Standing there in his ratty, old T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops; I’m caught a little off-guard. I’ve known this man intimately for months. I come to his home two, sometimes three days a week to have sex with him. Most days I find him naked in bed with damp, rumpled hair and sheets, with only a slight erection.
This afternoon I’m sitting on my deck waiting for him to arrive. It’s warm and sunny with a slight breeze. My black T-shirt and jeans hug all of my curves. The Red Stripe I’ve been nursing for the last half an hour is no longer drinkable.
When I look up and see him walking toward me, it amazes me once again that this man is still in my life. This man who fucked me twenty minutes after meeting me in the wee hours of the morning in early February after answering my Craigslist advertisement. I had been looking for sex. There was about a foot of snow on the ground that night, and I stayed over because he kept waking me up, throwing me on my side, and slowly inching his cock into my ass all while kissing my neck making sure we were breathing in sync.
As he stands on the steps leading to my back deck, his eyes hungrily take me in as he asks, “Why aren’t you upstairs? Naked?”
I walk over, kiss him lightly on his forehead, and offer him a beer even though he’s here for a quickie and doesn’t ever drink much. Over the course of the four months we’ve been lovers, he has never been to my house. Week in week out, I come to him.
Leading up to our most recent rendezvous, I woke up with a text reading, Morning cock? After fighting rush hour traffic to get to him, I stripped down, padded up to his room in bare feet, climbed into bed with him and opened my mouth to whisper good morning. “Suck that cock,” his tone is both forceful and playful with his impish grin giving him away. Gently at first, I do as I’m told.
As I take him in my mouth, I lightly stroke his stomach and inner thighs with my fingertips. The sucking is much like a baby with a pacifier while he’s still soft. The short, fast sucks get him most of the way there, and he pulls me on top of him so he can dig his face in my pussy.
His tongue digs in. The strokes are short, crisp as if my wetness is his favorite flavor of ice cream. He pulls me deeper down into his face and pumps his cock deep into my mouth. I can only deep-throat him a few times without gagging. As the head of his cock bangs the back of my throat, I wiggle my hips and press into his face.
It’s time to inch down and ride him reverse cowgirl. I know he wants more 69, but I have to have him inside me. I push into his cock slowly, rhythmically. I feel my muscles wrap tightly around him, deep inside. His fingers push their way into my tight asshole, and I speed up, taking him in both my holes.
“Get on your knees,” I hear behind me. He almost growls his command. Roughly, he pushes my chest and neck into the mattress while kicking my knees out and feet together. My ass right where he wants it, I feel his saliva drip between my cheeks and then the tip of his cock enters me. “Do you want me to fuck that asshole of yours?”
As I moan and cry out, “Yes. . . .” I can hear the pleading whimper in my voice. “Fuck me,” comes out as a desperate whisper. He pushes into me. He pulls back. He angles my hips so he can thrust that much deeper.
“Do you want me to cum in your ass?” This time I want his cum all over my face and neck. “You want me to fuck you like a porn star?” I do. I do. He’s alternating between my dripping pussy and my tight, throbbing asshole. His thrusting is deep, hard, and fast. I cannot get enough of his cock.
When he pulls out to cum, I take his warm, salty discharge on my outstretched chin, mouth, and cheek. Mmmmm. I feel it drip down my neck. My hands are rubbing my pussy raw as he heads to the bathroom, and I cum there all alone.
Today he’s in my territory.
After showing him the lay of the land, he removes my decorator pillows from my bed and crawls right in. I’m a little embarrassed that it’s only a double—his large frame barely fits—but it’s a comfortable bed and he’s not there to sleep anyway.
He reaches down between my legs as I nibble his ear and neck. Groaning slightly, he rolls me on my back and enters me. As he thrusts harder, I arch my back up and he cups his hands under my ass. “I’m going to fuck you good, little slut.” His pet names for me should bother me, or so I’ve been taught in graduate school and by the media, but I understand it’s his desire to be dirty. I’m his whore, and I love playing that role.
In an instant I’m back on my knees, getting my forehead ground into the antique headboard as he’s fucking me hard from behind. The bed is so small, that I envision his feet dangling over the footboard as he fucks me harder, harder, harder.
“Fuck!” The word cracks from deep within him. He cums quickly, and I feel the waves of his fluids shoot into my body. We are spent. Damp. Breathing heavy. It’s time for him to leave.
And so he does.