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Boy at the gym November 5, 2010

Posted by Leah in Fellatio, Fucking, Random hookups.
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We sat next to each other on the bus ride to his place, me at the window, him on the aisle. The pads of the fingers of Stephen’s right hand dragged lightly over my leg, from just above the knee to the midpoint of the thigh. The tickling sensation made me smile. I was happy that I hadn’t replaced the stockings after my shower: I enjoyed his touch on the bare skin. I stretched my knees apart as far as the narrow seat and the denim skirt would allow and was pleased when his pinky extended into the shadow.

I had seen him around campus. We are often at the gym at the same time. We have made eyes and flirted before. I watched him work out on Wednesday and noticed him noticing me staring. I liked how his gray shirt dampened with perspiration on the treadmill and how the muscles in his arms and back rippled on the rowing machine. I admired the solidity of his thighs. I caught him outside and asked him for a coffee. After that, I inquired whether he wanted to go somewhere to hang out, maybe mess around a little. Sweating from a workout makes me all wet inside.

The two of us displaced the cat from its place of repose and huddled on the loveseat in his living room. His arm draped over the cushion behind me. Pillowing my neck against the forearm, I stretched my legs over his lap. Angled up as my thighs were, he could have easily glanced into the skirt, but I appreciated that his eyes remained fixed on mine.

We kissed. My fingers gripped his collar. The touch of his lips at first was light. As our noses rubbed and the faces spun and realigned, tongues stole past lips. He held my ass and pulled my body close. I slanted my breasts into his chest. My fingernails combed the short fuzz of hair on his head. Never breaking our lip lock, never opening my eyes, I unbuttoned his shirt.

He brought my legs up, one at a time, and pulled the sensible flat shoes from my feet. While he did this, I brought the black sweatshirt over my head. There was only a pink bra underneath.

Setting my bare feet on the carpet, I elevated the ragged hem of the skirt up to the tops of my thighs. This enabled me to spread my legs for him and show him the matching bikini panties.

Stephen kissed below my ear as his hand became friendly with my pubis. I pressed my weight into the cushions while the fingers shuffled the front of the panties aside to improve his contact with my pussy. One of the fingers pressed between the lips and rubbed from side to side. It lifted from the petaling of the labia up to the clitoris. The kisses continued, on my throat and neck, on my shoulder above the bra strap, on my cheek. He lipped at the earlobe. The tongue swiped over the shell of the ear, a gesture that somehow opened a secret passage to the tips of my toes. My grip tightened on the arm reaching between my legs. The hand covering my cunt and the tickling kisses made me squirm.

A firm pressure between my shoulder blades encouraged me forward. Fingers made deft work of the clasp in back. The cups slid off my breasts. I shrugged off the brassiere and threw it on top of my hoodie. My skirt and panties were next, and then, except for a slender silver necklace, two rings, and the small metal loops in my ears, I was naked.

Because I didn’t have clothes on, and he did, I lifted the unbuttoned shirt from his shoulders. His arms wriggled free. Straddling his lap, I extricated the t-shirt from where it had been tucked into his jeans and slid my hand beneath the thin cotton to trace the muscular plates of his chest. The skin was smooth and hairless. We kissed again, mouth to mouth, our lips making soft sucking noises. I liked the way his tongue darted past my teeth, rabbit quick. I liked the curl of his bottom lip and tugged it with mine. I liked his breath rising and receding in time with my own and the taste of his warm spit mixing with my saliva.

He lifted his arms above his head for me, and I pulled off the shirt. The kisses deepened as my hands smoothed over the now exposed chest. He was built like an athlete or a god. The nerves in my fingers rejoiced at the construction of the muscles. His teeth scraped over my tongue.

Breaking contact with his mouth, I pressed my lips to his pectorals. I tasted the soft skin above the hard muscle, a touch of salt on the palate, the masculine undertow of strength and sinew beneath. My mouth settled over a nipple. I nipped the sensitive ring and swirled my tongue around the peak. My hands trailed over his flank. The lips found their way to the hollow in the middle of his chest. I kissed and licked. My tongue lapped at the projections of the muscles in his abdomen. His hands gathered my hair behind me. I felt the glancing touch of his powerful fingers at my neck. I stuck my tongue in his navel and kissed wetly, the way he had kissed my ear.

I wanted to go to my knees for his cock, but Stephen brought me back to the sofa, sitting me by his side. The leg nearer to him hooked automatically over his. Knee pointing up, the calf kicking against his denim clad thigh, I opened my legs wide and stretched my body across his. As we kissed audibly and wetly, his fingers worked the outside of my cunt, rubbing the lips and the clit. My hand anchored itself to the back of his neck, and I used that hold as a fulcrum with which I undulated my hips. Slanted diagonally on the couch and over him, my body undulated as I sought to feel his fingers move against me differently, with a harder touch, a broader stroke, a better angle.

His free arm wrapped me, the fingertips extending to press at the side of my breast. His thumb squeezed past the labia. Twisting in the loveseat, I straddled his lap once more to face him and clasped the back of his head while our lips renewed their acquaintance. The short buzz of hair was like sand against my skin.

When his fingers pulled at my ass cheeks, the lips of my pussy dragged over the coarse denim of his jeans. I deposited kisses on the side of his neck and over his throat. I fed him my breasts and let him feast on the nipples. His erection prodded me from below.

My arms wrapped around his back and I gripped his neck with my upper arms. One of his hands pushed between my shoulder blades. The fingers trailed up and down my spine. My tongue spilled into his open mouth. When Stephen stood, he lifted me with him. The immense arms cradled my back and buttocks and carried my weight easily. I vined my legs around him and pressed my chest against his. Still the kisses continued.

Eventually, he set me down, and the jeans came off. We abandoned the clothes and went to the bedroom.

I tightened and loosened my hand over his scrotum as we kissed some more in bed. When I started lipping the head of his penis, the shaft still had a plastic quality. I loved how the penis stiffened between my lips. As I sucked him to his full hardness, he cupped the back of my head. I fingered the base and the balls and flickered my tongue against the knob. I brought my face over him vigorously, taking the shaft deep inside, sinking almost to the lip of the scrotum. I was in a half-sitting position with my legs spread. Stephen fingered my pussy.

When I beat the helmet against my tongue, he took his cock from me. He stroked the shaft while I nursed again at its tip. His hand applied pressure at the back of my neck to keep me down over him. While he moaned, I caressed the balls and dribbled my spit down the sides. My fingers jerked the stem while I bobbed over the front part of the erection.

We did the bit with the condom, and then Stephen positioned me on hands and knees. I licked my fingers and pressed them to my cunt to prepare his entry. He coaxed my knees apart and pushed into me from behind. The shaft eased past the lips, and then he swiveled his hips and fell in the whole way. I began moaning immediately as he held my hips and thrust the shaft in and out. My head and shoulders lowered to the mattress. I luxuriated in the fullness in my cunt, celebrating the presence of this new cock. The wetness lubricated the motion inside. Stephen clutched my buttocks and slapped the flesh experimentally. When he did this, I bit my lip and groaned. My ass thrust back at him as I tried to allow the cock to push down deeper.

He leaned over my shoulder, and he kissed me. I liked how he maintained the contact of lips while he fucked me. My muscles squeezed him.

In the course of the kisses, he pulled me against his body. He leaned backward on his arms, and I brought myself to a partly upright position. Calves flanking his, I propped my weight on my arms and bounced myself over the penis. Keeping the shaft embedded halfway, I was able to rub the head against the G-spot. Reaching between my legs, I scissored two fingers around my clitoris. The friction inside and out made my cunt wetter and looser.

He told me how he enjoyed seeing my ass shake, so I spun my hips to exaggerate the movements in back. He slapped my buttocks, alternating between the cheeks.

I wanted the spanking to be heavier. I entreated him for more. I asked him to pull my hair. He thrust with his pelvis and fucked me forcefully.

We shifted positions. I rolled onto my back and held my legs spread in the air. While my hand rubbed energetically over the clit, Stephen entered me again. He was on his knees. Hands on either side of me braced his body above mine. He kissed me. His tongue licked my chin. His hips initiated the propulsive movement of the cock. I begged him to go faster and harder. His cock made me come. My consciousness shifted to my cunt. The sudden, powerful release, the seizure of the muscles inside, the responsiveness of the nerve endings — all these sensations drugged me up. I was floating in an orgasmic haze.

After my climax, he sat on the bed on his knees, legs spread open, and pounded the cock into me. My head dangled from the bed. I clutched his knees and held on to the bright white sheets on the mattress. The walls of my pussy collapsed around him. The muscles tightened and compressed. I came a second time, harder than the first. Somehow, he rode the cataclysm out without sperming by a visible exertion of will.

The cock had stiffened within me, and he brought his body over mine, blanketing me with his weight at last. I felt small under his powerful frame. He held me by the shoulders. His touch smoothed over my arms. He kissed me tenderly while I recovered my breath. The cock rocked inside my pussy softly as our tonguetips flickered together.

