I am quickly losing my reluctance to fuck M with me on top. He has always enjoyed having me on top, but when he would pull me onto him, or tell me to get on top, I would whine "But I don't like to be on top," before grudgingly climbing on. However, I have been orgasming consistently while riding M lately, and it's gone a long way towards abolishing my shyness and insecurity.
He likes when I take the initiative and climb onto him, but I'm not quite there just yet. I've done it, of course, but it's still not my preference. I'm coming around, tho, and I've been doing it much more often. I'm not sure if he's noticed. I know M's noticed all the orgasms because he's said to me, "I don't know why you always complain about being on top, you cum so much when you're on top." Heh heh
And my god, every time I do wedge his cock into me, easing myself down onto him, it makes me sharply inhale. I need a second to adjust to it before I begin to work myself on top of him. It makes no difference how soaking wet I am, or even if he's fingered me, M's cock still stuffs and forces me open. That first pierce is so delicious, it makes me concerned about him fisting me, and that feeling possibly going away.
Once I've accustomed my cunt to M buried up inside of me, I begin to slide myself on his cock. I get an image in my head of my pussy lips gripping at his cock, because that's the way it feels. My cunt is like a hungry mouth sucking his cock up into me, desperate for every inch. I don't bounce so much as I grind my clit down against him and buck my hips to rub the head of his cock across my g-spot and bumping my cervix.
M doesn't just lay back and motionless, his hips thrust upward matching my rhythm and intensifying the burning sensation that spreads through my body. My face and chest get flushed and my legs straddling his hips shudder so that even M can feel it. I throw my head back grunting and moaning at the ceiling. I dig my fingers into his chest and often he'll have to place his hands on my waist to still me and stave off his own orgasm. And when I've cum I collapse on top of him, panting and sweating, unable to speak.
Sometimes he won't allow me to stop until I've cum several times. Once I've had the initial orgasm it's much easier for me to cum again, so M will nudge me back into a sitting position and instruct me to "Make [myself] cum again." And, still cloudy headed, I resume rocking my hips, both of our thighs soaked with my juices, and quickly bring myself to another orgasm. He has made me do this over and over before, exhausting me. I can ejaculate doing this. My body well let out a deluge of wetness that drenches M and the sheets beneath us. M has teased me about how I get so wet that his balls and asshole get soaked with my juices.
No doubt M will be pleased to learn of my changing taste for riding him. It's difficult to convince myself that I would rather whine futilely than slither onto a gorgeous boy and have my pussy jammed with cock until I come to a screaming orgasm.
Next I think I have to tackle becoming proficient in anal while I'm on top! ;)
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Muddling Thru
It's been difficult to write posts lately. I don't want to only do linear recountings of the sex M and I have. For one thing, I think it could be pretty boring. Our sex isn't boring, but the retelling might not be of much interest, particularly since we have sex multiple times in a visit and that would make the posts very lengthy.
Also, I don't quite know how to write about the other aspects of our relationship outside of the sex. I'm not even sure what our relationship is at the moment. M has told me that he's can't, or doesn't want to be, in an exclusive relationship. It was an odd combination of relief and disappointment to learn that. I was grateful to hear the truth from him, at the same time I was obviously unhappy to learn he wanted to be with girls other than me.
We continue to see each other, tho it looked for a while as though we wouldn't. After so many arguments, "discussions", hurt feelings, and crying fits it looked so bleak that I figured we'd never be able to be around each other. The lying he was doing, so unnecessary in my opinion, seemed never ending, and I didn't feel like I was ever going to know what was truly going on.
M was seeing/talking to other girls all while I was trying to reconcile my feelings with what I was hearing from him. I think he was embarrassed and felt guilty about being caught out in his lies, and I felt like I was the one being punished for his transgressions while he blithely went about his life as if I had never been involved in it. Yet, I never considered him to be malicious, even when I found out about the lies. I don't believe he lied and cheated out of cruelty, but out of insecurity and fear.
Not that these are excuses, there is no excuse for what he did. There was never any reason for him to lie to me, I've had all types of relationships. The pain I was put thru could have been avoided, and continuing to lie to me only left me more confused and hurt.
The bizarre thing is that he trusts me "more than [he] trusts most people", and I think he means that. I hope he's telling me the truth now, and when I ask him about other girls, or where he was or what he was doing, that he'll keep on being honest with me. It's the only way I see that I'll be able to do this, and I do want to do this. I enjoy being with M, and I'm reluctant to end something that brings us so much pleasure.
It's confusing at times, but I'm muddling through it. The time we've been spending with each other lately has been filled with laughter and fantastic sex. M's the only guy I want to be with, and that was brought into sharp focus recently when I was reminded of what exactly is out there. M and I get along so well, and if he continues to be honest with me, I'm happy.
It'll be back to the explicit sex tomorrow. ;)
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Torture
I can't get the image of M's glistening cock out of my head. I'm sitting here, minding my own business, and I get a flash of his cock fully erect. It's dark with desire and directed towards my mouth as I bend down to lick.
M's cock is shiny from my saliva, and we're in the middle of changing positions, as I steal a glance before bending down to renew my oral attentions. It strains towards me, deeply reddened and his balls fit perfectly in my hand, like a sun warmed peach. I squeeze his balls, testing their firmness and tug gently, running my fingertips across the ridge behind them. I use my nails to gently scrape the sensitive flesh between his balls and asshole, teasing between his ass cheeks a bit, making him wonder if I'll enter his ass with a finger or two.
The head of his cock I rub across my lips, he's so slippery I have to capture the head between my lips so he doesn't drop away. I take him in further flattening my tongue against the underside of his shaft. I want to get him dripping with spit, lubing him up to deep throat.
Once he's slick, I press him further into the back of my throat. Bent over with him fully embedded in my face I can't breathe, and I fight against the urge to choke and cough, continuing to press him in as far as possible. He puts his hand to the back of my head, and I sense that familiar pop when he gets past that last barrier in the back of my throat. I relax and suppress my gagging as he pulls out and slams back into me. Over and over he ponds into my mouth, pausing for a moment or two once he buried all the way, then pulling out to thrust in again.
My nose begins to run and I haven't had a good breath during this entire onslaught. I can only manage to grab a few gasps between choking thrusts. My clit is a hard pebble screaming for attention and I can feel the wetness seeping from between my pussy lips. I have been known to become so wet that a thread drips to the mattress to pool on my sheets. It embarrasses me how turned on I become from performing oral sex on M, it creates the conflict between finishing him off with my mouth or fucking him with my aching pussy.
The dilemma of choosing is possibly why this image is just a flash, and has no orgasmic conclusion. I receive the succession of images, flash* flash* flash*, and I respond to it physically immediately. Sense memory come flooding into me and I feel him against my tongue, smell his scent filling my head, I get dizzy with it. My ears buzz with his rare grunts, his heavy breathing, and the infrequently moaned "Oh fuck".
I imagine his eyes following the curves of my body across my back to the dimples above my ass and over the mounds of my ass cheeks. I can almost feel the creeping fingers dipping in between the cleft of my ass, invading my asshole. It makes me wriggle when he does that, and I have sometimes been restrained with his hands; my face impaled on his cock while his finger explores my asshole.
I want to do all this and more. My brain embroiders and expands these fantasies without my even trying. I try to shake my head to free them, I try to write them out to exorcise them, I play with myself to satisfy them, but it refuses to lessen. Every orifice is hungry and aching to be filled. My veins vibrate with desire. My skin is so sensitive. My hands travel to my clit absentmindedly, and I find myself rubbing before I realize what I'm even doing.
It's torture.
M's cock is shiny from my saliva, and we're in the middle of changing positions, as I steal a glance before bending down to renew my oral attentions. It strains towards me, deeply reddened and his balls fit perfectly in my hand, like a sun warmed peach. I squeeze his balls, testing their firmness and tug gently, running my fingertips across the ridge behind them. I use my nails to gently scrape the sensitive flesh between his balls and asshole, teasing between his ass cheeks a bit, making him wonder if I'll enter his ass with a finger or two.
The head of his cock I rub across my lips, he's so slippery I have to capture the head between my lips so he doesn't drop away. I take him in further flattening my tongue against the underside of his shaft. I want to get him dripping with spit, lubing him up to deep throat.
Once he's slick, I press him further into the back of my throat. Bent over with him fully embedded in my face I can't breathe, and I fight against the urge to choke and cough, continuing to press him in as far as possible. He puts his hand to the back of my head, and I sense that familiar pop when he gets past that last barrier in the back of my throat. I relax and suppress my gagging as he pulls out and slams back into me. Over and over he ponds into my mouth, pausing for a moment or two once he buried all the way, then pulling out to thrust in again.
My nose begins to run and I haven't had a good breath during this entire onslaught. I can only manage to grab a few gasps between choking thrusts. My clit is a hard pebble screaming for attention and I can feel the wetness seeping from between my pussy lips. I have been known to become so wet that a thread drips to the mattress to pool on my sheets. It embarrasses me how turned on I become from performing oral sex on M, it creates the conflict between finishing him off with my mouth or fucking him with my aching pussy.
The dilemma of choosing is possibly why this image is just a flash, and has no orgasmic conclusion. I receive the succession of images, flash* flash* flash*, and I respond to it physically immediately. Sense memory come flooding into me and I feel him against my tongue, smell his scent filling my head, I get dizzy with it. My ears buzz with his rare grunts, his heavy breathing, and the infrequently moaned "Oh fuck".
I imagine his eyes following the curves of my body across my back to the dimples above my ass and over the mounds of my ass cheeks. I can almost feel the creeping fingers dipping in between the cleft of my ass, invading my asshole. It makes me wriggle when he does that, and I have sometimes been restrained with his hands; my face impaled on his cock while his finger explores my asshole.
I want to do all this and more. My brain embroiders and expands these fantasies without my even trying. I try to shake my head to free them, I try to write them out to exorcise them, I play with myself to satisfy them, but it refuses to lessen. Every orifice is hungry and aching to be filled. My veins vibrate with desire. My skin is so sensitive. My hands travel to my clit absentmindedly, and I find myself rubbing before I realize what I'm even doing.
It's torture.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Bedridden
I haven't had any type of BDSM play in a while. Neither as the top or the bottom, and I think it's starting to get to me.
All this week I have been thinking of the raunchiest scenarios. My fantasies don't usually center around my ass, tho anal is often an aspect of it, but lately I've been spending a lot of time thinking of ass play. Particularly performing or being on display and presenting myself. I'm not sure if it's the humiliation I'm craving or if my wantonness would have me being a panting whore willing to do anything to please. Either reaction sounds pretty hot to me right now.
I tried to write posts twice this week already, but became sidetracked by my horniness. I feel like a raw nerve humming and ready to cum. Playing with myself has offered little relief, and that only temporary. Very temporary.
Some images that keep flashing into my mind are bending over and having my asshole kissed as tho it were my mouth while M pinches my clit, having my finger and M's finger inside my ass at the same time, spreading my asshole open while M rubs the head of his cock against it, popping just the tip in and out of my asshole, having him pull my head back and biting my neck ass he pounds me giving my clit pinches and flicks.
Also, I have been aching for a replay of the time M took my ass when I was on my back and slid a finger into my cunt at the same time. I have a few toys, and I have been thinking lately that the remote control bullet I use on M might be fun on me too, and the thought of being double stuffed with a vibe and M's cock has been sending me to my bed a lot over the last few months.
I've also been fantasizing about teasing M; delaying his pleasure to heighten it. I've never really done that to him, he's said before that we can't be around each other for 5 minutes before we're all over each other, a slight exaggeration but probably not by much. I'm curious to see what his reaction would be to being denied what he usually receives so readily. His expression gets quite fierce when he's fucking me, but how much more passionate and aggressive would he become if I were a cocktease smirking at his frustration? What would happen if I were the temptress instead of the oh so willing soaking wet whore ready for anything?
So, it's been torment for me for days. And, yet again, I'm off to bed...
All this week I have been thinking of the raunchiest scenarios. My fantasies don't usually center around my ass, tho anal is often an aspect of it, but lately I've been spending a lot of time thinking of ass play. Particularly performing or being on display and presenting myself. I'm not sure if it's the humiliation I'm craving or if my wantonness would have me being a panting whore willing to do anything to please. Either reaction sounds pretty hot to me right now.
I tried to write posts twice this week already, but became sidetracked by my horniness. I feel like a raw nerve humming and ready to cum. Playing with myself has offered little relief, and that only temporary. Very temporary.
Some images that keep flashing into my mind are bending over and having my asshole kissed as tho it were my mouth while M pinches my clit, having my finger and M's finger inside my ass at the same time, spreading my asshole open while M rubs the head of his cock against it, popping just the tip in and out of my asshole, having him pull my head back and biting my neck ass he pounds me giving my clit pinches and flicks.
Also, I have been aching for a replay of the time M took my ass when I was on my back and slid a finger into my cunt at the same time. I have a few toys, and I have been thinking lately that the remote control bullet I use on M might be fun on me too, and the thought of being double stuffed with a vibe and M's cock has been sending me to my bed a lot over the last few months.
I've also been fantasizing about teasing M; delaying his pleasure to heighten it. I've never really done that to him, he's said before that we can't be around each other for 5 minutes before we're all over each other, a slight exaggeration but probably not by much. I'm curious to see what his reaction would be to being denied what he usually receives so readily. His expression gets quite fierce when he's fucking me, but how much more passionate and aggressive would he become if I were a cocktease smirking at his frustration? What would happen if I were the temptress instead of the oh so willing soaking wet whore ready for anything?
So, it's been torment for me for days. And, yet again, I'm off to bed...
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Saturday, August 1, 2009
A Turn of Events
M did call last Monday. I hadn't expected it, but I was pleasently surprised, if a little unnerved, when we talked. I suppose he wanted to see me, too, because we ended up speaking to each other on the phone while appearing on our webcams. And my god was it good to see him. I wasn't as excited for him to see me, it was so hot that night and i was all sweaty, but looking at each other was reassuring in its own way.
Thursday night was bad. I had a bit of a breakdown. I think the strain just got to be too much for me. The not knowing. The depression. The loss. My having PMS. Just everything coming together in a perfect storm of misery and hopelessness.
By Friday afternoon I felt a bit better. I had resolved to just lay in bed watching bad TV. I thought to myself "Well, maybe M will call to chat before bed tonight. It's unlikely, but maybe. That would be nice." When I looked at my phone around 7pm to check the time, I saw that there was a text as well as a missed call from M, so I called him back.
We talked, and he wanted to come see each other. I straightened up my neglected apartment, and jumped in the shower. I shaved a bit, but I didn't give myself an enema or nair my bikini line as I would normally do, I didn't want to get my hopes up. He may not even want me to touch him, he had previously backed away from me when I had attempted to, and anyway I didn't want to get ahead of myself. It had been nearly a month since I'd seen him.
When he arrived he showed me his new bag. After going thru all of it's features, he seemed to realize he hadn't greeted me with a hug or anything, so he gripped me up in a big tight hug. It reassured me a bit that I at least wasn't going to have to worry about an occasional stray stroke. And it was nice to smell him and feel him again.
We ordered pizza, and watched Real Time on HBO ( I love Rachel Maddow!), and as we laid there watching TV, he pulled me in close beside him and had me lay my head on his shoulder as he stroked my hair. Just him reaching for me makes me melt, but when he strokes my hair I sink even further into relaxation and comfort. Still, I didn't completely allow myself to hope for too much more. I didn't dare.
When Real Time was over, I rolled on to my side, figuring we would chat some more. He took off his glasses, rolled over to face me, and nuzzled his face against my chest. His free hand came up behind my head and pulled my face down to his, and then he kissed me. And he tasted so good and his tongue filled my mouth, and it was velvety and soft, and aggresive and decisive. I didn't sense any caution in his kiss, but I was still unsure of what I should do. Nevertheless, I kissed back, with growing ardour.
