Bacon Sandwiches & Blowjobs

When he’s not being really intense and super argumentative, Brown Eyes is a lot of fun. Not just in a sexual way, in every way. But today’s post is all about the sexual way. I’ve not even started writing yet and I can already promise you this one will be #NSFW.

I’d made lunch ready for when he came ‘home’. It was his home, not mine, but for all intents and purposes, it’s our home. It might as well be, he keeps telling me it is plus I’ve started to spend as much time there as I do my own.

I was making bacon sandwiches for lunch, plus the kettle was on, that whistling old kettle I’ve grown quite fond of. I often joke that I’ll buy him a new kettle but I won’t. The whistle gives us a deadline, ‘saved by the bell’ when we’re getting frisky on the couch and probably shouldn’t be.

He’d been working on his van all morning. There’s something about the way a man smells when he’s been working on a vehicle, all oily and diesel-y. It’s an intoxicating aroma and one that definitely does things to me. When he bound in through the door like the excitable little puppy he is sometimes, I gave him a kiss and got a little whiff of that smell. I don’t think he knows yet what that smell does to me. He’s probably about to find out.

BE: ”My hands are dirty baby. Lemme wash them and I’ll come eat.”

Me: ”I don’t care. Make me dirty too.”

BE: ”Nope, I’m hungry. Feed me.”

He pottered off into the bathroom to wash his hands and I continued making bacon and tea, very aware of the heat and dampness in my underwear. He just does that to me.

We ate our bacon sandwiches, drank our cups of tea and sat for a while before he was to head back downstairs to work on the van again. Just enough time for a blowjob I reckoned. You see, I don’t know what it is about his dick but it is stunning. Can a dick be stunning? Well, I think it is. I’m a little obsessed with it and he knows that now. He knows that just popping open the buttons on his jeans is enough to get me into position. If he presents it to me, his cock will end up in my mouth. It’s inevitable. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. To me he is anyway.

I pulled his t-shirt up enough just to kiss his belly and he looked down and smiled at me because he knew what was on my mind. He rested his head back on the couch and smiled back. He’s never been a ‘blowjob guy’ apparently but with me, he can’t get enough. His words. He’s jokingly (I think) offered to write me a testimonial for the blog. He knows a little about it and I think it turns him on, knowing I’m writing down the naughty little things we get up to and other people are reading them.

Unbuckling his belt, I carried on kissing, releasing each button and pulling his boxers down as I went. He growled, that growl that drives me crazy, and I licked my lips to get ready to show him exactly how much I appreciate him. How much I love him, his cock.

Speaking of cock, I don’t like to go straight for it. I like to tease him a little, mood and time dependant of course. Ignoring it completely, I pulled his jeans and boxers down enough to gain access to his balls. Licking them, sucking them, kissing them, slowly and delicately drawing one into my mouth and rolling it around with my tongue before releasing and repeating with the other. As much as I love fucking him, and I really, really do love fucking him, I’m addicted to the power I have over him when he’s in my mouth. I don’t like to get it over and done with if I have the time to playfully tease, nibble and lick him into a frenzy. And by frenzy I mean one of his hands grabbing at my hair pushing me down, the other tightly grasping the arm of the couch, legs stiff and straight, toes curled, head thrown back and mouth open, making those noises that let me know I’m doing a really good job. What’s the point in doing a bad job?

I like to moan a little, not a porn star moan, more like a little hum, especially when I have his balls in my mouth or his cock pushing at the back of my throat. He always groans loudly so I think he likes it too. I did just that as I switched my attention from his balls to his dick, lapping and circling my tongue around his exposed tip. I know he likes it when I pay attention there, using my hands to work slowly up and down on his shaft at the same time. I also like to grab and hold his balls while I let my mouth do the work, cupping them so they fall against my palms, my fingers meeting at the top of the base of his cock. That’s when I take him in completely, tongue flat at the bottom my mouth so he can feel it sliding down the length of him until I get as far down as I can go. He seems to get super-hard when my mouth is at the base of his cock so I like to drag it out a little. I know if I bob up and down, the very top to the very bottom, the odd little gag quietly escaping when he pushes hard at the back of my mouth, he’ll cum. I know if I use my hands at the same time, he’ll cum even faster. But where’s the fun in that?

I released his cock from my mouth, looking up and giving him a playful little smile but instead of smiling back at me, he pushed me back and got up. I just assumed we were changing positions, that he wanted me to kneel on the floor and look up at him as he stood and watched himself empty across my tongue and face. He didn’t just stand up though. Boxers and jeans now around his ankles, he padded over to the kitchen, opened the freezer and that’s when I giggled. He’s done this before. It’s his jokey way of getting rid of his erection before opening the front door to a friend / going out to an appointment I was trying to make him late for / work on his van. Sometimes not getting to cum is half the fun! Did I mention that I love, love, love to tease him?

But he didn’t just open the drawer and push his groin towards the cold like he usually would. He opened the drawer, bent down to grab something and then strode back towards me with an evil smile on his face. By this point, I’d made my way to the end of the couch and was half-hanging over the arm of it, trying to working out what he was up to. When he made his way back to me, he grabbed my chin with one hand and used the other to push an ice cube into my mouth.

… But I’m now at 1,200 words and I’m pretty sure that’s too long for a blog post.

To be continued…