I had planned to meet Charlotte for just an hour, but her schedule freed up just a bit, and we had something more like three hours.
She was not a good girl in the hours leading up to the date.
She had neglected to let me choose her outfit. (And so I won’t describe to you what she wore, how she looked.)
She had forgotten her vibrator.
She had been mostly AWOL for much of the day.
At least initially, I was aiming to punish her. To deprive her. To make her feel regret.
As we sat down at the bar – I figured our time permitted a drink – I asked her what she might like me to order her. “I just want an old-fashioned,” she said.
The bartender came by: “She’ll have a glass of Sauvignon Blanc,” I said. “And I’ll have a Johnnie Walker Black on the rocks.”
“Why did you ask me what I wanted?!?!”
“I wanted to know what not to get,” I said.
She pouted. (Definitely a cute pout, Charlotte has….)
We drank. We chatted. Her voice was raspy, as she had just gotten over a not-COVID cold.
After not too long, we headed upstairs. The last few times I’ve been with Charlotte, I’ve felt the urge to fuck her at the beginning of our time together, but I’ve waited, preferring to lick her clit, to have her suck my cock, to engage in all the various other machinations I so enjoy with Charlotte. And then, somehow, although my ardor hasn’t diminished, my erection has – at least the erection with which I might fuck her. [This is familiar to me: my cock just isn’t as interested in fucking as it is in other activities. Never has been.]
This time, though, I figured I’d give Charlotte what I knew she wanted from me, what I know she feels has been lacking from me: my cock, in her cunt.
I didn’t wait long.
First, I had her lie on the bed. On her belly. Facing the foot of the bed. Fully clothed. Me? I undressed. To nude. (All my clothes are new, at the moment. Charlotte’s helped outfit me a bit. She has good taste, though a bit more monochrome than mine.) I walked to the foot of the bed, and, stroking my cock, I fed it to her. Briefly. Charlotte gamely licked, sucked, my cock. Which was hard. Which was really hard. I asked her to stand up. Or maybe I yanked her up by her hair. I’m not sure. In any event: “Undress,” I commanded her. “To your bra.” As she undressed, I rolled a condom on my cock, which was still hard.
She did as told, reverting to “good girl” form, once in the room with me.
I spun her around and threw her back on the bed, yanked her back toward me, and plunged my cock deep into her pussy, leaning forward as I pushed her head into the bed, hard. I won’t claim to have fucked Charlotte long, but I did fuck her hard. First, from behind as she lay on her belly. A bit, doggy-style. I flipped her over, and pounded my cock into her from above as well. And while – as I said – I won’t claim to have fucked her long, I did fuck her long enough for the sweat to pool on my bald head, to drip down my face, and into hers, as I pounded away above her.
I always find it hard to reckon sex time. I would guess the fucking was, say, ten or twelve minutes? from start to finish? Something like that. Not all that long. But long enough to give Charlotte what she honestly hadn’t gotten from me since we started seeing one another eight or nine months ago now. I don’t imagine she was sated, satisfied, with the fucking. (She gets regularly fucked, and fucked well, by guys who aren’t me.) But I wasn’t unhappy. And I don’t imagine she was. She came a few times in each position, IIRC.
After that stretch of time – that ten or twelve minutes – I lowered my head to Charlotte’s clit, and collected a few more orgasms that way. And then, I fetched my trusty rope….
Still with her head at the foot of the bed, I attached Charlotte’s feet to the headboard. She made a gesture to indicate a dissatisfaction with the slight asymmetry of her two legs. I adjusted her left leg, just a bit. Symmetry fixed. I wrapped another strand around her wrists, and tied them to the leg of the desk, a few feet away. I took out the ball gag I had bought, recently (after our very loud disturbance of neighbors on a previous date), and I placed it in her mouth, tightening the (faux?) leather strap behind her head. And I resumed licking her clit. A few more orgasms spilled forth on my face.
I raised myself above her, I looked down at her, and reached a hand down to her cunt. I slid first one, then two, then three fingers into her. I guided them in and out. (Turns out a ball gag does many things, but it definitely does not keep Charlotte quiet.) I slid them in and out more roughly, pressing my hand, hard, against her pubis as I did so. Maybe I kissed her. Maybe I slapped her face. There was a little face slapping somewhere in there – as well as some
spanking paddling. (“Oooh – I haven’t had that furry side before!” Charlotte said. Incorrectly.)
Somewhere along the line, it occurred to me that with her feet lifted, affixed to the headboard, tickling might be fun. I should say: I’ve never tickled anyone in a sexual context. And Charlotte never had been tickled in a sexual context. It did not take long for me to hear my first orange pushed out through the ball gag, muffled. “Ahhhrrrnjjjj.”
I gave Charlotte a break. I fingered her pretty cunt a bit more. And then, I tickled her again. This time, I got her somewhere I hadn’t gotten her, I believe. “RED!” Or really, more like, “RRRDDDDD.”
“RED?!?!?!?” I said. “Are you really calling things to a halt altogether?”
Charlotte nodded her head from side to side. “Ahrnj.”
A few more orgasms in this restrained position, and I untied Charlotte. Removed the ball gag. “It’s time for you to suck my cock some more,” I said. “For a long time,” I said.
I think I told her it would be twenty minutes or longer. I don’t think it was. But it was ten or so, at which point I said, “Flip around. I want your cunt on my face.” And Charlotte did as asked. (Good girl, again.)
The remainder of our time was spent like this, orgasm after orgasm coming from Charlotte – and each one, bringing her mouth away from my cock, making a simultaneous orgasm – which I think we’ll have the next time we try this particular maneuver. Because I’ll instruct Charlotte not to remove her head as she comes. Because I’ll hold her head down on my cock. Hard.
But this time, I didn’t. I slowed my tongue enough to allow Charlotte the focus to bring me to orgasm. Which. She. Did.
Her tongue really is a thing of spectacular beauty on the underside of my cock.
That is all.