His hand moved from behind my head down to my hip, and he kneaded my flesh, gripping me firmly. His knee nudged between my thighs and he pulled my leg over his hip so I was straddling him. By now our bodies were pressed tightly against each other, and the kisses were becoming more and more passionate. I don't know how to describe this all without it coming off as rushed, but even while it was happening I thought to myself how hungry we were for each other, but also that it didn't feel rushed or erratic. It was electric and exciting, but it wasn't frenzied. It was sensual.
M rolled me onto my back and settled between my legs. Kisses and kisses and more kisses. Kisses on my neck. Kisses on my collarbone. Kisses on my earlobe, and his breathe across my ear sending a thrilling shiver down my spine, making me moan out loud. And I noticed how hard I was breatheing. And we were grinding our bodies together like a couple of teenagers. That's when I realized I was already dripping wet.
We slipped off his shirt, and it was my chance to kiss along his collarbone and the tattoos I never thought I'd touch again. And his skin smelled amazing. And then my shirt came off, and he laid me back down and leaned back to look at me. He ran his hands from my shoulders down across my breasts, down my ribs and across my stomach. He leaned over me reaching for my breasts, grabbing them up in both hands, sucking on my already hard nipples.
My hands touched every exposed part of him. I dug my fingers into his shoulders, and ran my fingers up and down his back, cupping his pecs. Anywhere I could reach, anything I could grab a hold of, just to feel him.
He leaned back again, and his hands went to unbutton my jeans, and he pulled them off me. I wrapped my legs around him, but then my panties soon followed my jeans, and then his bottoms were off. Again he leaned back, and I felt his finger slide between my wet pussy lips, slipping up to my clit, then sliding back down. Up and down between my lips, and I quivered from the touch of his single finger.
He spread my thighs, wide, and he lightly kissed and licked the insides of my thighs. I felt that velvet tongue on my clit, lapping at me, and two fingers entering me. His free hand cupped my ass, and lifted me up to his mouth. I had fantasized earlier in the day about his mouth on my pussy, had been aching for it.
He climbed up from between my legs and I reached up to kiss him, licking my juices from his lips. I kissed my way down to his cock, and he moaned when I slid him into my mouth. I held his balls in my hand, and drew him deeper into my mouth. His hands were all over my body, and I couldn't take much more. I lifted my face up to him, and whispered,"Fuck me."
He pulled me on top of his lap and I wedged his cock inside of me, and slid down onto him. He remained sitting up, and I used his shoulders as leverage to work myself on top of him. Maybe because it had been nearly a month since I've fucked, or maybe because he was super hard and super thick, but I was completely stuffed. He had to keep stopping me from moving so he wouldn't cum too soon. I felt like I was going to burn up, and my cunt was involuntarily squeezing him inside of me even when I was trying to be still.
I felt none of the self conciousness I usually feel when I'm on top. I probably could have stayed up there the whole time, but I think it was too much for M. Either that or he just wanted to pound me. :D
He got me on my back, kissing my face and my neck. His hands closed around my throat and squeezed, cutting off my air. I think he got a bit distracted because I think I started to go unconcious. There was a flooding, crashing wave sound in my head. Everything was swirling, and I couldn't see. I didn't even realize it was happening until I was gasping for breathe, and I was confused where I was and what was happening. I said to M, "Wait a sec," as I caught my breathe and "came to". He cradled me close to his chest, and resumed sliding in and out of me gently, working his way back up to fucking me as hard as before.
M flipped me around onto my hands and knees and gathered my hair up into his hand as he reentered me. His left hand comes across my chest, first grabbing my breast, then clasping my right arm pressing my back against his chest. His forehead is on my left shoulder and we're both panting and moaning. I'm arching my back to get as much of him in me as possible, he lets me go and I seal my chest to the bed, grinding my ass against him like a cat in heat.
Once again he flips me onto my back, and hooks my knees over the crook of his elbows. I love this position because of how deeply he can penetrate me and the way the head of his cock butts up against that sensitive spot at the top in the back of my cunt. I have fistfuls of comforter in my hands, I'm practically hyperventilating. My head is swimming, and I can feel the wet spot growing under my ass.
Suddenly, M pulls out and brings his cock up to my face and shoves himself down my throat beginning to cum. He pulls out and jerks off into my open mouth, shuddering when my tongue wraps around the tip. I swallow everything, and we both sort of collapse his head at my feet, exhausted and gasping. I lift my head up a bit just as M does, and he reaches out for my hand to pull me to him. I get my after fuck kiss as I tuck myself into the cuddle M offers, the mingled scent of our bodies covers us like a perfume.
The sweat on our bodies hasn't even dried before M says to me, eyes closed and with a smile,"Give me a few minutes, I want to fuck you again." I giggle and snuggle in closer. It's not unusual for us to fuck multiple times in a night, but I admit I was happy to have the one time, and I was still trying to not expect too much. And I was especially pleased that he was already thinking about fucking me again.
I was smoking my after sex cigarette when I told him how my breasts were aching during the day, but that when he had grabbed them it hadn't hurt at all. I said I must have had a ton of endorphins coursing through my body. His hand creeps between my thighs and he says, "How would you like some more endorphins," and begins to pinch and toy with my clit. A bit of advice ladies, if you ever get the chance to be fingered by a bassist...take it!!! ;)
Well, of course that led to another bout of excellent fucking. And after that M took a catnap curled around me while I sat up smoking and watching the rerun of Real Time. He woke up and kissed my back, and I ran my nails across his back. M loves when I scratch his back, and he practically purrs when I do it. He murmurs that he wants to fuck again, and I have to say that really was a surprise to me. Another pleasant surprise.
So, M and I fucked again. Tho I think he was disappointed that I hadn't made my ass ready. I told him that I hadn't even been sure that he would let me touch him, nevermind fucking me, so I hadn't done much prep. I hadn't even put makeup on or done my hair, which I don't think has happened the entire time I have been with M. And I'm not even one of those girls that wears makeup every day, I wear it enough for work. But I always try to look my best for M.
After all that we were both spent. There was a little sleepy conversation before I turned out the light and rolled over to sleep. M pulled me into the curve of his body, throwing his leg over my hip. In the morning I woke up first, as is usual. He wakes up with a smile and I flatter myself that he's happy to be waking up in my bed with me. He edges over to me coaxing my arms around him. He draws me in to kiss him, but I say "No, I have morning pizza breathe. And cigarettes." He says, "My cock doesn't have a sense of smell," and I roll my eyes at him as he gives me that naughty grin of his.
We had sex once more before we run to WaWa for coffee, and M had leave early to meet up with his bandmates to travel to thier gig that night. I was pretty happy for the rest of the weekend, and I'm happy to have spent time with M. He wants to "take things slow" and I have mixed feelings about that. On the one hand it makes sense, and on the other hand it sounds like trying to walk the cat backwards.
I'm cautiosly optomistic at this point. M says he cares for me, and he says he doesn't want to be with other girls and that it just made things "complicated", and he doesn't want that. I'm inclined to agree about the desire for things to be drama free, I just hope that doesn't mean he's not taking this seriously. I guess I'll see what happens.
Thursday night was bad. I had a bit of a breakdown. I think the strain just got to be too much for me. The not knowing. The depression. The loss. My having PMS. Just everything coming together in a perfect storm of misery and hopelessness.
By Friday afternoon I felt a bit better. I had resolved to just lay in bed watching bad TV. I thought to myself "Well, maybe M will call to chat before bed tonight. It's unlikely, but maybe. That would be nice." When I looked at my phone around 7pm to check the time, I saw that there was a text as well as a missed call from M, so I called him back.
We talked, and he wanted to come see each other. I straightened up my neglected apartment, and jumped in the shower. I shaved a bit, but I didn't give myself an enema or nair my bikini line as I would normally do, I didn't want to get my hopes up. He may not even want me to touch him, he had previously backed away from me when I had attempted to, and anyway I didn't want to get ahead of myself. It had been nearly a month since I'd seen him.
