Listen to this song while you read. Watch the video too.
The number exchange. Often such a pain in the ass. But I did it that time because he was a fun dance partner. I was in a ticking time bomb of a long distance relationship. Retrospectively astute.
The floor was practically empty of the usual bumping bodies that memorable eve before Spring Break began. Everyone had packed it up and headed for warmer climates. He was leaving for home the next morning. ‘He’ was Travis McCoy. I really love old school Gym Class Heroes…fuck his “Billionaire” song. I’m talking “Make Out Club“ - still one of my theme songs. I’m actually listening to their new album (came out two days ago) and it’s pretty solid so far. Slightly less pop than The Quilt, thankfully, yet I wish it had more hip hop. But I digress.
I’m glad I got over my mind blocks of “what will he think?” when I texted Travis out of the blue and asked if he wanted to go out. I really wanted to get laid. If he insinuated that, so what? Several years later I still remember what I wore. Black sweetheart cut top and tight jeans with enough stretch to kick my black boots up above his waist. Simple attire, accompanied with killer moves.
Travis was in the army. French, black man. A bit of an accent, but not really. Built body, plus he could salsa. Sound like a catch? Nah. He was a jerk and we had close to nothing in common. I also really dislike and frequently critique the military and the military-industrial complex. This encounter definitely fell more in line with fantasy for me.
Regardless, I love that high feeling of watching everyone oggle me and the fellow spinning me around in circles before grinding up into my pelvis. The music that night was blah. But we found the beat and stuck with it. I stumbled into the washroom and stared into my eyes. Told myself, “You’re finally getting fucked.” It had been a month and a half. I was finally over Gregg Gillis, the aforementioned long distance partner. My vibrator was old hat.
He suggested we get out of there. He wanted to bring me to his place since he was catching a ride from a friend on the base in the morning. We waited in the snow for a taxi, warming up the engine with our tongues. I still remember the gorgeous, picturesque drive. And sneaking down the hall into his barracks. It was mostly deserted. His room was plain and tidy with pressed uniforms, a laptop, a sink, toothbrush, and a bunk bed.
Taking off his clothes and revealing each stage of his hard body was a treat. I didn’t want to talk to this guy, I just wanted him to fuck me. He put on some trance music, melodic, no words. Fit. Fitting.
His genitals were shaved clean like his short hair. Smooth, pushing up against my face as we 69’ed on the bed. Average length but he wanted me to tell him how big it was. I indulged him but gleaned a bunch about the composition of his ego.
It was a slick blow job, I was on bottom and he had a good angle for penetrating my mouth. I closed my eyes and let him use my tight sucking lips while his tongue pushed along my pussy lips. In my head I did this thing where I imagined the whole world like you see it in Google Earth. Then I zoomed in slowly to North America, kept on going to my country, to my region, to my city, to my house, then over to the club, then over to the army base at which I was currently enjoying oral sex.
I love doing that mental exercise, it gives me perspective. I always get this crazy surge. In this case I stopped receiving his cock and started sucking him off wildly. Surprised, his body jerked around. He came.
I was mad at myself. It was only 2am! What were we going to do now? We relaxed with a bit of space between our bodies for a half hour and listened to the music. Made idle chit chat. I wished we hadn’t left the club so early. Then, without warning, an erection joined our boring company. A condom was quickly donned and his hard cock was shoved inside my still-wet pussy.
His tough hands held onto the top bunk bed frame. The leverage was intense. My toes clutched the metal and my muscles tensed as he jack hammered me. I don’t use that term lightly. I mean jack hammered. He rode me with a machine-like precision. With a steady, crazy-fast pace he almost completely withdrew every time and then filled me up again. This did not cause him to orgasm. No, this was normal fucking for him.
In my mind I wondered what would happen if someone walked in on us. Would he pull out, leap into regimented position, and salute the person barging in on us with his dick shrinking before all of our eyes? Would I nervously pull a sheet over my body
…or would I crawl out of the bunk and stand up slowly, showing off my curves? Would the intruder’s eyes be on Travis or on me, or maybe both? Could we convince him to let Travis off the hook if we let him touch me? Fuck me from behind while Travis watched? Would it escalate from there? An imaginary threesome was not far off for me.
It was challenging to be quiet with this fantasy being played over top of my reality, but I had to given that I wasn’t supposed to be there. I felt raw and tired but he continued enjoying my cunt. We barely kissed. There was barely any neck licking, ear arousing, collar bone nibbling fun. It was the good fuck I wanted and deserved.
