"It was dirty, nasty, perfect."
Yeah, so, it happened again. That moment where, in the middle of sex, I realized I was actually, surprisingly, yes again, having the best sex of my life.
I was slick with my sweat and his, mashing my face against and all over his balls while my tits caressed his dick. He reached up, grabbed my elbows, and shoved my arms behind my back. I held them there, held them tight. His mouth enclosed over my clit before he rubbed his beard up and down the length of my pussy. It was all I could do to not cum. The rule was his dick had to be down my throat if I wanted such enjoyment.
And there, not caring, lost in the moment of pure lust for this person, breath quick yet quiet trying not to wake anyone in the house, writhing in our pile of flesh, I just knew.
Fuck, this is the new best sex of my life.
It wasn't the position. It wasn't the sexual acts. All that we did was by no means new. But it was something in our manner, something in the intensity of who-knows-how-long we fucked (I didn't check, but I'm guessing an hour), something in how much at that moment I wanted him and he wanted me that made it all the best sex of my life.
I didn't start out the night expecting sex. I was just happy he was in town. I picked Gray up from the airport, endured traffic to help him run an errand, and we dined at Chipotle before heading to my home.
With quick re-introductions to folks, I gave him the ten cent tour and we soon found ourselves in the Sun Room, him smoking a cigar and me at his feet. Whiskey sat on a nearby table. We relaxed into the moment, relaxed into seeing and being around each other again.
There was play. There is always play when we are around each other. Ashing into my mouth. Eating ash out of his hand. As I rested against his thigh, he massaged my neck, my shoulders. He pulled my hair. He wrenched my head back. He kissed me. I sighed at his touch, felt breathless from his embrace.
At his request, I took off my shirt and bra. He slipped his unshod and sockless foot in between my legs. I hugged his calf to me.
The longer we chatted, the closer his heel came to my crotch. I wore no underwear. When finally he positioned himself with his heel against my clit, he told me to ride it. I pivoted my hips up and down, up and down.
He ran his cigar against my skin. He lightly touched his heat to my back. Quiet yelps escaped me. I clung harder to his calf. His heel pressed onto my clit.
"Cum for me poetic."
I gasped. I trembled. I rode his heel harder. He touched his heat to my skin. I lost myself in the pleasure and pain.
"I love to feel you tremble."
Even after I came, I still slowly kept riding his heel.
He broke off ash into his hands, bent down, and spread it all over my torso. I looked up at him, looked into his eyes. In the moment, I felt a joy, content, I had not experienced in so long.
Soon after it was time for bed. He would shower, but I wanted to sleep with his ash on me.
When he returned from his shower, he turned out the lights and slipped into bed. We cuddled. I kissed the length of his arm.
And then I just went for it. I had felt his cock grow hard while I had sat at his feet, had grazed my cheek against that which I so desperately wanted in my mouth.
And then it was. And then his hand played with my pussy, slowly easing its way inside me as I pushed back to sink further onto his hand.
Then, after such intensity, he grabbed me by my hips and pulled me on top of him. And his lips were on my clit. And my mouth lapped at his cock and balls. And we were sweaty and breathing heavy, and fuck...
When he picked my legs back up and off of him, I thought we were about to pass out, but oh no. He grabbed my hair and began fucking my face, my lips stroking the length of his cock. I rested my head against his thigh and happily took him into me, happily submitted to his will.
And then, fuck...
He got on top, straddling his legs over my face, sinking his cock into my mouth. I gripped his thighs, slipped his dick from my lips, sunk my face into his balls, and used my elbows to push my tits together so his cock could fuck them.
His lips returned to my clit, and then I couldn't stop it. Wave after wave of orgasm surged through me. Warmth, sweet warmth, mind blowing, holy-shit-yes ecstasy overtook me. It took every once of me not to scream, not to break free and just let my vocals chords soar as no less than three intense orgasms in a row pulsed from my abdomen out to my limbs and through the rest of my body.
He reached back, again stuck his cock in my mouth, and came. I gripped my thighs against his ears, fucked his face, and came hard with him.
And then, finally, we slumped over, sweaty and fucking exhausted.
The Immigrant "Invasion" Is Just WMDs All Over Again
-
There is no immigrant invasion at the southern border of the United States.
That needs to be said at the outset any time you wanna talk about What's
Wron...
I always love your stories :)
ReplyDelete