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Everyone here was over 18 years old at the time 🙂

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I last wrote about the first school hookup I managed to stumble into, and the absolute angel who saw fit to grab me by the balls and drag me into her life. We’ll go back there today, but only if you promise to do your level best not to laugh at my idiocy…not too much anyway.

While she was a grade-A professional with her lips and tongue, with a body that absolutely refused to relent, she was apparently far less inclined to actually let me cum than she was to get me hard. Night after night, for weeks on end, I’d stumble home from her apartment, a half-hard cock, still wet from her throat, stuffed painfully into my pants because she greatly preferred her turn at receiving. I didn’t mind, much; she looked adorable on her back with her hands pawing at herself, or biting the back of her hand if her roommates were home, and the little tuft of hair she maintained tickled my nose so sublimely. Frankly, it was an honor to lick her every night, even if she only let me cum occasionally, and only ever using her hand after a few minutes of slobbery kisses.

It was worth it, I swear. She was fun, energetic, and outgoing in all the methods I was not, and seemed to actually like me for whatever reason. I was never gonna match that about her, but it was fun to watch and be around, so letting her be an utter pillow princess seemed a worthwhile proposition.

Tonight had been no different. Dinner, a shitty movie in her living room with her 3 roommates and their boyfriends, eventual goodnights all around, and the not so casual stroll down the hallway.

She shut the door behind us, and her hair went straight up into the ponytail, as had become her habit. At this point, the sight of the black scrunchie she kept around her wrist was all it took to set me off; she normally insisted on doing my belt and zipper herself, but almost two weeks of teasing had me looking for corners to cut, so I did it myself.

This amused her to no end; with a hearty giggle, she dropped to her knees instead of having me lie of the bed again, and tugged my trousers down. She was still absolutely enamored with my cock, and her wide-eyed wonder and appreciative humming as it flopped out only served to inflate my growing ego. I was, as you might guess, very willing for this; surely enough time had passed that she’d be eager to exercise some reciprocity this time. Fuck, I must have rubbed half my taste buds off on her clit in the last few weeks; surely the fact that she was on her knees this time meant that I was in for more than getting stroked off onto my own stomach this time, right?

Right?

All signs indicated a resounding ‘YES’ tonight, as she hungrily kissed at the underside of my head while unbuttoning her blouse; her soft tits bound up in a plain black push-up bra looked every bit as wonderful now as the first time I’d ever seen them. She asked if I liked the way her cleavage looked, which I very much did, so she left it on and let me enjoy the view while she began to kiss and lick more intently, taking more and more of me past her pillowy lips.

I lost myself in the moment of it, relishing the affectionate strokes of her hands, the quiet compliments she paid me between breathy mouthfuls of my cock, the way she trailed her soft hands up and down by thigh. I was, simply put, unreasonably hard; she had never been one to swallow the thing whole, or even make much attempt to, but I’m not sure she could have if she wanted it. I was painfully erect with the pent up eagerness of having been here a dozen times already, dreading the words “my turn now” almost as much as I looked forward to them.

They never came though, and my wriggling toes and clenched quads began to tell her everything she needed to know. I opened my eyes to look down at her, smiling there with spit on her chin and my rigid cock sliding through her balled up fist wetly. Was I gonna cum, she asked, faking an air of innocence. I asked nicely if she would let me. I had been good to her, she said, it was definitely my turn; she asked where I wanted to put it, shaking her shoulders slightly as a way of offering her her cleavage for a qualified target. I didn’t even need to voice my agreeance; she knew I loved her chest, and my pearly cum on her dark skin would be such a sight. She tucked an arm under them to push them up a little more for me, and told me to give her something to wear when I ate her out tonight, a slightly manic look in her eye telling me that she might really, really enjoy it if I’d kindly oblige, stroking me faster and faster until it was all I could do to grunt out a belabored ‘Fuck’; I trembled and shook with the effort of painting her chest with a comical volume of my cum, wracked by the gorgeous agony of the thing in a way that stole breath and reason in equal measure.

I obviously paid her back in kind, once the feeling returned to my legs. Where her knees had endured the rough carpet of her cheap apartment, I saw fit to suffer as she had, in solidarity; she sat at the very edge of her bed, legs spread wide, propped up on her elbows behind her. True to her word, she didn’t wipe a single drop of my cum off her the entire time I licked, kissed, sucked, and worshiped; I’m sure I saw her idly dabbing at it with her fingers, though my attention was dutifully dedicated almost entirely to making sure she came just the way she liked to.