He scooped up my ass in his palms, cock still lodged inside, and pushed me up against the bare wall. My long legs were wrapped around his core as he dug into me. Shorter strokes, but just as hard. He grunted and panted as I used kegels to reciprocate. One arm around his neck, one hand holding a metal bar sticking out of the wall. I’m not a small person so no one thus far has been able to continue in this position for as long as Travis did. Points for sustained effort.
I forget how he finally came. But I know that when it happened I had been attempting to induce it for a very long time. Why? Well, it was almost 5 o’clock in the fucking morning and he had been driving into me for three straight hours! We had changed condoms twice. I was turned on, but exhausted. I blame the endurance training.
It all began with a reply to his fake but clearly desirous craigslist ad. The subject line of the post was, “Which Radiohead Album is the Best for Boning?”
“Hey person from [city] I happen to know who is into Radiohead,
I’m not going to lie. I’m intrigued.”
The ignition had been turned long ago. We were horny teenage friends who saw each other a few times a year since the age of fourteen or something like that. Nothing had happened back then. In our early college years, we organized a reunion for our group of friends in New York City. Prior to this occurring, the fellow I’ll call Andrew Bird (song here) and I started chatting more frequently in anticipation of hanging out again. Our innocent inside jokes about Radiohead, a mutual favourite, prompted that straight-up answer to its craigslist manifestation.
So we agreed to have sex when we saw each other, in so many words. As we flounced around the center of the universe with our other friends, Andrew and I shared discrete moments of hand holding, ass pinching, and knowing looks. No one knew about our pre-planned tryst.
Name of Album: In Rainbows
Tracks Listened to: I believe the sex occurred between tracks one and six or seven. I do remember that we only made it through half of the album, which was a result of foreplay without music.
Best Track: “Bodysnatchers”
Worst Track: “Faust Arp”
One night toward the end of the week he covertly arranged to stay at the same friend’s place as I was staying. When everyone had finally gone to sleep at 4am, we both tip toed out of the squeaky NYU dorm room into the hallway. Our lips met for the first time against the wall. A lot of tongue entered my mouth at once as we squeezed each other’s bodies and made out fervently. I pushed his huge curly dark brown fro-hair out of the way as it tried to join in on the fun.
Grasped hands pulled down the floursecently lit hall as we explored the floor. Finally, the common room. Single brown isolated desks along the walls. A shitty loveseat that we dragged closer to an outlet so we could plug in his laptop. I straddled him in the cold room, winter air chilling my hot and bothered body. He removed my pajamas slowly, taking hold of my erect nipples with his fingertips. Pulling, twisting, face engulfing, leaning my head back with a frustrated sigh. The build up had been difficult to endure. I wanted to know what his penis looked like. I needed to know. I needed it between my lips.
I stripped him of the plaid cotton layer. Hardened, circumcised like a good Jewish man, long like his 6’3” body mirrored, and desiring to be pleased. I smiled and let him know I was satisfied with the answer to my mystery by sucking on his cockhead. My throat opened to take more of him. His size increased with the heavy arousal I was laying on him. I licked my palms and gently rolled his sack between them. Andrew’s face became trance-like, almost boyish. Mouth half open, emitting soft grunts into the unsuspecting room.
I lifted my face up and motioned for him to turn on the music.
Please rate the following qualities on a scale of 1-10 (1 being the most negative effect on the sexperience, 10 the most positive, and 5 neutral)—-
Lyrical Content: 7
Cohesiveness of Song Progression: 7
Musical Progression (i.e. Crescendos): 8
Overall Effect of the Album: 7.4
He retrieved a condom that read “NYC sex” in bright colours. When his girth entered me to the quick pace of “15 Steps,” I entered a similar trance. Powerful thrusting sent my nerve endings into a frenzy. I tried to keep my voice down, but having his tall-skinny frame pounding me, knees bent on the scratchy sofa made me reel. More force was added and my voice squealed what my cunt couldn’t…the feeling of being relentlessly taken. Of having our plan work. And of glancing out the big window and seeing the pastels of the morning begin reaching over the Manhattan skyline.
I sat him upright on the couch and lowered myself onto his structure. Now he could see the city behind my bouncing breasts and smooth belly. I rose and fell with the crescendos in “All I Need.” He rubbed my clitoris while I grinded into his pelvis, drawing deep circles with my hips so he could feel all of my inside edges. Fluid pooled around his base as we brought me to orgasm. I fell forward onto his chest and rested my hands around his neck, his tight lips reaching.
Sunlight was beginning to filter through the buildings. He turned me around and sunk his whole shaft between my legs. I rammed my ass backward into him, us both thrusting smoothly yet animalistically to “Reckoner.” I shoved the probably nasty throw pillow against my face to quiet my echoing noises.
The muffled sounds synced with his boning like my cervix was a volume dial. His steady rhythm climaxed and he burst, grabbing hold of my body as we caved forward. His panting subsided and he stroked my hair while lying on top of me. He held me close and kept me warm as we watched the sun ascend.
How sad would Thom Yorke be if he saw what you did during this album?
Possibly disturbed, I suppose. Perhaps with some reasoning he would understand why fucking to his music was pretty much necessary in this situation. Probably nonetheless happy because of how the sun was rising in the background. Might have inspired him to write a song.
What did you like about your sexperience with this album?
I liked how it was easy to reignite with “15 Steps” right off the bat. As indicated in the above numbers, the musical progression also made it sexcellent. Oh, and the sex was good too, ya know. :P
What didn’t you like?
I didn’t like that the music wasn’t very loud (though that was obviously out of necessity). This made it more difficult to merge and connect the sex with the Radiohead. Also, I didn’t like how we didn’t get a chance to finish the album, particularly missing “Jigsaw Falling Into Place.”
Any other comments?
This album might deserve another review at a later date.
Listen to this particularly relevant song while you read.
Earlier that day, I had promised him a shoulder massage. His sweet complaint inspired me to offer. I knew they were sore from holding me as we slept intertwined together the last two nights.
I’ve been seeing who I’ll call Nate Ruess of The Format and Fun. for the last three weeks; we met through okcupid. I was wearing a matching bright purple lacy bra and thong that day. Nate had watched me enjoy putting on my ensemble in the late morning before we went out to brunch. He was reclined on the futon, having been ready to go for the last fifteen minutes but delighting in viewing my morning routine. With me parading around in boner-inducing lingerie of course.
Later, he unbuttoned my black patterned dress with puffy sleeves and noticeable cleavage as I swiveled in my desk chair. He kissed along my stomach, teased my protruding clit through the transparent fabric. I let out a soft moan, egging him on. He pulled back, smiled up at me and met my eyes. Those sexy, light brown eyes that bring out the darker shades in his tan skin. That tell me blatantly he wants to penetrate me, but is choosing to play my game instead.
He got up off his knees and grinned as I reached for his body. He was wearing only the grey-blue vest with gold buttons that he had bought earlier at a thrift store and his dark wash jeans. Bits of curly black hair ensconced the centre of his otherwise smooth chest. Coyly, “Aren’t you supposed to be yelping a place for us to order delivery?”
“I was, but you’ve been distracting me!”
“But it’s so fun, and it’s so hard not to when you’re looking so delicious right in front of me…”
He leaned down to kiss my neck. I pushed him off with a “fine, fine, if you want food so bad then you’ll have to wait on having me.”
We ended up agreeing that he could have me after our deep dish pizza arrived. When the pizza came I tossed on my new Goodwill purchase - a recycled fur coat for the playa. I opened the front door wearing only the coat and aforementioned purple lingerie before the attractive delivery guy’s eyes. He stuttered out our total, “That’ll be $21.97.” Nate came up behind me with the cash. The delivery guy respectfully looked away, or at least he tried while a horny-looking smile played on his lips as he regained his confidence. Nate laughed with me after I closed the door.
An old roommate struggled for the right description as we entered the kitchen, Nate in his silky vest and me in my sexy fur. Ten minutes later he knocked on my door. “I thought of it! You both look so F. Scott Fitzgerald-ian, you know, like The Great Gatsby-ian.”
After fully digesting several slices, I pulled Nate out of our cuddle. I turned him onto his stomach and told him to relax his neck. My hands began pressing into his now shirtless back.
“Have you listened to the new Bon Iver album yet?”
“No, but I’ve been meaning to.”
Still straddling him, I started the album. We both immediately melted into the beautiful instrumental opening. I let my giving gestures sync with the snare drums in “Perth.” Straddling him, my pelvis sunk into his lower back and pushed down for emphasis. His breath was deep, his eyes shut, as my palms caressed his thin but noticeably muscular body.
By “Holocene” the pressured kneading into his shoulders had transformed into symmetrical tracings all around the canvas of his back. The intimate energy connecting the tips of my fingers with his flesh cascaded over me, sending barely controllable shivers down my spine. I then took that high feeling and let the pads of my fingers slip away, slowly, one by one, until only my nails skimmed the patterns.
