While normally I absolutely adore to be teased, at a time like this I’m too far gone to really appreciate it, and he seemed to sense that; his tongue found my clit immediately and set up a light lapping rhythm that seemed perfectly suited to getting me off.
I was soon to discover, however, that I had judged too quickly when I thought he wasn’t going to tease me. It seemed as if every time I was really adjusted to his rhythm and pressure and felt like I was on that road to an orgasm, he’d stop teasing at my clit and lick between my lips or press his tongue into me slightly. I kept gasping his name and clenching fistfuls of the bedsheets around me, determined not to beg, but managing to growl my displeasure every time he changed what he was doing.
After about the fifth time this happened, I lost it. I reached down to grab his face and lifted myself up slightly to look at him. “Are you doing this on purpose to drive me insane?” I growled, mock glaring at him.
“Of course,” he said, grinning up at me. “What’s wrong, you’re not having fun?”
I tugged at his shoulders to bring his body up and aligned with mine. He obliged, and feeling his hard cock pressing against my thigh gave me an idea for revenge. I reached over to the bedstand to grab a conveniently-located condom and tore the package open with my teeth.
While I was occupying myself with the business of opening the package and figuring out which way was up, he started to toy with the blunt tip of one large finger and my vulnerable clit. I could feel my eyes cross slightly and my breathing started to quicken as I got into what he was doing, but I caught myself and finally rolled the condom down the length of his cock – and I have to remind you, it was quite an impressive length
and width.
Thus protected, I pushed him until he was lying on his back, propped up against the pillows that had remained against the headboard. Swinging one leg over his hips, I reached down to align his cock with my entrance and braced my hands against his chest. I leaned down to kiss him as I ever so slowly lowered myself about an inch before back off again. Keeping up the kissing and probing with my tongue, I repeated my previous actions, lowering myself perhaps two inches this time before I slowly slid back up again.
I could feel his hips arching beneath me and his hands were tightening on my hips, but I refused to be rushed. If he could torture me so deliciously, why couldn’t I do the same to him? I kept raising and lowering myself in tantalizing increments, always adding about an inch or so each time to my descent before raising myself once more. After several minutes of this, where we still weren’t completely joined, he lost control.
Holding me to his chest, he rolled over so that I was on the bottom, and he braced himself on his hands above me. “I
have to fuck you,” he said, and grinning impishly, I asked him what was keeping him so long. He narrowed his eyes at me and growled slightly before he replied, “You,” and with the emphasis he put on the word I knew it was both an answer and a complaint.
I brought my legs up so they were bent around his hips, and he started fucking me. Each thrust touched something inside of me that felt so incredible and so teasing at the same time that I wanted to beg him to go on and at the same time beg him to stop – or at least stop teasing me. I could feel a pressure of sorts building inside of me, and my breathing and vocal cords seemed to belong to someone else; all of a sudden, something inside of me exploded and I was yelling at the top of my lungs, calling out his name, cursing, calling to God… any words I could find to express how good I felt and how amazing the whole experience was.
The more he thrust, the louder I was and the better I felt, until with a groan loud enough to rival some of mine, he came and thrust hard against me a final few times. He collapsed on top of me, still buried deep inside of me, and I could feel the aftershocks pulsing through both of us. Every time I twitched, it seemed to set him to twitching, and that combined with the memory of the words I’d said and how
loud I’d been and the sheer bliss of feeling so good set me off, and I started laughing uncontrollably.
I had no real reason as to why I was laughing, but it was a good kind of laugh; I felt fantastic and happy about who I was with and goofy and relaxed and eagerly anticipating the next time… so I laughed and felt happy and good about myself.
