Sit On My Face
I didn’t believe that he’d said what he’d said, when he said it. Sit on my face? What? I still had his jizz all over my back and ass. For a moment, the words wouldn’t compute. My mind couldn’t quite make sense of his order. Or was it more of a request? I wasn’t sure, but his wide-eyed look sure seemed hopeful.
“Okay,” I nodded, pulling a smile that was meant to portray excitement. It probably looked more like a grimace.
I hadn’t done that, many times. I mean, I was a chunkier girl before this little dating and sex blog started. Not only did I have body hangups, but I also worried that I might actually suffocate someone. But I was smaller now. Would things be different now?
There was only one way to find out.
OB moved on the bed, shuffling to get himself comfortable, then I climbed on top.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked nervously.
He waved his hands. “Get on right now.”
It made me chuckle. OB was so excited, and it made me feel excited. His eager smile forced the nerves away, and I slowly crawled higher until my cunt hovered over his mouth. The bristles of his beard tickled my thighs and labia, and I had to work hard to hold in that giggle. It didn’t feel like the right time for it.
I lowered myself, slowly, until my cunt smothered his mouth. That first touch was all it took for my nipples to stiffen and my breath to catch in my throat. My whole body trembled, but not because it was cold, far from it. I felt hotter than the sun, inside and out. Truth be told, I felt nervous. Anxious, even. Filled with trepidation, you could say.
It didn’t take long for those nerves to dissipate, though. He got to work, lapping and licking at my clit, working me into a frenzy. Then, my body took over. My hips started to grind and buck against his face like they had a mind of their own, forcing him to lap at me exactly where I needed him to. Not that he needed any direction, of course; I could almost kiss the ground over finding a man that had no trouble finding my clitoris.
With my hands on the headboard, I bucked and ground my way closer to climax. Closer, closer, closer. Who cared if he could breathe? There was one thing on my mind: coming, hard, all over his face.
And I did.
My crash over the precipice was loud and almost clumsy, my body writhing with no care for rhythm or pace. I spared no thought for him. It was as if OB wasn’t even there. He was simply a tool, a toy, a useful implement for me to use as I wished.
A flood of enjoyment almost drowned him beneath my thighs, and his muffled splutter brought me back to reality as the waves of pleasure slowly faded in their intensity.
I don’t normally “let go” quite like that. As slutty as I am, I’m not usually that bold, brave, or… well, carefree. I didn’t care what he thought about my naked body, my ugly orgasm face, or even my unrhythmic grinding. I must be honest, I’ve never felt anything quite like it, and I think I could become addicted to it.
When I finally released him from his jail between my thighs, he had the most beautiful boyish grin plastered across his face. He was pleased of his performance, as was I.
“Good boy,” I said, leaning down to kiss my arousal from his lips.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he replied, gripping my legs. “I’ve gotta do that again.”
And, friends, that’s just what we did. Well, after about ten minutes. A girl needs some recovery time after a workout like that!
Oh, and in case I forgot to tell you… he’s not going to the War Zone. That’s what we were celebrating.
The next blog post in the dating timeline is this one: The Proposed Threesome.
Thank you so much for reading my little dating blog today! 🖤
You can read all about One Ball, from start to finish, right here.
If you’re in the market for something else to read, why not take a peek here:
