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The week so far (2/3) January 27, 2011

Posted by Leah in Masturbation.
2 comments

Tuesday

Tim is my best friend in graduate school. He is one year ahead of me, five years older, and acted as something of a big brother when I started. We have slept together a couple of times, but decided that we were better as friends than as friends with benefits. He turned thirty yesterday. I phoned to wish him a happy birthday.

I called a few hours before he went out to celebrate the occasion with his friends. On my end, it was just before bedtime. Toward the end of the conversation, once we had finished catching up about life and work, Tim asked if I was horny and wanted to play a little on the phone. I immediately agreed. Shedding my pajamas, I spread out on the bed and caressed the hemispheres of my breasts. One hand held each, weighing them momentarily. As Tim described the hardness of his cock in Boston, I mashed my tits flat, squeezing the flesh, compressing, rougher with my body than most lovers are with me.

Tim said he was stroking himself thinking of me naked and available for him.

I told him I would go to my knees and lick the insides of his thighs and lap at the joining of his legs. I would suck his balls, one of them at a time, lips discovering their shape. The rounded bulges they make against the skin of the scrotum exist for kisses. I wanted to nose along the length of his shaft. I would steeple my hands about the cock and suck wetly at the head, lapping the precome that saturated the crown. I promised to swirl my tongue round and round the glans. I wanted to look up at him with big eyes while I took his cock into my mouth fractionally deeper until I contained him in my throat and the head made a lump in my neck that he could see and touch. I would breathe carefully through my nose, spin my lips at the base, press my fingers against the back face of his sac, and swallow to massage the glans with the muscles of my throat.

Across the Atlantic, I heard him jerking his cock.

Remembering blowjobs past, I wanted him to bundle my hair in his grip, catching the stray locks that fell over my eyes. I recalled how he fondled my tits and ran his hands over back and shoulders while I sucked his cock and scratched at his thighs and clawed at his buttocks. I would lick the sweat from his balls and his groin.

I touched my pussy as I chronicled the act of fellatio.

Tim took up the narrative thread and explained how he would start at my breasts and work his down to my cunt, kissing each square inch of skin as he progressed to his ultimate goal. Once there, he would lick all around before addressing the pussy itself.

Fingernails peeled apart my lips. They carefully brought down the hood to expose my clitoris. A pair of fingers slipped halfway inside. They extracted the wetness at the entrance, smeared it across the roof of the clit. I diddled myself as I listened to Tim detail his oral ministrations.

I wanted to fuck him.

This was a fantasy. There was no need to think about horrid condoms. In my mind’s eye, I saw his bare cock enter me, Tim’s maleness driving into my vagina, the soft skin cloaking the hardness underneath, a rigid penis in contact with pliant muscle. My snug cunt embraced him. Cream from my pussy lubricated the motion. His erection would stretch my walls, dragging along them as he plunged headlong into me. The goatee would tickle during the kisses that we would share.

My feet were flat on the mattress. The kneecaps lifted like mountain peaks. I pressed the glass dildo against the opening. The bulbous knob on top poked past the labial flaps. I spun the glass in a way a cock cannot.

Theme and plot were dispensed with in our story. The sentences became emphatic rather than descriptive. I implored him to take my cunt as I hammered my pussy with the dildo.

“Oh, yes. Oh, fuck!”

“Oh, shit!”

“I am on top, fucking you.”

“Fuck me hard. Have me as your bitch. Come for me.”

Harsh breathing answered my heavy moans. I tried to time my climax to coincide with his. I did not succeed. Tim announced his orgasm and came with an explosive sigh. I imagined his semen leaking out of me. I pictured how I would lick the cock clean of his come and my juices. Dildo abandoned to these thoughts, I rubbed my clit vigorously until I also shuddered. It took me a few extra minutes.

Afterwards, we chatted in a pleasant shade of afterglow. Fingers soothed over my still wet pussy.

The week so far (1/3) January 27, 2011

Posted by Leah in Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Random hookups.
5 comments

Monday

I went to Daniel’s to pick up some music. He is a molecular biologist. He also plays the flute. We have had flirtatious conversations at a couple of parties.

When I arrived, he gave me the sheet music and mentioned some points the orchestra had gone over in the rehearsal that I had missed. We chatted afterwards, and he offered a beer. While we sat drinking, he made the typical guy move of stretching his arm along the back of the sofa. We spoke of our days. Before long the bottle in my hand was empty. I went to the kitchen to retrieve another pair of beers, and on my return, I positioned myself closer to him so that our thighs were flush. The arm draped behind me again.