He reacted intensely. His body spasmed. His sides shuddered. A low, small groan complemented the refrain of “Towers.” One nail would become three and then three on two hands. Nate tried to reach back to touch me, but I kept him in the space of receiving my spell.
I slowly grinded into him again. My hands massaged his shoulders as I leaned down, breathing heavy into his ear. A light flick of my tongue to the outside, then a longer drag across his lobe. He trembled with erotic intention, allowing me to continue slowly seducing his ear. When his arousal reached an impassable apex, he turned his curly dark-haired head up and kissed me deeply.
From underneath, he removed my bra and slid off my panties. He felt me up and down, grasping my breasts with a slowed urgency, the serene song “Wash.” keeping his pace. He moved below me and kissed my opening. I let him carefully weave his tongue through my folds until I couldn’t take it any more. The music was building and my impulse was unstoppable.
With echoing voices surrounding me, my hand pressed Nate’s face against me, hard. He slipped an additional finger inside and inhaled my pussy fervently. I pushed him even harder and the whelm of “Calgary” escalated my need to come.
“So it’s storming on the lake, little waves our bodies break.”
Surging, I rocked my hips back and forth into his mouth. Mounting, I couldn’t contain my moans as they cascaded like an overlay intended to be a part of that song. Releasing, I gasped and let everything flow around his fingers buried inside of me. I collapsed. A couple of wet tears escaped the corners of my eyes. He kissed me.
…His cock was trying to escape, so I stroked him while he grazed his teeth against my tits. Then he pushed me down and smiled, “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget.”
I learned really, really quickly that Ben was the kind of guy who closed his eyes while slowly sucking your juices off each finger after he’s done tongue-fucking you. I hadn’t had one of those in a while, and it was even hotter because he’s only the second guy I’ve been with who is younger than me. He was so eager, in retrospect quite endearing.
But at the time I was just gasping for breath as I moaned because he was seriously enjoying himself that much. My eyes usually stay closed since my head naturally rolls back when I have someone’s tongue between my legs, but I glanced down a few times and enjoyed the sight of his eyes shut, drinking in my come as it flowed out after each building orgasm.
Finally after bucking my hips up high a few times in a row from writhing, I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up next to me. “I need to fuck you now.” He nodded with a quick smile, I found the right condom. He fumbled with it so I took over and rolled it on, I couldn’t wait any longer. I climbed and slid down on his upright cock…I nearly screamed. I sat my ass down and swung my hips slowly around, letting him fill me up. Once I felt like I knew his angles, I slowly pulled my pussy up over each inch of his cock…and then slammed down, fucking hard. He reacted with a huge moan and I pumped my body on him, increasing speed until I was literally vibrating. I can only imagine his tipsy state of mind, lights on and me letting out a mass of pent-up energy all over him. I grunted and groaned as my slit expanded and worked through orgasm after orgasm.
After a long time, he finally wanted a go so he rolled me over and pushed inside as far as he could, staying there for about fifteen seconds while slowly rotating his hips. My head was hanging off the end of the bed and when he plowed into me I almost fell off backwards! Woah there!
With his feet against the headboard he picked up speed. Presumably because of his tipsy state, his rhythm was not very constant…but I figured out how to enjoy the unpredictability factor. We needed to work on the height difference because it was challenging to mesh when he took charge. When he turned my body around with my head on the pillow and did me with my ankles at his ears, we clicked. He brought me to orgasm after ten or fifteen minutes. It was my turn again.
I climbed back on top of him and he blurted, “Holy shit, you’re so fucking hot.” I rode him and could tell he was getting close to coming. As I slowed down after a particularly good orgasm he asked, “Can we do doggy style? I really want to take you from behind.” I declined because I was at the end of my period and thus felt a little drier and more raw than usual. But I added, “We’ll definitely do that next time though.” “So there’s going to be a next time, eh?” he retorted coyly.
I laughed, still riding him, and said, “Well I’m having a good time so I think there will be.” His eyes rolled back into his head as he said, “Hell yeah,” grabbed my waist, and pushed my hips down harder.
After about an hour and a half of this, he still hadn’t come. He was close several times, but I was getting pretty exhausted. We mutually masturbated and after I achieved yet another orgasm, he just said, “Gaahhh I give up!” Poor Ben, but hey we tried.