When he arrived he showed me his new bag. After going thru all of it's features, he seemed to realize he hadn't greeted me with a hug or anything, so he gripped me up in a big tight hug. It reassured me a bit that I at least wasn't going to have to worry about an occasional stray stroke. And it was nice to smell him and feel him again.
We ordered pizza, and watched Real Time on HBO ( I love Rachel Maddow!), and as we laid there watching TV, he pulled me in close beside him and had me lay my head on his shoulder as he stroked my hair. Just him reaching for me makes me melt, but when he strokes my hair I sink even further into relaxation and comfort. Still, I didn't completely allow myself to hope for too much more. I didn't dare.
When Real Time was over, I rolled on to my side, figuring we would chat some more. He took off his glasses, rolled over to face me, and nuzzled his face against my chest. His free hand came up behind my head and pulled my face down to his, and then he kissed me. And he tasted so good and his tongue filled my mouth, and it was velvety and soft, and aggresive and decisive. I didn't sense any caution in his kiss, but I was still unsure of what I should do. Nevertheless, I kissed back, with growing ardour.
His hand moved from behind my head down to my hip, and he kneaded my flesh, gripping me firmly. His knee nudged between my thighs and he pulled my leg over his hip so I was straddling him. By now our bodies were pressed tightly against each other, and the kisses were becoming more and more passionate. I don't know how to describe this all without it coming off as rushed, but even while it was happening I thought to myself how hungry we were for each other, but also that it didn't feel rushed or erratic. It was electric and exciting, but it wasn't frenzied. It was sensual.
M rolled me onto my back and settled between my legs. Kisses and kisses and more kisses. Kisses on my neck. Kisses on my collarbone. Kisses on my earlobe, and his breathe across my ear sending a thrilling shiver down my spine, making me moan out loud. And I noticed how hard I was breatheing. And we were grinding our bodies together like a couple of teenagers. That's when I realized I was already dripping wet.
We slipped off his shirt, and it was my chance to kiss along his collarbone and the tattoos I never thought I'd touch again. And his skin smelled amazing. And then my shirt came off, and he laid me back down and leaned back to look at me. He ran his hands from my shoulders down across my breasts, down my ribs and across my stomach. He leaned over me reaching for my breasts, grabbing them up in both hands, sucking on my already hard nipples.
My hands touched every exposed part of him. I dug my fingers into his shoulders, and ran my fingers up and down his back, cupping his pecs. Anywhere I could reach, anything I could grab a hold of, just to feel him.
He leaned back again, and his hands went to unbutton my jeans, and he pulled them off me. I wrapped my legs around him, but then my panties soon followed my jeans, and then his bottoms were off. Again he leaned back, and I felt his finger slide between my wet pussy lips, slipping up to my clit, then sliding back down. Up and down between my lips, and I quivered from the touch of his single finger.
He spread my thighs, wide, and he lightly kissed and licked the insides of my thighs. I felt that velvet tongue on my clit, lapping at me, and two fingers entering me. His free hand cupped my ass, and lifted me up to his mouth. I had fantasized earlier in the day about his mouth on my pussy, had been aching for it.
He climbed up from between my legs and I reached up to kiss him, licking my juices from his lips. I kissed my way down to his cock, and he moaned when I slid him into my mouth. I held his balls in my hand, and drew him deeper into my mouth. His hands were all over my body, and I couldn't take much more. I lifted my face up to him, and whispered,"Fuck me."
He pulled me on top of his lap and I wedged his cock inside of me, and slid down onto him. He remained sitting up, and I used his shoulders as leverage to work myself on top of him. Maybe because it had been nearly a month since I've fucked, or maybe because he was super hard and super thick, but I was completely stuffed. He had to keep stopping me from moving so he wouldn't cum too soon. I felt like I was going to burn up, and my cunt was involuntarily squeezing him inside of me even when I was trying to be still.
I felt none of the self conciousness I usually feel when I'm on top. I probably could have stayed up there the whole time, but I think it was too much for M. Either that or he just wanted to pound me. :D
He got me on my back, kissing my face and my neck. His hands closed around my throat and squeezed, cutting off my air. I think he got a bit distracted because I think I started to go unconcious. There was a flooding, crashing wave sound in my head. Everything was swirling, and I couldn't see. I didn't even realize it was happening until I was gasping for breathe, and I was confused where I was and what was happening. I said to M, "Wait a sec," as I caught my breathe and "came to". He cradled me close to his chest, and resumed sliding in and out of me gently, working his way back up to fucking me as hard as before.
