Thursday, April 21, 2011

Unexpected


It started out like any other seduction.  We lay in bed together after a long day of life.  I was curled up on my side, and he scooted up behind me.  He traced the silhouette of my body, running his fingers from the nape of my neck to my lower thigh.  I sighed.  He always makes my body feel so good.  It was relaxing and pleasurable.  But I was so tired that night.  Sex didn’t sound like the worst idea, but I wasn’t really up for anything fancy.  I love being that intimate with him, but I didn’t want to cum; I didn’t want to spend lots of time exploring.  

But he kept running his fingers down my back and over my ass.  He whispered in my ear “you have a great ass, you know?”  I smiled, flattered that he still found me that attractive.  I never really thought much about my ass.  It wasn’t flat; it wasn’t huge.  So I didn’t really care.  But every time he ran his hand over it, I couldn’t help but thinking that it felt really, really good.  After several more trips down the length of my back, he truncated his movements, gliding his fingers from the top of my cheeks to the bottom.  He cupped each side, remarking “Fuck” as he did.  I revel in the sound of his voice when he is turned on.  It turns me on.  It makes me feel good about me.

His interest grew and he began to run his finger ever-so-lightly over my crack.  He traced from the top to the bottom.  I let out a surprised moan.  God that felt good.  It was intense and almost ticklish.  But I didn’t want him to stop.  

He put his mouth close to my ear and lustfully whispered, “Do you like that?”
 
I bit my lower lip and managed a, “mmmhmmm, yeah.”  

“Yeah?” he clarified.  

“That feels so good.  I’ve never had anyone do that before,” I replied.  

“Do you want me to go on?” he asked, hopeful.  

“Uh-huh.  Yeah,” I responded tentatively.  I had never really thought about deriving pleasure from this sort of activity.  Ok.  No.  That is a lie.  I think about everything.  But when I thought about it I figured my partner might find it gross, and I didn’t blame him.  So I didn’t let my curiosity run on this subject.  

But my current partner, well, I trusted him.  He was accepting and giving.  And he seemed to be really enjoying this, so I decided to give him and myself the permission to be curious.

He continued to slide his finger over my crack, but after awhile, he didn’t remain solely on the surface.  He pushed his finger in further, just slightly.  I moaned, again surprised at this new sensation.  After a few more seconds of exploration, he removed his finger and scooted his body closer to mine.  As he got closer, I could feel his hard cock pressing into my lower back.  

“Wow, you are really fucking hard.  I didn’t know this would turn you on that much,” I said.

“Are your really that surprised?  You have a great ass.  What can I say?”  He said.  I could hear the smile in his voice.

I could feel his hips start to move his cock from my lower back to my ass.  He spread my cheeks carefully, and positioned his head between them.

“Is that ok?” he checked.

“Yeah,” I responded.

He placed his hand on my hip, using it as leverage to press his body into me and to pull away.  It felt so good to have his hard cock near me like that.  He kissed the back of my neck as he continued to slowly thrust his head into my backside.  His warm breath sent tingles down my spine that collided with the tingles being sent from his thrusts.

Again, he whispered, “would you mind if I went down on you?”

“Sure, I always like that,” I noted.

“No.  Can I rim you?” he added, tentatively.

“Are you sure you want to?” I asked, tentatively.

“Yes,” he responded with a small laugh, “I really want to.”

“Ok,” I acquiesced.

He moved down my body, kissing along my spine as he went.  He pushed me onto my stomach, crawled in between my legs, and scooted down.  I love it when he just does whatever he wants to me.  He kissed my cheeks until he met the top of my thighs.  He took his hands and spread me open.  Testing the waters, he moved his tongue in small circles around my opening.  I moaned loudly.  I didn’t expect it to feel that good.  But, fuck, it felt that good.

He paused, “Is that ok?”

“Um, yeah, more than ok.  God. Fuck, um, you can go on.” I said, nearly speechless.  “So much for not wanting to experiment tonight.  Or for not wanting to cum,” I thought.

Spreading me open again, he resumed swirling his tongue around my ass.  His licking mirrored my moans.  As my moans increased in volume and frequency, his licking intensified.  He licked harder and deeper, moaning himself as he did.  Fuck, this feels amazing, and it really seems to be turning him on.
 
When it seemed my screaming couldn’t get any louder, he slowed his pace and gently retreated.  Wiping his mouth, he slid back up next to my body.

“What did you think?” he asked coyly.

“Yeah, you can do that again.  Wow.  So fucking good.  I mean, it felt so good.” I managed.

“Good.  It felt pretty fucking good to me, too.  Really hot.” He added.

With a tone that implies I-want-to-ask-you-something-but-I-am-not-sure-you-will-agree-and-I-really-want-you-to-agree he asked, “How do you feel about going further?”

“Further?” I questioned.  I knew what he was getting at, but I enjoyed watching him bashfully ask.

“Well, how do you feel about having anal sex?” he finally inquired.

“Um, nervous I guess, but I am certainly willing to try.  How do we go about doing this?” I had never had anal sex before, but I enjoyed having new experiences with him.  And if anal sex felt anywhere as good as the foreplay, I was on board.  

“I imagine we will need lube.  Grab the bottle in the drawer,” he directed.

I reached for the side table, located the bottle, and opened the cap.  He ran to get a towel.  When he returned I could see this giddy look on his face.  We both were a little surprised this was happening.

“I think it would be best if I got you used to, well, probing.  I’ll use my fingers.” 

“Ok.”  I continued to lie on my side, but I shifted my top leg forward to give him better access.  He lubed up two of his fingers and spread me open again.  Feeling for my opening, he gently circled my ass.  Then he slowly pushed one finger into me.  I gasped.  Oh, fuck, wow.  All these nerve endings I never knew about.  It felt good.  Really good.  But different.

He checked in, “are you ok?”

“Yeah.  It feels good.”

He continued to probe me, pushing his finger in further, then pulling it out.  He added more lube and repeated the motion.  

“I am going to stick in two now, ok?”

“Ok.”

I could feel his fingers positioning their entry.  Then, carefully, he slid them deep inside me.  Fuck.  Oh, fuck.  All I could think about now was how I wanted to feel his cock in my ass.  I wanted him to fuck me.  I wanted to feel his girth sliding in and out of me, to feel how tight it all was.

I decided to direct him, “That feels amazing, but I really want your cock in my ass.”  I turned around, grabbed the lube, poured some into my hand and grabbed his hard cock.  I stroked him up and down, covering every inch that I wanted sliding into me.  He threw this head back, let out a long breath and muttered, “oh god…”

“Fuck that feels so good.  But I want to fuck your ass, now,” he said.

“Yeah?” I asked, knowing full well the answer.  I continued to stroke his hard cock, watching his face, listening to his moans.  I leaned over and kissed his perfect lips.  Deciding I had tortured him enough, I told him to stand at the edge of the bed.

He stood up and I backed my body up to the edge of the bed.  I handed him the lube, just in case, and positioned myself to give him full access.  He placed his hands on the side of my hips and moved his hips forward.  I could feel his cock sliding up the length of my pussy and between my cheeks.  

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I offered.  I was not sure what was going to happen but I wanted it.

He grabbed his cock and pressed it to my opening.  I could feel his head throbbing.  He moved forward slowly and I felt him enter me.  Fuck, that is so tight.  He slid in further and further, slowly, until he was deep inside me.

“Is that ok?” he checked.

“Yeah, I like it.  Just go slowly.”

“Your ass is so tight.  Fuck, it feel so good around my cock, “ he said.

Gripping my hips, he moved his cock in and out of my ass in long, fluid motions.  He moaned and swore.  I could tell how much this was turning him on.  It was turning me on, too.  His hard cock, throbbing.  I could feel every inch of him moving in and out of me.  I was surprised at just how sensitive everything was.  I loved how he filled me.  And I decided I wanted to know how it felt to cum while he was fucking my ass.

I put my fingers on my clit and noticed just how wet I was.  I slid my fingers around and then focused them.  I rubbed gently.  I knew it wouldn’t take that much for me to cum.  Between how turned on I was and the miraculous sensations stemming from him fucking me in the ass, it seemed only inevitable.  I kept rubbing and he kept thrusting.  I could feel myself get closer and apparently he could, too.

“Yeah…let me feel you cum,” I heard him say behind me.  I rubbed harder, focusing on his cock sliding in and out of my ass.  I felt myself get closer and closer until I jumped off that perfect edge.  I could feel myself contracting and I could hear him moan, “Fuck, god, I can even feel you cum like this.”  It felt so fucking good having him riding my ass as I came.

After basking for a minute, I decided I wanted to know if we could go faster.  

“Put on more lube,” I directed.

“Ok, sure, what do you have in mind,” he replied.

“I want you to fuck my ass hard and fast.  I’ll let you know if I need you to stop.  If I don’t say it’s too much, feel free to go on.”

“Alright.”

He grabbed the lube, and stroked it up and down his cock.  He slid back in and thrust hard.  “Yeah…mmm” I screamed.  He moved in and out getting harder and faster.  I could feel his hips smashing into my ass.  It felt so fucking good. I was still surprised I could take it that hard and fast.  But I could and it felt amazing.

“God your cock feels so good in me.”

“You like getting fucked in the ass, then?

“Yeah.  And I like it slower and faster, harder and softer.”

“But you want it hard and fast now?”

“Yeah.  Hard and fast until you get close.  Then slow down.  I want to feel you cum.”

“Can I cum in you?”

“Always.”

He continued to fuck my ass hard and fast, moaning and shaking.  I knew he loved this.  I loved this, too.  My only regret was that I couldn’t grab his body; I couldn’t kiss him hard.  Each thrust riddled me with pleasure.  I know I was screaming and cursing but I still felt like there was no way to fully express how intense and good it all felt.  Every moan was inadequate.  I wanted to tear the world apart.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, I could feel his thrusts slowing.  He moved in and out of my ass carefully, deliberately, pulling his cock nearly out and pushing it back in as deep as he could.

“Are you close?” I asked.

“Yeah…fuck…”

“Yeah…I want to feel you cum…”

I could feel his body shaking behind me, I could feel his cock get even harder and his head swell inside me.  His moans got louder and louder until he was squeezing my hips so hard.  He thrust one last time and slammed his hips into mine.  I could feel his cock spasm and hear him scream and pant.  

“Holy fuck…” he stammered, “that was fucking amazing.

“Fucking amazing…” I replied, still in disbelief.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Back Of The Bus

Jack dropped into the furthest back seat on the school bus. He chose this seat not because the cool kids sat in the back of the bus, although they did, but because he was unfortunate enough to be the first stop the bus made in the morning. He was certainly not in the category of "cool kids". He learned early on that if he sat toward the front, most of the kids would taunt him as they walked by, their backpacks "accidentally" hitting him in the face. If he sat in the furthest back, he was just ignored, which suited him fine. They never wanted to sit all the way in the back so he had a little bit of solitude, at least.

As more kids boarded the bus at subsequent stops, he closed his eyes and leaned back, his mind drifting. He thought briefly about an upcoming school project but that bored him. His mind eventually settled on one of his favorite topics: girls. Which one he liked, which ones he had a chance with. Despite the former being a very large pool, the second was minuscule and thus there was no overlap.

He was startled from his reverie by someone sitting down next to him. He figured it was one of the seniors who came back to pick on the scrawny junior. Bracing, he opened his eyes and prepared for a witty retort. To his surprise, he saw April, staring at the back of the seat in front of them. He had several conversations with her over the last several month since she had started high school as a sophomore. He recalled them as long deep conversations where they shared intimate details of their lives, their hopes and dreams. Deep down he knew they were idle conversation that ready into way too much. He viewed her as a friend, although being as unpopular as he was, Jack tended to consider other people friends long before they reciprocated. She turned her head and looked into his eyes. She looked like she was wanted to say something but was having a difficult time starting. Jack frequently had the same problem, especially with pretty girls.

And April was pretty, albeit maybe not in a typical sense. She had tight black curls and she never seemed to know what to do with them. It was also easy to stare at the large freckle on her lower lip, or the way her cheekbones were a little too round to be traditionally beautiful. But she had beautiful brown eyes, full soft (or so he imagined) lips, a smattering of freckles on her small nose and a quick and delightful smile. She had an average frame - not the stick thin that most guys seemed to lust after, but certainly not fat - with small but toned muscles and nice breasts that fit her frame. He tried his best not to let his gaze drift downward, but failed. Being so cold out, everyone was wearing heavy jackets, so he gazed at where he assumed her breasts were, had they not been buried under a heavy winter coat and a thick sweater. It didn't really matter since he had stared at them several times through a white t-shirt and that still didn't get him any closer to knowing what they looked or - sigh - felt like.

"Jack, you like me, yeah?"

His head snapped up to look at her face and he realized she had caught him staring at her, well, upper torso somewhere. He flushed slightly, and seeing his reaction, her eyes twinkled in amusement. Her mouth, however, did not twitch, and she was biting on her lower lip, seemingly nervous about the response to the question she just asked. He stammered at first, not immediately recognizing it as a question by her flat tone.

"Um, uh, yeah. I do." he mumbled in response. Then, a little more clearly and (hopefully) convincingly, "Yes." He wasn't really sure what to say; she asked him a yes-or-no question and she seemed like she had more to say but was hoping he'd ask some sort of follow-up question to help her out. His mind raced trying to think of something else to say.

Before he could think of something, she sighed lightly and tightened her lips in what seemed like resolve or maybe resignation. She then flashed a smile and said "I need your help with something."

"Uh, of course. Anything." He really had no idea what she was going to ask. "What do you need me to do?"

"Just relax. Act natural." She quickly looked around and then, looking down, she reached out her hands to his crotch. He flinched when she made contact with the fabric and put his hands on hers to push them aside. She looked up at his face as he did the same, and she gave a reassuring smile and repeated "Just relax. Act natural."

He took a ragged breath and looked around. He wasn't sure if he was hoping no one was looking or if he had witnesses. He then felt her hands rubbing over his jean zipper, and was sure she could feel his hard cock underneath. It had been that way since she sat down. The zip of his zipper pulled his focus back down and he saw her reach one hand into his underwear (why tighty whiteys today?) and grab his penis. He struggled not to make a noise while he felt the first hand on his cock that wasn't his. It was slightly cold, but soft and firm. She used her other hand to pull down the waistband and expose his cock to the open air. She had her hand wrapped around the shaft and was staring at it as if she'd never seen one before. She slowly ran her fingers over the skin of the shaft and then over the head before wrapping her fingers around the shaft. After a moment of the sensation of having it just being held, she squeezed it a little tighter and started to stroke his erection. It was similar in technique to how Jack masturbated, but at the same time felt nothing like he had ever felt before.

Jack suddenly sensed she was looking at his eyes and not his cock. He looked up at her and met her gaze. She again flashed a quick smile and said "Its okay. Just relax." Despite himself, he gave her a small smile in return. He wasn't entirely sure how we was supposed to relax, with a pretty girl stroking his cock in plain view on the back of the bus, but he certainly didn't want her to stop. If anyone peeked over the seat, they could see what was happening. In fact, he had a sense there were several girls a few rows up that kept glancing back, although given the angle he wasn't sure they could see anything. Well, maybe his surprise and subdued panic. He suddenly had a flash that this was some kind of practical joke. He wasn't sure what the plan was, but just when he was about to say something, she suddenly looked down at his cock. Again, her lips tightened in resolve, and then she swiftly leaned forward and took the tip of his cock in her mouth, still holding the base of his cock with her delicate fingers.

He was completely unprepared for the sensation: wet, soft, surprisingly warm, especially compared to the cool air. He looked down to watch but could really only see the back of her head- her black curls were pulled back with some sort of clip. Maybe a small dragonfly, although it was only barely holding back her wild curls. He wasn't sure why he was focusing on her hair clip right now, except that he got the impression that if he completely gave on to her ministrations, it wouldn't be long until he came, and he wanted to make it last because he didn't know if this would ever happen again.

Jack glanced around to see if anyone could see. The rowdy kids in the seats a few rows up were completely ignoring him, even though he was sure they could see April's head buried in his lap if they merely looked. For once, he was glad he was invisible to them.

He could feel her lips, which were gently wrapped around the head of his penis, start to slide down the shaft, taking more of him in her mouth. Her tongue, which had been swirling over the tip, exploring and tasting him, swooped down to lick the shaft as it entered her mouth. No longer able to focus on anything but her slippery lips and stroking tongue, he closed his eyes and laid his head back on the seat.

As soon as he did, she began to slide her mouth up and down the entire length of his cock. When she got to the base and he was fully engulfed on her mouth, it felt like she would slide her tongue around the front of his shaft, but she also seemed to be licking the tip, too. He could feel her tongue pressing against the underside of his cock when she would slowly withdraw her mouth. Then she would run it over the tip (again?) while she slide her mouth back to the base and then started the process over. It was the most incredible sensation he had ever felt.

As he suspected, it didn't take very long for him to get to the point of no return. His hand involuntarily reached up to the back of her head, his fingers entwining in her curls. His hips pushed slightly off the seat, instinctively trying to push deeper into her mouth. He figured the polite thing to do was to warn her, so he whispered "I'm, uh, about to..."

"Mmm-hmm..." she responded around his cock. If he weren't about to come and was paying closer attention, he could probably notice a tone of amusement in her voice. But his mind was elsewhere and the sensation of her making a noise while her lips were wrapped around his penis was enough to send him over the edge.

It was unlike any orgasm he had ever had. He felt it throughout his whole body, the sweet, tight tension and release of every muscle. Each burst of semen was distinct and each felt like the first one he had ever had. He tried to suppress a loud moan, but it still forced its way out of his throat, sounding like a cross between a gasp and a pant. As his spurts lessened and slowed, he realized his hand, still tangled in her curls, was clenched and he must have been pulling her hair. He relaxed his hand, but it still ached slightly from being balled into a fist so tightly. Just as he started to relax his hips back into the seat, he felt her entire mouth contract around his cock as she swallowed. It was intense, almost painful. She moved her lips up and down his shaft a little more while her tongue licked around his head to get every bit of cum. After a few moments of this, she gently slid her mouth off his cock and, another moment later, removed her hand.

As she sat up and he saw her face for the first time since she gave him his very first blowjob, she gave him a wry smile. She had a bit of his come on her lower lip, just next to her large freckle, and she was wiping it off with her hand. He was fumbling for something to say, something clever, or even something at all. She beat him to it.

"That was fun."

He couldn't place her tone. It seemed unbelievable that she enjoyed making him come in her mouth, yet there wasn't a trace of irony. He assumed that she'd get up and go back to her seat, but instead she just sat there, looking at him. He fumbled with fixing his underwear and pants, which was difficult partly because of his shaky hands, and partly because he felt powerless to break their stare. Sometimes she smiled, sometimes she had a more intense look, usually when she met his eyes. Once she cocked her head slightly, considering him. After what his mind assumed was six hours (years, centuries) of her staring at him and him trying to find something to say that approached the swirl in his mind, the bus slowed down and came to a stop at the school. She stood up and waited for the students to file off the bus, and that seemed to release his mind. He wondered what she looked like naked, what her breath smelled like, how her skin felt against his fingers, how she tasted and sounded while he licked her clitoris (if he could find it - next stop, Wikipedia). He finally pieced together some words.

"That was incredible. Let me know if you, you know, want me to, um, return the favor or something." He silently cursed his awkwardness; that sounded much better in his head. He was such a dork.

When the line in the aisle had moved, she took a step, stopped, turned and looked at him and smiled. She said, "You know, I may just take you up on that."

===================================================================

April really didn't like the 4 Phonies. Every time she rode the bus, they always seemed to be sitting in the two sets of seats right behind her, forcing her to listen to their inane chatter. Who they liked (guys with big muscles who spoke in grunts), who liked them (everyone, duh), what they liked doing (being given expensive purses and teasing guys), and what they didn't like doing (having sex with a guy they haven't first tortured half mad with their teasing). It irritated her that they really only ever talked about that stuff (although, admittedly, a deep Philosophical discussion on social injustice spoken in whore-voice would have been worse, especially given the fact they felt poor people couldn't get jobs because they didn't dress nicely for the interviews). It irritated her that they reinforced the perception that women must be seduced into "giving it up" with purchases of expensive clothes and that women don't really even like sex and therefore use it as a weapon, making it a self-fulfilling prophecy. That would be fine if guys weren't too stupid to realize that was only some girls and some of them were really kind of nice. It even irritated her that the best she could up with was "4 Phonies". It was alliterative, but that was really all it had going for it. 4 Fucking Phonies was okay, but just seemed gratuitious. She tossed around other "F" words. Fart-knockers. Too crude. Fenugreek. Okay, that's dumb. Flipping. Fantabulous. Fuckin' A she felt stupid.

"Fellatio!" This was followed by several giggles. April looked up to see the twat with the huge lips simulating a blowjob, using her tongue to make her cheek poke out. She never understood that - if a guy's penis was making your cheek bulge during a blowjob, then it seemed like you were doing it wrong. Maybe it felt good to do that, but then again, rubbing the head against the inside of your cheek would be one thing, stabbing yourself in the cheek is something else entirely. She'd never touched a guy's penis, but that didn't stop her from using her brain.

Glitter-face chimed in "Eww, totally stop. I totally can't stand to do that for more than a few seconds. What if he, you know, shot?"

Fake-nose added her two cents (what a rip-off) "Nah, it takes them a while to do that. Sometimes too long. That's why I hate giving blowjobs. Once you start they only want to do that and it makes my jaw hurt."

Bad-dye-job said "Yeah, I totally hate when they shoot. Its so gross. I only do it when they really deserve it."

"And I just feel so used, like my mouth's their cum dump and they don't care about me. Like with, you know, what's his name. That one guy. Remember? He did that, and I was like, 'Do you even know my name?' So rude. I'm not just a mouth." said big-lips. To which Glitter-face added to the discourse with a totally necessary "Oh yeah. Totally. Like, totally totally. Yeah."

Despite her best efforts, April rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. She didn't realize she was even on their radar until they stopped talking and she heard one of them say, "What's your problem, curly?"

"Nothing. No problem." she replied. She kept facing forward, not out of shame or fear but to just avoid having a conversation.

"Figures. You don't know anything." said fake-nose.

"Yeah, you totally don't know anything." added bad-dye-job. "Cunt."

At that, April got irritated. "Okay, you want to know my problem? Its you. All of you, and your guerrilla warfare approach to dating and sex. Sex is not a weapon, and sex isn't a down-payment. Sex is supposed to be fun by itself, and if it isn't, well, don't fuck it up - and the guys whose only crime is to be stupid enough to want to spend time with you - for the rest of us." She immediately regretted saying it, not the least because she was sure they didn't understand the last sentence given its complex structure and their C-minus English grades.

Outraged noises all around, with a few "Cunt"s and "Bitch"es thrown in, but no real retort until Fake-nose said, "You know what, if you want to be treated like a tissue paper, you go right ahead. Be a slut who lets guys just use them."

"Its not being used if I choose to do it. And given that its their cock in my mouth, I'm not really sure how I don't have complete control." This confused them because it contained deeper ideas like free choice and control that didn't perfectly line up with their societally-induced ideas. Hang on, she thought, what society are we talking about, anyway? While she pondered that significantly more interesting thought, she missed a few things they said. She only heard bad-dye-job calling her a cunt again before she narrowed her eyes and said "What?"

"I said, I bet you've never even given a blowjob. If you had, you'd know how degrading it is." Huge-lips looked self-satisfied with her thesis statement and her friends glowered like she had just given a coup de grace. April had enough. She got up and went to the only open seat she saw that wasn't next to someone who she knew smelled like rotten cabbage. Walking past the jeers of the Quatro Cuntos ("Ooh! That's better!" she thought. "I may have to keep that one"), she walked half-sideways (the only way to walk down a school bus) and plopped down into the seat next to Jack.

She liked Jack. He was awkward, certainly, but quite sweet. Once he got over his awkwardness, he was quite fun to converse with. Smart and clever, he always seemed to be holding back. She knew it was because of girls like the bitches a few rows up who constantly made them feel bad, so she usually tried to give him extra time to assemble his thoughts and get comfortable. Once he did, she could see someone very cool inside. It didn't hurt that he had unruly hair, an angular face, and dark features, all of which she found kinda sexy. His eyes also had a seriousness about them, which she found intriguing, but the fact he was decently shy meant he rarely looked anyone in the eyes. She turned her head and found him looking at her with curiosity. She figured he was wondering why she suddenly sat next to him. Yes, definitely interesting eyes. It momentarily caused her to lose her train of thought; fortunately he didn't maintain eye contact very long so she could begin thinking again.

What was she doing? She knew that yelling at the girls wouldn't do anything other than make them hate her more. But it dug at her that they were right. She didn't know what it was like. She assumed, she guessed, her body responded to the ideas, but she hadn't experienced it - any of it. And she did want to find out. She wanted to find out for a long time, but never did anything about it. She didn't want to just find some guy, but she also knew if she waited for "the right guy" nothing would happen because she didn't know what that meant. So who would be someone she liked and thought well enough of that also liked her?

The blinding flash of the obvious struck her and before she really thought about how to phrase what she was thinking, she blurted out, "Jack, you like me, yeah?"

She didn't realize his mind was elsewhere, but she was aware that her question clearly came out of the blue. He looked into her eyes again and she relaxed a bit, but still was nervous. The question hung there like a mote of dust caught in a ray of sunlight. She started to think of a way to mitigate the awkward silence, but before she could come up with anything, he said, "Um, uh, yeah. I do." Great, now he was put on the spot. What else would he say? She already felt flustered, and now she was sitting here waiting for him to say something and she had given him no idea what she wanted to hear.

"Yes," he said, more plainly. For some reason it put her quite a bit more at ease. It didn't sound like a forced pleasantry. Rather, it was more like a heartfelt confession. Maybe she hadn't completely alienated him. She thought idly about when she could invite him over, but wasn't sure when the logistics would work out. Or maybe she could go over to his place? How do you ask that? And how far out are we talking? She didn't want to rush into anything and force an awkward situation, but she also really really wanted to do, well, something. She wasn't even sure what, but she knew even just a small something would be enough for her, maybe even something she could do here and now.

She inhaled and held her breath for a moment, bracing for the huge step. She let it out and smiled at him, hoping it would relax him (and if she was lucky, her, too). "I need your help with something."

"Uh, of course. Anything. What do you need me to do?"

"Just relax. Act natural."

She took a glance around to see who would be able to see and whether she thought anyone cared. She quickly (too quickly, probably) decided they were safe. She reached out her hand and put it on his crotch. She could only feel the denim of his jeans, but that was apparently enough to startle him. As he shifted and moved to grab her hand, she sensed he was going to remove it, so she moved first to push his hands away. She looked up and saw the surprise in his face, looking at her like she was crazy.

Maybe she was crazy. Crazy for forcing this to happen right now. Crazy for assuming that he'd want this. Crazy for assuming that if he did want this, that he'd want her to do it. Liking her and wanting to have sex with her were pretty different things. She wasn't the prettiest, the most skilled, or even had a great body. She hesitated a second, but now, she had gone too far already to not be considered crazy either way. She pushed aside her doubts and plunged forward.

"Just relax. Act natural." she said, more to herself than to him.

