That first time… God! She hadn’t stood a chance. The wine, the kisses. Her blood had been boiling by the time he had started getting down to serious business. Her last coherent thoughts about resisting his insistent advances had been as he had slowly unbuttoned her blouse. The pause that had created had given her time to reconsider, to tell him ‘no’ or ‘not yet’. On balance it was hard to see how she could have. She had known his parents were away for the weekend, and she had agreed to come around to stay. She even had a carefully crafted cover story for her own folks. And she had already told him she would spend the night. Exactly where she would be sleeping had not actually been specified… but the intent was hard to deny.
The meal, the wine… it had been wonderful. So grown up, so sophisticated. Necking on the sofa seemed to be a natural continuation of a dreamily heady evening. It would be hard to claim his advances were unexpected… or even new! The last time they had been alone was during the last years summer holidays… with his hand in her knickers and her moaning as she rode his fingers! Hard to see how she could refuse to let him go at least as far again. And be honest, why the hell was she here if she was not craving much of same? And please explain why she had chosen not to wear a bra that night!
Her nipples had been painfully hard long before that first brush of his lips, and she had been forced to bite back a scream of animal pleasure as he had first engulfed first one, then other in the molten cavity of his mouth. Hm… Hard to remember just how intense that had been. She knew that she had never experienced the same level of arousal just from her nips since then. Probably linked to all the anticipation that that night had held. She must have known, even if she had been unable to admit it to herself at the time… she had been more than ready. She had stroked his hair, enjoying the way he nuzzled her breasts, teasing her aching nipples and found herself trying to raise her upper body, pressing them harder against his face, filling his mouth. She had always been rather pleased with her breasts… full enough for her not to worry too much about it, but small enough not to draw too much unwanted attention either. Rather a nice compromise she had always thought a little smugly. She had had to bite back a giggle at the memory of his first exposure to her nips. She had worried… too small, too large? Should they be darker, lighter? He had kissed them tenderly and then told what beautiful breasts she had. God, he had embarrassed her! And made her glow so happily.
Sitting on his sofa, her engorged nipples being sucked hard and confident in his desire and pleasure she had stroked his hair, whispering ‘yes, baby, yes!’
Soon he had pushed a hand down below her waist, between her thighs and working at the fork of her jeans. Without any conscious thought her legs had parted, giving him more access.
The pressure, the bulk of his wrist between her upper legs, the delicious memory of his fingers moving in the moisture of her… She loved the feel of him rubbing her jeans, a layer of cotton and denim between her tender flesh and his firm fingers… it seemed to magnify and heighten the sensation dramatically. He had seemed equally content, kissing her mouth and throat, nuzzling her bared breasts and rubbing her between the thighs… she was suddenly concerned that he might not move the process on, take her further down the road that her body was suddenly keen to explore. She could feel her hips moving, pressing up against the rubbing hand and stiff fingers. How more blatant could she have been.
Her jeans had been a problem, or so she had thought. When he undid the button she had wondered if she would have to stand up, go through the motions of getting them off, which she knew would break the spell he was weaving so wonderfully. But no… he had simply pushed his hand down inside, forcing her zip down as he filled the front of her pants. Just the memory made the hairs on her arm rise; his hand… warm and hard and feeling huge in the tight confines of her pants. The fingers combed through the spare curls of her pubic hair, pressing further, engulfing the mound of her sex. She had shivered at the firm touch, the finger sliding down the moist groove…
He had forced his open mouth over hers, filling her with is tongue even as his finger had pushed into her lower body… Hm… that had been a nice touch. A second finger had joined the first, stretching her wider, filling her further. She had been aware of her wetness… worried momentarily… then just surrendered to the sensations. She had felt dizzy, her blood on fire with an hungry ache between her thighs. She had rarely been so aroused… so hot, so aching. Her own masturbatory touches seemed so pale, so inadequate in comparison. Her nerve endings had never tingled so, her nipples been so sensitive. An intense, mini explosion between her thighs made her gasp, her body heave and tense.
He had paused, two fingers deep in her wetness and his head had pulled away, eyes focusing on hers. He had raised a quizzical eyebrow… A worried frown disturbed his brow.
‘Did I.. hurt you?’ he had whispered, concerned… puzzled.
‘Idiot’ had been her breathless response, then ‘Do it to me…’ Oh God! Had she really said that? He smiled then, kissed her nose and grinned,
‘I never thought you’d ask!’
Still shocked by her own words, she had hardly reacted to the abrupt withdrawal of those magic fingers, his body sliding off the sofa. She had not understood his intention and only grasped the full import when, kneeling on floor in front of her, he had lifted her legs. Bemused then exited, she belatedly helped him as he lifted her bottom and firmly pulled her jeans and pants off her hips. It was certainly efficient… her bottom suddenly bare, her legs, still encased in her crumpled jeans raised high and folded back over her chest. Oh God! That memory of the sudden exposure of her bottom, her ass and swollen lipped pussy… perched on the edge of the sofa. Fire and ice. She could feel the yell of protest, of fear rising in her throat… Then he kissed her again. Jesus! She had not expected that… His mouth down there, between her raised thighs, hot breath on her ass and the burning sliver of his tongue lapping at her pussy lips. It was so obscenely dirty, so mind-blowingly wonderful… feeling his tongue pushing into her, into her vagina, into her cunt. She still blushed remembering that first time, her animal reaction. It would not have mattered right then if her parents had walked in on them! She still marvelled that anything could possible feel so right – and so wrong, at the same time. She had shuddered in horror as he licked her bottom, then cried out and as his open mouth engulfed my swollen labia and his tongue curled up into her throbbing cunt.
She had had her first proper orgasm, fingers knotted in his hair, arms stretching awkwardly around her raised and quivering thighs. Her own animal noises filling her ears as she tugged and pulled on his hair, grinding his face into overflowing wetness…
Even as she was wracked in the mindless throes of her bodies bliss, he was working on his own jeans. When he finally started to ignore her insistent tugging on his poor hair and straightened up, she had been made immediately aware that there was a new player on the scene. Although she could see little past her raise thighs and rumpled jeans… It felt like a warm, hard rubber prong rubbing over the slippery flesh of my bare bottom. The realisation had cut through the pleasurable delirium like an ice bolt. He had his cock out! Not just out, but pressed against and sliding along the dripping groove of her wonderously exposed pussy… Suddenly there was no resistance, no more fear… Just an overwhelming ache to feel him inside her aching, hungry body..
He had made her beg! Trapped in that folded, exposed position, unable to see him was one of the most frustrating and exiting things she have ever experienced. Bondage suddenly made a great deal of sense. He teased her, rubbing his erection against her wet, swollen lipped cunt. She remembered the thoughts… no more coy pussy, no more technical vagina any of the other words of childhood or modesty… It was her cunt. Hot and wet and waiting… and God he had made her wait. She had heaved futily against the pinning restraint, flexed her confined legs and thighs.. all the while suffering the teasing, slippery contact as he rubbed against her, soaking the hard length in her liquid arousal. Back and forth along the tingling groove and throbbing clit. She had heard her own voice, almost unrecognisable with lust and hunger begging him to ‘do it’ and then ‘fuck me! God, fuck me!’
Then the tip of him, the swollen glans was pressed to her well fingered opening. She had sobbed and moaned as the pressure increased, widening her, slowly… ever so slowly pressing deeper, stretching her. Was there pain? She couldn’t honestly remember… maybe… but it had made no impact on her reeling senses. She had been in an orgasmic haze… still mind blown from his mouth and tongue. His cock was fulfilment, it felt right, it felt good. So good… A heart stopping lifetime later he was fully inside her, his balls resting against the cheeks of her bottom. She had felt so full, so.. so… fucked. He had started moving slowly, driving back and forth, making her sob and moan. She had been so unbelievably wet, and did remember one coherent thought – that she was making a right mess of the sofa.
His fucking paused, as he had struggled with her jeans and pants. The urgent movements made my body, my cunt move around on his cock delightfully as I fought to help him. Then my legs were free, spread wide and open, his hand under my knees still forcing them high, folded over my tits. She ached to look, see her little pussy stretched wide around his thickness… but she could also sense an urgency in him now.. his expression intent and focused as he really started to fuck her. Thrusting deep, harder and harder into her quivering body, hitting something deep inside her, forcing her to grunts and gasp aloud each time. She could hear her own moaning and mumbling between the gasping, urging him on, swearing at him. His panting mingled with her own, the slap of wet flesh and the odd obscenely wet squelch. She remembered the saner part of my mind screaming at me that he was going to cum, squirt semen deep inside her receptive cunt, and I didn’t give a damn that he had worn no condom. If she had know what he intended, what was going to happen she had to admit that she probably wouldn’t have stopped him.
It was a shock when she felt his thickness pull out of her, heard herself moan and the abrupt empty feeling… The moan, which had been abruptly silenced, then replaced by an outraged howl as something even more shocking occurred. This time there had been pain, sharp and hot and strangely pleasurable as the slick tip of his cock pierced her juice smeared anus. It had been like having a telegraph pole thrust up her… an admittedly well-greased telegraph pole, and into an orgasmicly relaxed anus – but still…Oh God! Pinned by his bodyweight, obscenely spread and not mentioning so totally finger fucked, pussy licked and cock fucked… she had been unable tot offer the slightest resistance to the obscene intrusion. Her eyes had glared up into his, knowing that he was not seeing her, focused and intent on the feel of his cock driving into her tight opening. The fiery ring of her anal sphincter was simultaneity irritated and soothed by the slick passage of his greasy shaft. He had filled her in a gut wrenching way she still struggled to describe. Then came the explosive, painful, indescribable sensation of him repeating the mind numbing violation as he started to pump it rapidly back and fourth. She had never felt so helpless, or so graphically violated… and found her body responding like never before. The pain blossomed into something weirdly pleasurable, and she still struggled to decide if it was a physical effect or a mental, emotional one. Just the knowledge of what was being so outrageously done to her – his slippery cock thrusting into her virginal anus – started to tip her over the edge once more.
Then his eyes had focused on hers once more, his expression twisting, eyes screwing up – and a memory that maybe she had even felt the pulse of cum shoot down his cock shaft – as he exploded in her ass… his face so beautifully agonised as he cried out in his pleasure. She had felt her belly clench in return, blood singing and thundering in her ears – even as he had collapsed over her – his cock throbbing and twitching, so tightly gripped by her abused little hole.
She could never remember how long they lay like that, but recalled how every time his body moved, her arms and legs, now wrapped around his waist, would pull him tight against her, unable to bear his the thought of his loss. He had softened, slipped free of her body at some point. It was only when he mumbled against her breasts that he was losing circulation that her body had relaxed enough to release him. Her heart had melted at his shy smile, then leapt in pleasant anticipation when he suggested they had better have a shower. Confused memories of struggling from the remains of their clothes, lots of giggling and stumbling and experimenting with water temperature. Then the steamy, close confines and slippery bodies soaping each other. Soapy fingers in her puss, tenderly exploring the tenderness of her ass and the renewed hardness rubbing, hot and slippery against her belly. The final act of kneeling under the cascade of hot water, licking and sucking on his squeaky clean cock, hungry to taste his cum and wondering how good a lubricant liquid soap would make – already thinking about the second time.