M flipped me around onto my hands and knees and gathered my hair up into his hand as he reentered me. His left hand comes across my chest, first grabbing my breast, then clasping my right arm pressing my back against his chest. His forehead is on my left shoulder and we're both panting and moaning. I'm arching my back to get as much of him in me as possible, he lets me go and I seal my chest to the bed, grinding my ass against him like a cat in heat.
Once again he flips me onto my back, and hooks my knees over the crook of his elbows. I love this position because of how deeply he can penetrate me and the way the head of his cock butts up against that sensitive spot at the top in the back of my cunt. I have fistfuls of comforter in my hands, I'm practically hyperventilating. My head is swimming, and I can feel the wet spot growing under my ass.
Suddenly, M pulls out and brings his cock up to my face and shoves himself down my throat beginning to cum. He pulls out and jerks off into my open mouth, shuddering when my tongue wraps around the tip. I swallow everything, and we both sort of collapse his head at my feet, exhausted and gasping. I lift my head up a bit just as M does, and he reaches out for my hand to pull me to him. I get my after fuck kiss as I tuck myself into the cuddle M offers, the mingled scent of our bodies covers us like a perfume.
The sweat on our bodies hasn't even dried before M says to me, eyes closed and with a smile,"Give me a few minutes, I want to fuck you again." I giggle and snuggle in closer. It's not unusual for us to fuck multiple times in a night, but I admit I was happy to have the one time, and I was still trying to not expect too much. And I was especially pleased that he was already thinking about fucking me again.
I was smoking my after sex cigarette when I told him how my breasts were aching during the day, but that when he had grabbed them it hadn't hurt at all. I said I must have had a ton of endorphins coursing through my body. His hand creeps between my thighs and he says, "How would you like some more endorphins," and begins to pinch and toy with my clit. A bit of advice ladies, if you ever get the chance to be fingered by a bassist...take it!!! ;)
Well, of course that led to another bout of excellent fucking. And after that M took a catnap curled around me while I sat up smoking and watching the rerun of Real Time. He woke up and kissed my back, and I ran my nails across his back. M loves when I scratch his back, and he practically purrs when I do it. He murmurs that he wants to fuck again, and I have to say that really was a surprise to me. Another pleasant surprise.
So, M and I fucked again. Tho I think he was disappointed that I hadn't made my ass ready. I told him that I hadn't even been sure that he would let me touch him, nevermind fucking me, so I hadn't done much prep. I hadn't even put makeup on or done my hair, which I don't think has happened the entire time I have been with M. And I'm not even one of those girls that wears makeup every day, I wear it enough for work. But I always try to look my best for M.
After all that we were both spent. There was a little sleepy conversation before I turned out the light and rolled over to sleep. M pulled me into the curve of his body, throwing his leg over my hip. In the morning I woke up first, as is usual. He wakes up with a smile and I flatter myself that he's happy to be waking up in my bed with me. He edges over to me coaxing my arms around him. He draws me in to kiss him, but I say "No, I have morning pizza breathe. And cigarettes." He says, "My cock doesn't have a sense of smell," and I roll my eyes at him as he gives me that naughty grin of his.
We had sex once more before we run to WaWa for coffee, and M had leave early to meet up with his bandmates to travel to thier gig that night. I was pretty happy for the rest of the weekend, and I'm happy to have spent time with M. He wants to "take things slow" and I have mixed feelings about that. On the one hand it makes sense, and on the other hand it sounds like trying to walk the cat backwards.
I'm cautiosly optomistic at this point. M says he cares for me, and he says he doesn't want to be with other girls and that it just made things "complicated", and he doesn't want that. I'm inclined to agree about the desire for things to be drama free, I just hope that doesn't mean he's not taking this seriously. I guess I'll see what happens.
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