"I like you a lot," she cooed into his ear. He beamed and forced his cock just a little bit deeper into her. The condom, or was it her cervix, made her pussy feel kind of shallow. He decided it was a good feeling. Made him feel big.
"I like you too."
It was true, he figured. He must like her. Not that he had thought too much about it beyond the excitement of getting laid again by such an enthusiastic lover. Regardless, he couldn't help flashing back to his rush to the airport that day, hoping beyond hope to be able to fly to her city with enough time for a proper date instead of just sticking to his pre-arranged itinerary, one which would have only left time for a quick fuck and extreme sleep deprivation.
"I can put you on the 4," said Meredith, the Virgin Blue counter-lady. Funny that he remembered her name, but had a hard time recalling the name of even the longest term girlfriends.
"Great!"
She glanced up with a perfunctory smile and went back to the staccato typing, adding, "Just so you know, we don't usually accommodate standby requests, but we're trying to get people out of here quickly on account of the weather."
"Brilliant."
He smiled awkwardly at her, the little voice in his head bitching that his foreign affect probably did not sound right. Then for reasons that defy rational explanation, he added, "my girlfriend will be so excited."
One of his neck muscles twitched like a mexican jumping bean.
"Oh, that sounds wonderful. How long have you been away from her?"
The question was fair, but unexpected and now complicated by the necessity to embellish a bastard of a story that should have been aborted long before getting anywhere near his mouth. A truthful answer would entail explanations about his fiancé back home, much more detail that called for at the moment. Social anxiety at its worst.
"I travel quite a bit," he replied, eyeing his well-worn American passport in her possession. Not that it mattered what she thought about him in the first place. A tinge of self-directed anger flickered in his gut. Why was he having this conversation again? Cheri wasn't yet much more than a one-night stand. Blank stares exchanged. He registered a couple of quick mental notes about the dangers of excessive extroversion.
Blink. Kiss. Tongue. Sweat. "Mmmm."
His left arm cradling her shoulders and grasping her left bicep, he shifted into a position that simultaneously put the whole weight of her body onto his cock and limited her range of motion. As he spread his thighs, her legs were forced further up in the air. Her freedom of motion thus constrained, he tried to clear his head and focused on a series of abdominal crunches that he suspected might put her over the top.
It worked.
"Oh-h, you are so delicious-ly, oh… naugh-ty," she huffed into his shoulder.
"Pot. Kettle."
Was she coming? He couldn't be sure with Cheri. She was clearly not a screamer, no matter how hard he gave it to her.
Yeah, she was coming. The considerable pressure on his nipples got stronger. Earlier in the week he had trained her to pinch hard on them, much harder he guessed than she had ever pinched another man. Piercings and years of rough stimulation caused him considerable difficulties in getting aroused with gentle lovers. You know the type, that gently caress your cock in the loose grip of forefinger and thumb during a blowjob. He hated that.
Concentrate.
"Mmm, you're amazing."
Yes. To this latest compliment he merely gazed in her eyes and smiled and continued trying to focus on how much fun they were having. Fun. Work. Fun work. God, he so wished he could better turn his conscious thoughts off during fucking. Sometimes guilty, other times random, so often they intruded on his raw carnal pleasure. Without chemical assistance, all it would take was a passing thought to distract him from the responsibility at hand. Or, eh, at groin. Going limp is such a liability. Especially when wearing a condom.
"Shit!"
He looked down and realized why the level of pleasure had shot up considerably in the last (few?) minutes? No rubber.
"Uh, the condom is gone."
"Where?"
"Eh, not quite sure. I don't see it."
His hard-on deflated.
"Maybe it's inside me."
She wobbled into the bathroom. To check?
He wouldn't be having any sex at all if it weren't for two little miracles of medical science: Viagra and Levitra. The little blue diamonds gave him porn star staying power at the cost of horrible nasal congestion and an overall sense of unease. The little yellow pills, on the other hand, had a subtler, more natural effect. He had gone blue on his first night with Cheri, for maximum impact. Tonight called for yellow and he had downed his dose while standing in the aisle of the plane, halfway from Briz to Melly.
"Oh my goodness, I had to dig deep in there to get it out."
He chuckled.