She quickly grabbed hold of his zipper and unzipped his jeans, the flaps falling apart. She didn't see the point in trying to feel him through his underwear, so she immediately reached under the waistband and grabbed a cock for the very first time. It was warm and soft and very hard. She idly wondered if she did anything in particular to make him hard. Given the angle and the underwear, she couldn't do much beyond grasp at his cock, so she pulled the waistband down and exposed it to the air. Her hand closed around his cock and she held it still so she could look at it. Even though it looked exactly as she expected - a full head perched on top of a pink shaft coming out of a thin thatch of hair - she was momentarily caught off guard with the realization that she was actually holding a cock in her hand. She started to run her fingers over the shaft and head, trying to memorize the sensations and curves. She was snapped out of her reverie by feeling him shift his hips and feeling his shaft twitch in response to her touch. She felt the rush of power, the thrill of controlling someone else's pleasure.

She knew it - she knew that giving someone else pleasure wasn't being used, nor was it using. It was just as pleasurable for her as it was for him. She gripped his cock a little tighter and stroked it up and down several times, and reveled in how she loved being right.

She suddenly realized that he really hadn't gotten an opportunity to consent to this, that she had blind-sided him. If the situation were reversed and a guy unbuttoned her pants on the bus, would she have let it happen. She honestly couldn't say yes. Looking into his face, tense with pleasure, she watched him respond to her touch. He looked up at her and looked into her eyes; his intense eyes seemed even more focused, more deep. It made her smile to think about the pleasure she was giving him. When she saw a brief flash of hesitancy, of self-consciousness in his eyes, she was about to abandon the whole thing. But then he smiled, and she took that as enough of a sign. "Its okay. Just relax."

She considered her position for a moment after he broke their gaze to glance around nervously. She wasn't entirely sure what she would do next; she wasn't even sure how she got here. It was just a series of snap decisions and impulses. She also wasn't sure when she got so turned on. She pressed her thighs together and felt the warm, delicious sensation on her clitoris. She also felt the spreading wetness from her pussy on her thighs. At that point, she just gave in to the moment and leaned forward to take his cock in her mouth.

The tip slipped between her lips and she stopped there, reveling in the sensations. She licked it slightly, running her tongue around the rim, and up over the top, running it gently over the opening. She tightened and loosened her lips to feel the way he responded to different pressures, she gently sucked, and gently exhaled. He seemed to respond to all of it, his head swelling slightly, periodically. After she had thoroughly explored the head, she started to take more of his cock into her mouth, sliding down in infinitesimally small increments. As more shaft entered her mouth, her tongue would welcome it, tasting and feeling the ever-increasing amount of skin it could reach.

Finally, she felt him completely relax and give in to her mouth and tongue. It was a completely rush that, in the middle of a bus and in plain view of anyone who cared to look, she could get an extremely self-conscious boy in such a compromising position to completely relax. The revelation made her increase her pleasuring of his hard penis and took all of him in her mouth, feeling the tip rubbing against the back of her mouth and the entrance of her throat. Having hit bottom, pressing her lips against her fingers still holding the base of his cock, she slid her mouth back up to the tip. Her tongue would lead the way, swirling back and forth along the shaft. At the top, with just the tip in her mouth, her tongue lick across the entire top twice before she descended down to the base and repeated her ministrations.

After a dozen or so complete trips, she felt his thighs tighten and his hips push up. She initially assumed he wanted her to take him deeper, but quickly realized he was getting close and instinctively thrusting. She felt his hand suddenly grab her head. Not hard or forceful, just pressed lightly against her scalp, like he didn't know what to do with it. It was shaking from the pleasure. She mentally braced herself for him to come, although she kept sliding her mouth up and down his shaft as she had been.

"I'm, uh, about to..." he whispered. It struck her as funny that he didn't think she could tell. She wanted to acknowledge his words, but wasn't really able to say anything with his cock in her mouth, so she just muttered "Mmm-hmm..." around his cock.

At that, he came in her mouth. His hand contracted fiercely around her hair, pulling slightly. She could tell he was trying not to make any noise and was impressed that he was able to refrain. She knew that she wouldn't have done as well if she were the one having the orgasm. At first, she wasn't sure what happened since she could feel his cock contracting like he was coming, but there wasn't any semen. After a moment, though, she tasted it; he must not have shot very hard. She licked around his shaft, tasting the semen, deciding the taste, while somewhat salty and thick, wasn't gross like she feared. After he seemed to be done spurting, she used her tongue to corral the semen to the roof of her mouth and then swallowed the whole load. Yes, it definitely wasn't at all unpleasant. In fact, she kept her mouth there a few moments more, cleaning the shaft and tip and gathering the stray bits of come into her mouth. When she finally removed her mouth, a bit dribbled out and she released his cock with the hand that had been holding the base and wiped her lips. As she did so, she gave him a reassuring smile.

With a flipness that belied her complete arousal, she said, "That was fun."

He didn't say anything right away, and although he did start putting his clothes back into place, he didn't break their stare. Her mind felt surprisingly settled and had no trace of being uncomfortable or having any regrets. She instead felt a great thrill from having just given someone such thorough pleasure. There was something in his eyes that she couldn't quite read. At times it looked like gratitude and she smiled as if to say she enjoyed it quite a bit herself. At other times, it looked like he wanted more - more of the pleasure, more of the contact, more of her. She seemed to like that idea as well, and tried to somehow convey that with her eyes. She wasn't sure she succeeded.

As the bus pulled to a stop at the school, she got up and moved to the aisle to disembark. She was suddenly more aware of the wetness between her legs. It had started to get slightly uncomfortable and she felt it a little further down her thigh. The memory of how his face looked while she stroked his cock, the feelings of his cock in her mouth, and the taste of his come all flooded her mind. She needed to get to a bathroom and give herself at least one orgasm, maybe two, if she was going to have any hope of being anything but useless today.

"That was incredible. Let me know if you, you know, want me to, um, return the favor or something." The words triggered in her an image of him kissing her neck, her nipples, her stomach, and his head lowering to slowly lick her clitoris to orgasm. She smiled to herself at the thought. The line had moved to exit the bus. She took a step, stopped, turned and looked at him and said, "You know, I may just take you up on that."

She didn't think even 3 would do the trick now.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Innocence, lost.



On an ordinary day in her ordinary life, she walked into this man’s office.  He was a professional, an expert contractor, commissioning a new night club for the city.  She was seventeen, a high-school junior, and a journalist for her school’s paper.  She came to the man’s office to gather facts for her piece on local construction.

Young, pretty, vivacious, she teemed with the expectations of a future yet limited.  So much hope but so little experience.  She carried this with her wherever she went.  Mainly, it went unnoticed.  To most, she was just a kid.  Just a kid, who would figure it out the way we all do—in time.  Few people are active participants in initiation.  That is because so few people actually know whose firsts are whose firsts.  Unless that information is volunteered, we tend to assume everyone has the same level of experience that we do, or more.

But some people notice innocence, notice initiation.  And of these people, some derive pleasure from taking, from giving.

Looking up from his desk, he noticed her right away.  He noticed her pencil, her pad of paper, her long, brown hair, her fitted t-shirt, her a-line skirt, her ballet-flats.  He also noticed what was not apparent to the naked eye.  He noticed a body, still unexplored, eyes, unaccustomed to longing, to lust, skin yet to be riddled with pleasurable force or caress.  Amidst all of this untapped wealth, he noticed her obvious desire for knowledge.  Beyond what facts he could provide for her article, she wanted to know about the deep abyss of life.  But did he really want to be the one to show start the tour, to teach that lesson?

She sat in his leather office-chair and made her way through the list of questions.  He complied, adding a smirk or smile, tempting flirtation on her part.  She noticed herself cross her legs and twirl her hair.  She leaned in when she spoke.  She smiled with sincerity.  This set off a small alarm in her head.  She asked herself why she felt flushed, why she was, (and yes, she was,) flirting with this man who was arguably twice her age.  Men like this contractor were always asexual beings that walked in and right out of her life as dentists, teachers, friend’s parents, or relatives.  But not this man.   

Without knowing why, she moved the conversation off her list, and asked him why he thought night clubs seemed to be a place of lowered inhibitions, outside of the obvious store of alcohol.  He smiled, lighting his beautiful green eyes, and she noticed his skin and jaw-line, his facial hair, and stature.  This contractor did not look a thing like the guys at her school.  He was grown-up.  He was a man.  And she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to know.
The contractor spread his lips to answer and she couldn’t stop staring.  He mentioned something about the dim lighting making people feel disguised.  He talked about the energy people associate with night clubs—their expectations fuel the energy they bring to the club.  As he explained, she thought his voice was so fluid and seductive.  She wanted him to keep talking but she wanted the words to change.  

Trying to stop herself, but failing miserably, she asked another question.
“What do you think is the best way a female in this sort of setting can signal to a guy that she wants him?”

His pupils dilated and his mind raced.  He knew what she was trying to do.  He wanted it.  He wanted her.  He wanted to be the first to run his hands over her smooth body, to kiss her supple lips, to feel her soft, wet pussy.  But he also knew that he needed to be chosen.  She needed to choose her initiation, her own taking.

In an effort to not assume, he side-swiped the question and answered, “she should just make herself available.”

She looked at him, disappointed in his response.  Her naïve mind thought he would take advantage of any open door she sent his way.  That is what boys do, don’t they?  Then she reconciled those thoughts.  Yes, that is what boys do.  He is not a boy.  She is not a safe outlet for his expression.  She knew this.  So she gave into the fact that if she wanted him to walk through that door, she would have to open it for him.

Mustering her bravery, she clarified, “What if she wants a guy to know, beyond a doubt, that she wants him to take her home?”

Every rational part of him wanted to skirt around the question again, thank her for the interview, and send her on her way.  But it wasn’t that simple.  He wanted her.  

Throwing away convention, he responded, slowly, “Well, I guess, she could walk up to the guy and say, ‘thinking about you and me makes me so fucking wet.  I want you to find out how wet.’”

A sick smile crossed her lips as warmth spread out to every inch of her body.  Her mind let out just one thought, “FUCK.”  Like a leading lady, she took her cue, stood up, brushed her skirt, and walked around the desk.  Her eyes locked his eyes, and he waited, anticipating the realization of his desire.

She walked next to him, leaned over, and whispered in his ear, “Thinking about you and me makes me so fucking wet.  I want you to find out how wet.”

With that, she chose him.  He let his better-judgment fall to the floor, and grabbed her hand.  He sat her on his desk, cupped her face, and kissed her passionately.  “Fuck, I want to find out.”

Reeling in this new-found power, she kissed him back, forcefully, sliding her hands around his neck and shoulders, feeling his broad body press against hers.  

He could feel her nubile breasts under her t-shirt and the slopes of her body bending towards her young hips and firm ass.  He had to feel more.  He slid his hands under her shirt, feeling her perfect, warm skin.  She moaned.  She wanted him like a preposition—in her, on her, around her, with her.  Sensing how tentatively he moved on her body, she removed her own shirt, giving him permission to move on.  Mirroring her, he removed his shirt.  She marveled at his broad chest-this perfect smattering of hair, tapering down his torso, this soft but rugged skin.  She ran her hands over him.  He watched her explore his body.  Her eyes lit up with pleasure and want.  He savored the thought that he was the first man she had ever expressed that part of herself with. 