There was an order, you see, to the way she needed to be eaten. There were 4 orgasms she would have, each requiring a different technique to elicit. The first was soft, and best produced by a soft pressure from the wide, flat top of my tongue; it was less of a lick and more of a “stick your tongue out at someone repeatedly” sort of thing. A minute or two was all this one required, and success was confirmed by an arched back and breathy sighs; quiet, comfortable, and reliable. The next all the time took some effort to get right; create up too fast and you’d risk painful overstimulation, so the buildup from soft kisses inside the thighs to long, probing licks needed to be clinically precise. I caught on with this one early, and was treated once again to the clenched fists and grinding expletives that this usually drew from her. The third, my favorite as much as hers, was best done with the aid of my thumbs rubbing along her lips while I rhymically sucked her prominent clit between my lips. This orgasm was most crucial, as it came from the deepest places within her; failure here was not an option, but her tightened tummy muscles, head thrown all the way back, and pointed dancer’s toes dangling to either side of me over the bedside told me I had done well. Last, but certainly not least, slow circles across the entire canvas paired with some affectionate comments on her taste, how gorgeous she looked with my cum on her, lots of hands on her body, and assurances that I would never get enough of this, would eventually produce the subtlest little trembles, as her exhausted body used whatever was left in the tanks to tickle her spine *just so* before she’d tuck into bed and drift off to a contented sleep.

I was one lucky motherfucker. Crammed against the wall in her tiny bed, her snoring softly in my arms, I reflected on how lucky I was. I’d made no effort to catch her eye at all, or flaunted any remarkable abundance of character to attract her, and yet here I was. My mind wandered, as it does, prompted by the sight of the towel I’d wiped her chest off with, sitting on her desk in the light of her alarm clock. She’d felt so good. So incredibly good. And the way she looked at me, right through me, while she jerked my cock off…unbelievable. Even so, we hadn’t actually fucked yet, and her bare ass pressed against me reminded me that my dick was so far doomed to be jealous of my tongue.

I began to harden, feeling my cock twitch beneath the covers all while unable to halt its progress until it was poking her firmly. This wouldn’t do at all; she’d taken the lead on everything up to that point, and I wasn’t gonna wake her up at 3:45am to ask for more now. I’d slip out, rub one out, and return before she knew it.

I crawled out carefully, not wanting to wake her, and made my way to the…living room. Dear reader, sense and sensibility abandoned me entirely to my own Darwinian stupidity and I decided that the best place to relieve myself was on the couch that she shared with 3 other people. So, as dumb as the good lord has built me, I settled down in the middle cushion and began to stroke myself, driven on by all the lascivious thoughts and invented scenarios I’d ever conjured, eyes closed and blissfully unaware. I lost myself there, in my abject horniness, for too long.

I was ripped entirely from my publicly private moments by a ‘what the fuck’ sort of sign to my right. Mortified, I looked over, dick in hand, to spot my girlfriend standing there; arms crossed, I might have believed she was upset if she hadn’t given up the act by chortling softly. I opened my mouth the explain, as if I possibly could, and she told me only to shut the fuck up, moving around the sofa to pry my hand from my cock.

Nothing further was said, but she gently pushed my legs wider, turned herself around, and guided me towards her descending pussy. Obediently, I fought to keep quiet as she worked gently up and down, wetting my cock inch by inch as she forced it into herself. Had she not drained me already, the effort to get it in would have ruined me, but eventually she worked the entire length pretty well in, and began to slide more effortlessly up and down. Her panting breaths in the dark were all the noise she made, and I did my best to match her. Up and down she rode, occasionally drawing tight circles with her hips while she faced away from me still.

“You can’t sneak out here,” she whispered back at me while she worked, “what would you do if you got cum on the couch?”.

I had no answer, but she wanted none to start with.

“I’m not going to have you cumming on the furniture. You’ll have to fill me up”. It was so quiet, I wasn’t sure I heard it at all.

“Come on then, fill me up”. There was no missing it that time.

She leaned forward a little, and I wrapped my big hands around her waist while she, as was her way, took control of me; obviously not too worried about the noise, she bounced, bucked, and bobbed away for another few minutes until I felt myself unavoidably crashed toward ecstasy.

“Come on baby, fill me up now”.

I did. I really did. If the objective of the game was not to get any on the couch, we failed miserably, as I continued to pump until it ran out of her, down my thighs, and onto the sofa and floor below. She found the whole thing riotously amusing, laughing aloud at the crime scene between her legs.

A kiss on my cheek, a smack on my ass, and she pushed me back down the hall while she cleaned up behind me. She returned, still chuckling, some minutes later.

“Just ask next time, you idiot”.

NSFW: yes

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