True story.
By: benzine
on 06-06-2012
Category: General
Yes Votes: 0 | No Votes: 2
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"I like you too."
It was true, he figured. He must like her. Not that he had thought too much about it beyond the excitement of getting laid again by such an enthusiastic lover. Regardless, he couldn't help flashing back to his rush to the airport that day, hoping beyond hope to be able to fly to her city with enough time for a proper date instead of just sticking to his pre-arranged itinerary, one which would have only left time for a quick fuck and extreme sleep deprivation.
"I can put you on the 4," said Meredith, the Virgin Blue counter-lady. Funny that he remembered her name, but had a hard time recalling the name of even the longest term girlfriends.
"Great!"
She glanced up with a perfunctory smile and went back to the staccato typing, adding, "Just so you know, we don't usually accommodate standby requests, but we're trying to get people out of here quickly on account of the weather."
"Brilliant."
He smiled awkwardly at her, the little voice in his head bitching that his foreign affect probably did not sound right. Then for reasons that defy rational explanation, he added, "my girlfriend will be so excited."
One of his neck muscles twitched like a mexican jumping bean.
"Oh, that sounds wonderful. How long have you been away from her?"
The question was fair, but unexpected and now complicated by the necessity to embellish a bastard of a story that should have been aborted long before getting anywhere near his mouth. A truthful answer would entail explanations about his fiancé back home, much more detail that called for at the moment. Social anxiety at its worst.
"I travel quite a bit," he replied, eyeing his well-worn American passport in her possession. Not that it mattered what she thought about him in the first place. A tinge of self-directed anger flickered in his gut. Why was he having this conversation again? Cheri wasn't yet much more than a one-night stand. Blank stares exchanged. He registered a couple of quick mental notes about the dangers of excessive extroversion.
Blink. Kiss. Tongue. Sweat. "Mmmm."
His left arm cradling her shoulders and grasping her left bicep, he shifted into a position that simultaneously put the whole weight of her body onto his cock and limited her range of motion. As he spread his thighs, her legs were forced further up in the air. Her freedom of motion thus constrained, he tried to clear his head and focused on a series of abdominal crunches that he suspected might put her over the top.
It worked.
"Oh-h, you are so delicious-ly, oh… naugh-ty," she huffed into his shoulder.
"Pot. Kettle."
Was she coming? He couldn't be sure with Cheri. She was clearly not a screamer, no matter how hard he gave it to her.
Yeah, she was coming. The considerable pressure on his nipples got stronger. Earlier in the week he had trained her to pinch hard on them, much harder he guessed than she had ever pinched another man. Piercings and years of rough stimulation caused him considerable difficulties in getting aroused with gentle lovers. You know the type, that gently caress your cock in the loose grip of forefinger and thumb during a blowjob. He hated that.
Concentrate.
"Mmm, you're amazing."
Yes. To this latest compliment he merely gazed in her eyes and smiled and continued trying to focus on how much fun they were having. Fun. Work. Fun work. God, he so wished he could better turn his conscious thoughts off during fucking. Sometimes guilty, other times random, so often they intruded on his raw carnal pleasure. Without chemical assistance, all it would take was a passing thought to distract him from the responsibility at hand. Or, eh, at groin. Going limp is such a liability. Especially when wearing a condom.
"Shit!"
He looked down and realized why the level of pleasure had shot up considerably in the last (few?) minutes? No rubber.
"Uh, the condom is gone."
"Where?"
"Eh, not quite sure. I don't see it."
His hard-on deflated.
"Maybe it's inside me."
She wobbled into the bathroom. To check?
He wouldn't be having any sex at all if it weren't for two little miracles of medical science: Viagra and Levitra. The little blue diamonds gave him porn star staying power at the cost of horrible nasal congestion and an overall sense of unease. The little yellow pills, on the other hand, had a subtler, more natural effect. He had gone blue on his first night with Cheri, for maximum impact. Tonight called for yellow and he had downed his dose while standing in the aisle of the plane, halfway from Briz to Melly.
"Oh my goodness, I had to dig deep in there to get it out."
He chuckled.
True story.
By: benzine
on 06-06-2012
Category: General
Yes Votes: 0 | No Votes: 2