A few drinks later, after learning that he had recently broken up with his girlfriend, I initiated contact. Pulling the sleeve of his t-shirt up, I planted a soft kiss atop his right bicep. He knew what to do after that: his arm lowered slightly and the hand pressed against my shoulder. I twisted into his body, and we kissed. I tasted the hops on his lips.

Daniel brought his weight forward, which sent me toppling. My legs separated automatically, and he occupied the space they had left. We made out from a horizontal position. Hands ran along his back and extracted the t-shirt from the waistband of his shorts. Daniel has hair longer than my own. As I combed my fingers through the locks, the incipient hardness in his pants poked at me. My pelvis elevated to encourage the erection along. I liked slipping my tongue between his lips.

When my eyes flashed open in a gap between kisses, I noticed my backpack lying on the floor. My purse wasn’t inside. I had left it in the handbag at home. I only carried my wallet.

“Do you have condoms?” I asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Too bad. We will have to save the fucking for another time.” I kissed him again.

My fingers plucked at his belt. I had the shorts off, and his briefs followed. As Daniel pulled the t-shirt up over his head, I kicked off my shoes and undressed from the waist down, tossing the clothes onto the chair opposite. His living room could have used considerably more heat. I told him I was cold. Once I removed the bra, I put the sweater top back on.

We sat on the couch and sipped our drinks. He pulled the top down far enough to expose my nipples, to which he latched on. He left them peaked and wet. His lips traveled from my mouth to the side: across the cheek, down the neck to the collar and up again to the ear. He nibbled on the lobe and on the flexible cartilage at top. His tongue snailed over the ridges and licked behind. As he teased the tongue over my teeth, I reached for his penis, which was slender and long. A hand spanned the shaft: from below the head to most of the way down. I straddled his lap. Two hands tugged, as though I was pulling on rope. My pussy was moist. I touched the glans to my belly and edged his foreskin down.

Bringing the cock upright, I knelt on the sofa cushion and took him inside my mouth. Daniel began gasping at once. His hand covered the nape of my neck and steadied my head as I sucked him. Lips applied consistent pressure as I bobbed over him. Releasing the shaft momentarily, I flickered my tongue over the balls. When I touched my tongue to the bead of precome at the tip and pulled back, it extended as a silken strand, then bowed under its weight and broke. He had a slight tang. I held the sac while I fellated, batting the balls around with my fingers.

Daniel pointed his penis vertical, and I accepted the cock deeper into my throat. Holding tightly to the base, I sucked faster. Saliva full of bubbles descended along the sides of the shaft. It made my fingers sticky and saturated the mat of pubis. He verbalized his pleasure.

Daniel liked touching me. Using the fingernails like forceps, he tweaked my nipples through the sweater. His hand caressed the top of my thigh and stroked the rump where it protruded. He manipulated my pussy. The fingertips slid along the slit. They didn’t sink inside. The fingers merely padded up and down, from below the clitoris to where the cunt lips pinch off at bottom and to the perineum slightly underneath. Reaching between my legs, he cupped me from behind. While he stroked the labia, I was conscious of the moistness of my pussy, how it oozed with arousal and the need that the conscious part of my brain would not permit me to sate. I wanted to be fucked by the cock in my mouth. I wanted to ride Daniel to an exquisite orgasm.

Instead, I kept sucking. My grip twisting along the base of the shaft, I rolled my fingers and pulled the skin taut. Lips running along the bottom surface of the erection, I mouthed the underside of the penis. I applied the lightest touch of teeth across the crown, holding the head that way for an instant before enveloping him again with the warmth and the wetness of my mouth. Sensing the approach of orgasm, I shifted to the floor. My fingers ringed around the beam. I sucked only the glans. Face pointed at the ceiling, I angled my head up and ensured eye contact. “Come in my mouth,” I told him.

I continued masturbating Daniel with my fingers with the knob balanced on my bottom lip. The first splash of semen landed on my chin. The rest of it fell on my tongue. It didn’t shoot out with any force. He was a dribbler. I jerked him until the ejaculation completed and my tongue was coated. Looking up at him, I thrust the whiteness of the semen between my lips so that it nearly spilled over, so that he could see. And then I gulped all of it down. I made sure to collect the come on my jaw and lick that from my fingers as well. He smelled of bleach and had a sharp and slightly unpleasant aftertaste. I didn’t care. I felt sexy on my knees.

It was my turn next. Daniel ate pussy like one who was ravenous. I intend to fuck him after the next concert.