We fell asleep after that. Well I did at least. He had a hard time falling asleep with his hard-on. Come morning, I felt him kiss the back of my neck and rolled over into his arms and noticed his waiting shaft. He clearly needed to explode, so I sleepily moved down and took his cock in my mouth. I deep throated him past my gag reflex and swirled my tongue up and down while bobbing steadily. I wanted it to be quick, so I swirled and sucked his balls into a frenzy while he jacked himself off. After five minutes of this double effort, he suddenly slowed down and a heavy stream of hot come spread out all over his chest and my neck as I leaned up to catch some of it. It was one of the biggest loads I’ve ever seen. He sighed deeply and moved to clean it up right away. I told him to just enjoy it for a minute. He smiled and closed his eyes while I massaged his upper thigh.
All pretty excellent, right?
Well, the part of the story that you just read was actually written a few days after Ben and I fucked. Details in tact, excitement of the experience preserved, but the kicker still yet to come chronologically.
Ben started acting clingy after this encounter, you know with the annoying pointless texting, facebook chatting, all the things I can’t stand. He wanted to date me, I just wanted a consistent fuck buddy who could respect my busy schedule.
A week later I was quite blazed at a friend’s house, cuddling and catching up. One of Ben’s and my mutual friends came home, who I hadn’t seen since the sex had been accomplished. So I tell her, “Guess what, Ben and I had sex!”
She said, “I know! Did he talk to you?!”
“You know, did he tell you…?”
“I’m super duper stoned so you’re going to have to spell it out for me, hon.”
“Oh my god!! He didn’t tell you!?! FUCK!”
“Tell me what?! What, what, what?”
…Did I expect this?
No, both at that moment and retrospectively, I did not.
“Ben was a virgin until you.”
Cue incredulous, confused, baked expression.
Then lots of “nooooooooooooo’s” and “really?!’s.” And then obscene amounts of laughter. Go ahead, laugh. It’s pretty fucking funny.
So here’s a tried-and-true tip for all you nerdy virgin guys who just want to get your first time out of the way: tell the hot experienced girl that you’ve been drinking and she’ll assign all the signals indicating inexperience (which retrospectively are really fucking obvious) to being tipsy.
Signals such as…not being able to put the condom on right. Not spending a lot of time actively fucking her even though you acted like you wanted to. Putting your cock and body in at weird angles that don’t work or make sense. Not knowing where your feet should go or how to pump fast. Lucky for Ben, instead of popping in two minutes he couldn’t even come the first time. Perhaps some viagra was involved?
Or better yet, aforementioned virgin audience, just be honest with your partner and you can hopefully work something out, especially if they’re already attracted to you.
However, I was presented with an ethical dilemma. Do I tell him I know, have a serious discussion about it, and continue fucking him because he was actually pretty good? Or do I pretend to have never known and brush him off until he leaves me alone because I can’t keep a secret like that? Well first I did what any sensible woman does. I consulted my male friends. The jury was actually unanimous. If you have a strong opinion I’d be curious to hear it in the comments.
I let him believe he was a rockstar in bed his first time and that he got away with me not knowing so that he can have a relatively normal sexual future. I ignored him and felt like a total bitch doing it because from his perspective there was no logical reason for it. At one point I felt kind of bad so I acquiesced to a quick study break because he “needed to talk to me.” I thought, okay, maybe he wants to tell me what happened from his perspective and it will be worth my time.
Nope, he wanted to date me. Woops, sorry buddy! I told him the truth - I’m polyamorous and casually fuck multiple people, of which I had informed him on my birthday but perhaps he was too drunk to remember. That was not so appealing to him. I had no desire to repeat the boy I lost my virginity to, actually a fairly similar type of guy (who you’ll meet at some point, in time). So long, farewell, please text me no more.
I only hope that he actually consented to the sex and that I didn’t unknowingly take advantage of him/steal his virginity. I’m fairly confident that I did not. However, I’m definitely not a very “special” person, such as the one you’ve been waiting so long for to have pop your cherry. It seems that wasn’t his particular fantasy. In any case, he definitely had an epic first time.
Simple conclusion: I definitely fucked a virgin without knowing he was a virgin. I was his first; he’s one of my favourite stories. Smart kid with a great cock, I’ll give him that.
Now all you want to know is how to go? Have you tasted blood and you want more (more, more, more!)? [points for reference]
Listen to this song while you read.
I met the similarly attractive fellow I’ll call Ben Kweller (classic song by him here - lyrics include “sex reminds her of eating spaghetti”) on my birthday last year at an electronic dance music event. I noticed him at the coat check, tall lean red head in a white v-neck tee, complete with a scruffy beard and glasses. Nerdy, computer science major. Turned out we had mutual friends as tends to be unavoidable in a small town.
