And the next time…

“May I minister to your body a bit?” I asked.

“Sure,” Jen said.

She was wearing a soft, flowing skirt, and a tank top over a metallic, ornate bra. “How do you want me?” she asked.

“Just lie on your back.”

She did. I moved around behind her, and caressed her face. Her eyes were closed, her hair, long, flowing, lay in pools on her pillow. I rubbed her temples, I traced the outline of her lips. I moved around to her side, so I could reach more of her body. “You have such a hot body,” I said, admiring her hourglass curves.

She smiled softly.

I dragged my left hand down and traced the outline of her bra, along her pale breasts. With my right hand, I traced a line down her blouse, toward her belly, where I stopped, and pressed, just a little. I reached inside her bra and touched one of the rings that have given her so much trouble. I squeezed her breast gently, and my right hand drifted lower, between her legs, and pressed against her pussy, through her skirt, through her panties. I pressed hard against her clit, through layers of fabric. Her pussy was hot – so hot I could feel the heat radiating out even through all the clothes.

She absent-mindedly started to stroke my cock, through my jeans, through my boxers. I was hard. My jeans were uncomfortable. I was shifting around, trying to get more comfortable.

“You want to take these off?” she said.

I did.

I took off my jeans, and my socks. (I never violate the socks-no-pants rule.)

I lifted her skirt, higher, higher, until her panties (white cotton, with pastel polka dots) were exposed. I pressed against the panties hard with my right hand. I brought my left hand down and pressed on her pubis, below her belly, as I pressed on her clit, pushed into her pussy. “Whatever you’re doing down there, it feels GREAT!” she said.

I kept going. Her lips and tongue were starting to look as if they wanted my cock. I pulled her panties down, off, and I dove down, taking her clit between my lips, and pressing my tongue against it. She moaned, softly. I slid a finger into her pussy and tapped the roof, stroking her g-spot gently. Her hips were rolling to meet me, to guide me. I moved my mouth back up, my cock back up, and slid my cock into her mouth, which was waiting, hungrily. She licked the head. She wrapped her whole mouth around me. She took me deep into her mouth as I pulled her head toward me.

My cock in her mouth, my fingers in her cunt, I asked, “Which do you want, my tongue or my cock in your pussy?”

She thought about it.

“Those are two such good options,” she moaned, as I fingered her, my cock alongside her cheek. “I think I want your cock, though,” she said. “It’ll feel so good.”

Once more, I dove down, licking her cunt. She’s sweet-tasting, sweet-smelling, a gentle, mild smell and taste. And I walked over to grab a condom from my bag.

I put the condom on and slid my cock into her, slowly. I wasn’t going to cum unexpectedly this time – I knew it. I was in perfect control. I fucked her – hard, slow, gentle, fast – for about ten minutes. “How did you get so good at sex?” she asked, at one point. I was flattered. Was she just flattering me? Of course, there’s an answer: I’ve had a lot of it. I don’t know if it’s made me good, but I’ve certainly had a lot of practice.

It was hot. I was still wearing my shirt. Sweat was pouring off of me, dripping onto her face, her chest, as we fucked. I tried to keep it out of her eyes, but there was a lot of it. We kissed, gently, while I was sliding in and out. I pulled her down by her head, I pressed into her, rolled onto her. “You feel so fucking good,” I said. “I love your pussy.”

I looked at my watch. I knew I had to go. I had set a time by which I would leave (I had an appointment to get to), and the time was approaching. I moved each of my legs outside of hers, and squeezed her legs together, even as my cock stayed inside her, in modified missionary position. “Touch your clit,” I said.

As I rocked deep into her, as her eyes rolled back, as her two hands sank to her clit, I exploded, cumming hard, loud.

“Right on time,” she said. “You know, I was proud last time when you came so quick.”

She grabbed me a towel to mop up my sweat, my cum. We kissed goodbye, and I was gone.


  1. Not to belittle the hotness of that post, but can I just say, “thank you for taking the socks off!”
    I don’t get the keep the socks on thing…I watch porn(tho rarely) and the guy is buck naked but wearing white tennis socks…WTF?
    Rest of the post, had me panting. Thank you.

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