“You’ll need to go gently with me tonight, I’m a little sore,” I told One Ball as we got into bed. It was his third night staying at mine, and we’d already had two pretty adventurous, energetic nights.
In case you missed them –
And then there we were: night three.
“I’ll go slow and use lots of lubricant. Just tell me if it gets too much,” he replied, slowly shuffling down the bed and reaching up for my briefs. “I’m going to take these off very slowly to start with.”
And that’s just what he did, peeling my underwear down inch-by-inch, kissing the skin of my thighs, then my knees, then my shins as he did so. He left them around my ankles for a while, switching his attention from stroking and kissing my thighs to twirling his fingers around my nipples. He pays more attention to my nipples than most other guys before him. In fact, he does everything I wish all the other guys had done. He plays with me; my body. He teases and tickles and tantalises with his fingers, tongue, and the head of his dick. And he does it all with an eager, boyish smile on his face that just makes me melt.
After about forty-five minutes of him touching everywhere but my clit, I could sense how wet I was. The heat radiating from between my thighs did nothing to stop the drips of my arousal from edging their way down past my ass, in between my cheeks, and pooling at the spot where my body met the bedsheets. He reached for the lubricant anyway, as he finally tugged my underwear from their spot around my ankles, and as he smeared the slickness all around my pussy I genuinely thought he was going to fuck me.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he slowly started pushing my underwear inside me.
“Is this okay? Do you like it?” he asked.
“Yesssss,” I mumbled in return.
And after a little more lubricant and some gentle fingering, the entirety of my underwear has been pushed inside of me.
“How does that feel? Tell me,” he commanded.
I thought for a moment, as best as I could in my now VERY aroused state. How did it feel? Did I like it? How would I explain to him how it felt?
“I feel … full,” I stuttered out. “Stuffed. I can feel it inside me when I move.” The words were barely a sentence I hurried them out so fast. I prayed that he wouldn’t ask me to talk again. Thankfully, he didn’t. He bowed his head down and finally touched the parts of my body he’d been ignoring for almost an hour.
When his tongue finally made contact with my clit, swirling around it and down into my underwear-stuffed cunt, it was as though all of my Christmases had come at once. It felt almost too good. Almost too sensitive. For a moment, I wondered if he’d gone too far and taken away my chances of climaxing. But as he licked and stroked and probed with his tongue, reaching his hands up to play with my nipples, I soon felt it start to crash in. Every time his tongue lapped back to my clit, I got closer and closer and closer. And then finally, at long fucking last, I knew it was going to happen.
“I’m gonna cum!” I cried out, much louder than I meant it to come out.
At the exact moment my orgasm rippled through me, he tugged my underwear out, the clean, swift motion causing me to gush uncontrollably across his hands, his face and my bedsheets. It was incredible. One of the longest orgasms I’ve ever had. It seemed to go on forever, and even when the actual waves of pleasure themselves had died down, that euphoric feeling afterwards lasted for what felt like hours.
“Making you cum all over my face is my new favourite thing to do,” he laughed as we took a break and grabbed a drink. And as I watched him gulp down an entire glass of water in three mouthfuls, I realised that I was starting to feel something quite strong for this man. We’re definitely compatible in the bedroom, and I genuinely think I could throw any idea his way without the fear of judgement or a look of disgust. He’s definitely playful and fun. Passionate and wild, too. And he seems to be obsessed with my body. OBSESSED.
He makes the biggest deal out of how wet I get, and how much it turns him on when he feels it. I can’t tell you how fucking sexy it is to hear, “You feel so fucking good!” whispered into your ear as he enters you for the first time. And he lets me play around and experiment too, although I must admit that he’s definitely more into playing with me than letting me play with him. But he does let me tease him from time to time, and he let me do that to finish him off. It seemed only right for me to pay him some attention after the absolutely mind-blowing orgasm he’d just given me … and had been giving me regularly since the moment he arrived at my front door.
So I straddled him, sliding myself up and down the length of him without letting him actually enter me. I kissed him, holding his head in my hands and running my fingers through his hair, nibbling down his earlobe and the side of his neck, enjoying him squirm as I lightly nipped my teeth around his collarbone. The hotter he got, the wetter I got. And the wetter I got, the more slippery it was for him. It didn’t take long for me to feel his legs go rigid beneath me, and for his hands to grip my flesh a little tighter than they had before. I knew he was going to cum soon so I kissed him harder, matching his heavy-handed actions with some of my own.
When he did cum it was beautiful. He pulled me in close to him, thrusting his body towards mine as I slid my wetness back and forth over his dick, and with a painful bite on my shoulder to muffle his grunts, he just let go. Loudly and proudly. I can still see the outline of his teeth on my flesh, a painful yet happy reminder of just how connected we’d been. It might not have been ‘proper’ penetrative sex, but it seemed, in a way, more intimate than that.
We didn’t fuck again for the rest of his time with me. I was too sore, too sensitive, and so was he. Night 4 brought cuddles and caresses, sex definitely taken off the table, kisses and naked closeness filling the void. It was lovely. Just lovely.