My night was weird in many ways…I freaked out about getting older while sitting in a washroom stall on MDMA that I probably shouldn’t have taken in the first place. I narrated my entire life back to myself, from birth to present moment. Try it sometime. I called some friends, eventually came to some positive conclusions after getting my crazy out. Emerged at 11:50pm, cheered for myself at midnight. The psuedo-famous DJ told me happy birthday, so that was pretty awesome. Shortly after I started grinding with Ben, who was meek but cute just like Ben Kweller strokes my crush on those types I desire to corrupt.
He wasn’t a particularly good dancer. Normally that means I would have brushed him off already. But his hands roamed at the right times to the right places. He asked if I wanted to get out of there and I told him straight out that I would love to, but I had started my period that afternoon so it would be a no-go. He looked disappointed, I felt kind of bad…but who cares, it was my birthday. I was the one unable to get laid on my fucking birthday. A half hour later he approached the topic again and told me that he didn’t care, we could just have some fun anyway. I liked that answer and we peaced to my apartment in the pouring rain.
Since I was on MDMA we talked for a while, my mind was cycling so fast. Then he put his juicy lips on mine and I was quickly wrapped around his body. He pulled off my shirt and took my breasts in his hands, kneading them with obvious and boyish excitement. He leaned me back on the couch and let his tongue do the talking, taking me along with him. He was perceptive despite intoxication as he pinched and flicked my nipples, a surefire way to make me gasp.
He took my jeans off and almost my underwear too, but I gently reminded him to leave those on. I love being naked in front of a man I just met. I love watching his reactions to my body…the first time he grabs onto my ass and his dick visibly hardens. The first time he kisses my chest and realizes how soft my skin is. The first time he pushes his body against my naked flesh and his eyes close hazily. It was so hot and I kept on pushing him to touch me more until I got frustrated enough to drag him into the bedroom.
Unbuckled and unzipped, I was satisfied. Larger than average, clearly not going to give me the same frustrations I had with the last man in my bed (cough Kevin Baird cough). But we couldn’t that night so we grinded and humped and squirmed and sighed about how he couldn’t plow into me. I told him teasingly that since he couldn’t reciprocate, I wasn’t sure if I was willing to blow him. He grabbed my shoulder, looked straight at me, and said with candid tone, “What if I promise that I owe you one next time?” It was too well played to turn down.
I tongued up his shaft, lubricating my way to the head. Then my mouth darted to his balls, rolling around his sack while imagining how they would slap against my ass if he were doing me doggy style right now. I wanted him to penetrate me so badly, so I focused my energy back on his dick and swallowed him over and over again, pretending my throat was the back of my pussy. He moaned and writhed, which pushed me to go further. After much effort, I told him I was done for now and he pulled my body up next to his. I like to keep control.
We went back at it again shortly after, needing a round two of foreplay to feel full. He left around 4am, I laughed at how I gave a blowjob on my birthday instead of receiving. Typical me. At least I got free drinks and cookies the next day.
All week my brain was a scrolling marquee: sex sex sex sex sex. I had to write this super theoretical essay that week and couldn’t keep my head in the game. He sent a nice text on Thursday asking how my work was going. That honestly didn’t help. Finally Saturday rolled around, he was going to call me when he was done edward fortyhands at a party across the street (ohhh university…). Around 11:30pm I decided to trim up and take a long shower. I keep my waterproof vibrator in the shower at all times for easy access, but I stopped myself from using it anywhere besides my nipples. He had called while I was mentally torturing myself. He sounded really relieved when I beckoned him over.
He entered, took off his jacket and hoodie, wearing no shirt underneath. We talked for a long time, normally if I’m horny there’s no way I can wait that long. He didn’t show it, but he said he felt pretty damn drunk so I wanted to give him some time to sober up so we’d be on the same level. He really couldn’t stand it since I was only wearing a revealing slip. I love teasing, so I had fun while I waited it out…stretching my smooth legs out on the coffee table, allowing the bottom half of my ass to be exposed when I got up off the couch for water. My pussy moistened instantly when it finally landed on the bulge in his jeans.
We tossed around making out and I pulled off the thin layer. He’s 6’3” and easily lifted me up, placing me down on the bed before practically jumping for my tits. As he roughly handled each one, I slid off his pants. Black boxer-briefs, classic! His cock was trying to escape, so I stroked him while he grazed his teeth against my tits. Then he pushed me down and smiled, “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget.”
Stay tuned for part II!