Brown Eyes

April 2, 2016April 7, 2025 notsosexinthecity Watching him wank

The guy with the brown eyes was rolling a spliff. He does that a lot. It was the afternoon after the night before, and we’d eaten the bacon sandwiches I’d had ready and waiting for when he’d finished running his errands. We’d drank the teas I’d made, too. The rest of our afternoon had been reserved for getting stoned and Netflix-and-chilling, so he’d gotten himself comfortable, t-shirt off and thrown over the edge of the couch.

I was behind him on the couch, the duvet covering me, still wearing his boxer shorts and oversized t-shirt. I love wearing his clothes. I just love it.

“I’m so horny. You’ve only taken your t-shirt off, and I’m already wet.”

I’m not really a big talker when it comes to sex, so this was a pretty brave move for me. I get a sense that I could probably ask him for whatever I wanted and he’d give it to me. I’d been fed and watered, then he’d left me on my own for more than hour. Now, I wanted to get fucked. Literally. I wanted him to fuck me.

“Show me,” he said. “Slide your finger into your pussy, then slide it into my mouth. I want to feel how wet you are, and I want to taste you right now.”

I giggled because that’s what I do. I’m a mood-ruiner. A chronic giggler.

“Kitten,” his voice was much more stern. “Show me how wet you are.”

He placed the joint he was expertly rolling down on the coffee table and turned to face me. I got the impression I’d be in for a world of torment if I defied him, and for once, I didn’t want to be teased with or toyed. I just wanted to be fucked. He knew that, of course, so he’d use it to his advantage. If I didn’t do what he wanted, he wouldn’t fuck me. He didn’t even need to say the words; he just had an evil, devillish glint in his eye.

I love his eyes, a beautiful chocolate brown with the crinkly laughter lines all around the edges. They give away so much, it’s almost as if I can read his thoughts just by looking into them.

Under the duvet so he couldn’t see, I moved my hand beneath the waistband of those boxers of his, between my legs, lower and lower until I could feel my heat. My fingers easily slipped inside my cunt, and I stroked myself for a moment, for added measure.

He smiled. He can read my eyes just as much as I can read his. Opening his mouth and poking out his tongue a little, he reminded me of my command. Begrudgingly, I pulled my fingers away, reaching over to delicately slide it across his tongue. It was the smallest thing, the smallest touch. Slowly and delicately, his mouth closed around it.

Knowing he was tasting me on my own finger…

Fuck, that’s hot.

Super hot.

My cunt throbbed. Actually throbbed; that’s how much I wanted him.

He grabbed my hand and directed it back down between my legs, sliding both of our fingers inside me, then sucking them both clean.

“Here,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss me. “You taste, too.”

“Fuck me, please,” I murmured into his mouth.

Thankfully, he did. Slowly, making sure I felt every deep thrust. He fucked me until I came hard, my climax encouraging his. Right at the last minute, he pulled out, grabbing his dick and spraying me with his cum. I watched him. Every rope, every droplet, every strained facial expression and almost pained growl. There’s something very hot to me about watching a man explode like that, mouth open, unable to speak or think or anything, just hand pumping hard and fast, eyes glued to mine.

Everything about him is hot. Everything. The way his collarbone glistened with beads of sweat as he jerked himself off in front of me, the way his eyes closed shut really tight, nose scrunching up right before his mouth opened and he made that growling noise again. Everything. I could watch him do that for hours. I want to make him do that over and over and over again. More than that, I want to make him come inside my mouth.

He did later on, but at his hands, not by my oral skills. He didn’t let me suck his cock for more than a few minutes before pulling me up to kiss him, a move which frustrated me greatly. And it really is the most beautiful cock, one I very much appreciate and enjoy. It’s as though it fits perfectly in my mouth, beautifully thick and veiny. He’s not circumcised, which goes against my perfect penis ideology but it doesn’t matter, it’s perfect. It’s just what I both wanted and needed, and when I took it deep in my mouth right down to his balls, swirling my tongue around them and then his shaft on the way back up, he made that growling noise. That’s my reward – that noise he makes. That noise affects me in ways I don’t even understand.

He does things to me, this guy I can’t find a name for. He sits down next to me and just looks at me in a kinda way, and my underwear floods and my breathing changes. I can feel my face flushing. It’s a nervous anticipation – nervous because I don’t know what’s coming next, and every time he touches me I seem to learn and feel a little something new; but excited all at the same time, because I already trust him to do whatever he wants to my body. I’ve trusted him up until this point, and so far, that has worked very well in my favour.

There was no point to this blog post. I just had to write it down. He’s in my head. I’m already fucked. That guy with the hypnotic chocolate brown eyes.

Maybe that should be his name?

Mr. Brown Eyes.

Brown Eyes for short.

Thanks so much for reading my blog today! 🖤

Read all about Brown Eyes, from start to finish, right here.

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