I wanted him to come. I needed to pay my orgasms back. I told him to fuck me until he spilled, to be as rough with me as he liked.

He positioned me on the edge of the bed and brought my legs vertical. He gripped each foot below the ankle. One knee on the mattress, the other leg mooring him to the floor, he fucked my pussy hard. He embedded himself fully and withdrew only the last inches of the cock before he pistoned in again. I made my pussy tight as he brought my legs together high above my chest. I encouraged him with dirty words. I beseeched him to use my cunt for his pleasure.

My thighs pressed against my breasts, folded up as I was. My arms stretched to either side of my body. I clutched the sheets while he fucked me. I screwed my eyes shut and restrained the compulsion to come so that he would have his climax first.

Compressing the muscles about his shaft, I moaned so very loudly. Stephen responded by baring his teeth. The pace of the fucking altered perceptibly. The movements became more frantic, more desperate, more fierce.

“Come in my pussy. Come in my pussy,” I chanted.

He came with a booming bellow. The bed shook. I felt the shaft quivering against my walls. The head twitched deep inside me. I let go and followed with my own convulsions.

I was meeting my roommate and her fiancé for dinner, so I couldn’t stay. He retrieved our clothes where they had been shed in the other room. When he returned the condom was drooping from his cock. I peeled it off. After that, I couldn’t help but suck his penis one more time.

The blowjob started out with me lying on my belly on the bed. But once I had him hard as obsidian, I flipped over onto my back. His thighs straddled my head, which was at the very edge of the mattress. While I shucked my fingers over the bottom part of the shaft, he lowered the front part into me. I liked seeing his hairy legs rising on either side of my head, the thicket of hair at his groin, the bristly ass beneath my hand. I sucked in a rhythm as he brought the crown past my lips.

“Don’t hold back,” I cautioned. “I don’t have much time.”

As I requested, Stephen didn’t restrain himself. He fucked my face violently after that. The movement began in his thighs. The cock encroached into my throat. A few minutes of this, and he grunted and came explosively. My mouth couldn’t contain his semen. It flowed down my cheek and trailed behind an ear. It made my throat sticky. I had it in my hair.

I cleaned up and got dressed. I gave him my digits before I left. I am sure I will run into him again at the gym, but considering it has been two days, and he hasn’t called, I may not be inclined to repeat the experience.

Comments»

1. David - November 6, 2010

‘Hard as obsidian’. I like it

2. Paul - November 7, 2010

You might disagree, but this is a great line:

“I am sure I will run into him again at the gym, but considering it has been two days, and he hasn’t called, I may not be inclined to repeat the experience.”

And a compelling storyline going forward.

Leah - November 7, 2010

Thanks for the comment.

There’s no going forward. He didn’t call. The end.

This is a bit disappointing. A repeat performance could have been fun. Stephen was good at foreplay and had latent dominant tendencies that I wanted to tap.

A word of advice, guys: when a girl gives you her phone number after having sex with you, that’s a huge signal that she wants to fuck you again. Call the day after.

JP - November 9, 2010

He probably had a girlfriend and felt guilty about it later.

Leah - November 9, 2010

Maybe. I only noticed one toothbrush in the bathroom though.

Anyway, he’s old news. I have a date tonight.

3. Leah - November 7, 2010

Thanks, Fleshbot!

4. David - November 8, 2010

His loss

5. Michael - November 8, 2010

Hey Leah,
Just a note to say I’m really enjoying this blog. There is so many blogs out there, but very few capture my attention as a regular reader – just you carnalis.blogspot.com and prettydumbthings.typepad.com at the moment. Three very different blogs, but a lot of thought and care obviously goes into all of them. I appreciate the attention you give to selecting just the right words and the detail, it makes me recall the writing I did during the sluttiest part of my life. I do’t feel like writing about sex these days, but back then all the little nuances were important. I remember once lying back against the bed head, as my gf at the time ground her hips on top of me, her hands gripping the bedhead, sweat patches appearing under her tight white t-shirt. I can still see her face at that moment, her scent…would I still remember so vividly if I had not wrote it down?
Anyways, keep up the good work and enjoy.

Leah - November 8, 2010

Thanks for the kind words and also to the pointers to other blogs worth reading.

Sex endures in memory. For me it’s not so much selecting the right words as finding the right images. It’s a sequence of snapshots rather than a film.

6. redains - November 10, 2010

They say Mozart could hear a concerto, then sit down at the piano and play the whole thing again, with improvements. You are the Mozart of sex. Your foreplay is the best I have ever known. You are touched by the Gods.

Leah - November 10, 2010

You’re too kind. Thank you.


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