She looked back up at him, and wrapped her legs around his waist.  He kissed her again and ran his hands over her bra.  Deciding it needed to go, and now, he reached around her back and unclasped it.  Her bra fell to the floor, exposing her perfectly swelled breasts.  He kissed down her neck and down her chest.  He kissed each breast, and circled his tongue around her nipples.  As her nipples hardened, she could think of only one thing—his cock.  She wanted to see it, to feel it, to taste it.  She pushed him back, and reached for his belt buckle.  He stood up, as she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, and ran his hands over his face in disbelief.  Was this really happening?  Should this really be happening?  

His pants hit the floor and he stepped out of them.  She could see how hard he was through his boxer-briefs.  He grabbed her hand and placed it on his cock.  She rubbed up and down, exploring every inch.  He didn’t feel the way she imagined it would feel.  He was harder; he was better.

She placed her hands on either side of his briefs and pushed them down, exposing his beautiful cock.  She looked his body up and down, taking in every magnificent part.  Noticing her enticement, he took a step back, and touched himself as she watched.  He gripped his cock and stroked it up and down.  She watched, fascinated.  He was the best thing she had ever seen.  But she had seen enough.  She wanted to touch.

Stepping down from the desk, she never took her eyes off of his body as she slid to her knees.  She lacked experience in oral sex, but the idea always turned her on, even though most of her friends thought it was disgusting.  She liked the idea of power and control, of giving pleasure and painful torture.  At a base level, she liked the notion of having a cock in her mouth.  Acting on her impulse, she gripped the base of his cock with her hand.  He swelled and gasped as she did.  He looked down and she looked up, locking eyes as she opened her mouth and slid her tongue around his swollen head.  He bit his lip and moaned.  Opening her mouth wider, she took his cock all the way in her mouth and slowly pulled him out.  She enjoyed being right.  Sucking cock felt amazing.  She smiled and took him in her mouth again, swirling her tongue, exploring the texture and taste.  He watched her series of firsts; he watched her pleasure; he heard her small moans, muffled by his cock.  He thought, “Holy shit.  I am the stupidest man in the entire world.  And the luckiest.”

After several minutes of giving him head, she stood up, unzipped her skirt, and pulled off her panties.  Facing each other, her naked body reached for his, wanting to feel his hard body and cock pressed against hers.  He pulled her close and kissed her deeply.  He knew what he was about to teach her and she knew what she was about to learn.
She sat up on the desk and slowly spread her legs, exposing her wet, pink pussy.  He smiled and ran his finger over her lips.  He moved to her clitoris and she moaned.  He slowly slid his finger in her wet pussy.  She was so soft, so warm, so wet.

He fingered her, listening to her moan and swear.  He swirled around her pussy and her clit at differing speeds and pressure.  She had never felt so much pleasure.  It didn’t feel quite like this when she touched herself.  As she got closer to orgasm, he sunk down to his knees, moved his finger from her clit into her pussy, and went down on her.  He tongued her clit, increasing the pressure, and moved his finger slowly in and out of her dripping cunt.  Her moans got louder, her body tensed, her legs started to shake.  He could feel her get right up to the edge, and he pushed his finger deeper and harder until he could feel her cum so hard, so slowly.  She screamed and arched her back.  He continued to slowly finger her spasming pussy as she came back down. 

When her breathing slowed, she sat up, told him how amazing that felt, scooted to the edge of the desk, and told him she was ready.  He smiled at her, acquiescing to her command.  He grabbed her hips and positioned his entry.  He slid his tip in first and she gasped at the sensation.  Their eyes connected and she urged him on.  He slowly slid in the rest of his cock.  She winced in slight pain.  He asked if she was ok.  She told him “yes” and asked him to continue.  He fucked her slowly until she got accustomed to the sensations and the girth.  After several thrusts, she relaxed and started to enjoy the pleasure of this man in her tight pussy.

He rode her slow and hard, drinking in every moment, every sensation.  She stared at his body, his deliberate movements.  A stray thought crossed her mind: what was she doing?  This was not how she imagined her first time.  But, FUCK, was it hot.  It was intense and animalistic.  She didn’t care that she barely knew his name and might never see him again.  She knew what he could offer and boy was he giving it.

As the minutes passed, his thrusts sped up.  Continually hard and deliberate, he moved faster and faster until she was screaming from the pleasure.  Fucking her this hard and this fast got him closer and closer.  He opened his eyes once more to look down on this perfect, new body, this girl, barely a woman that captivated him so.  She was so beautiful, but not so pure, not anymore.  He let his disbelief fall once more, overtaken by the hot, wet need to come inside her.  Letting that thought, that need, overtake his body, he looked her in the eyes.  She knew what he was going to say, going to ask.  She looked back and whispered, “I want you to cum in me.”  He thrust again and again and came so hard, so deep.  She could feel him shoot inside her and she moaned at the sensation.  He fell over her, bracing himself on the desk in exasperation.  She felt his body collapse and recover.

When he had gathered his breath and sanity, he pulled out, handed her his shirt and they both cleaned up in a mutually acknowledged silence.  She slid on her panties and bra, zipped her a-line skirt, pulled on her t-shirt and grabbed her bag.  He put on his boxer-briefs and pants.  She walked back to his desk, kissed him on the cheek and said, “I’ll remember this interview for the rest of my life.” She smiled and he watched her walk out of his office.  The door closed between them.  Another smile crossed her face; she looked up at the sky and for the hundredth time today thought, “Fuck.”  He leaned on a wall in his office, shook his head, beaming, and audibly mumbled, “Fuck.”