I can see your breath as we run to the street corner to hail a cab. You’re holding my hand and we’re laughing – the sound echoes, mixed with the wet slapping of our feet on snow-covered pavement.
I’ve been breathless since I met you. Your eyes, so full of mischief, so easy to get lost in while we sat in a dingy dive bar nursing a shared pitcher of cheap beer. I’ve loved men like you before. You’re like shooting stars – so brilliant and brief and leaving lasting impressions on my heart, as well as between my legs.
I knew I was going to fuck you from the minute we said hello. I’m not one to shy away from sex on the first date, and I told you as much, smirking at you over the rim of my glass. I thought you were going to spit out your drink. I suppose you haven’t met many women like me, women who are honest with their intentions and open with their sexuality. I assure you, there are more of us out there than you think.
So we agreed to go back to my place once the flirting turned not so innocent and the air grew thick with need. Our intention to walk the short distance to my small apartment quickly changed when we stepped out into the frigid December air.
A cab finally pulls over and we get inside, huddling together as I give the driver my address. Your hand finds mine again and you begin to trace patterns on my palm. I can barely contain myself as each gentle stroke of your fingers sends shockwaves through my body, directly between my legs. You’re warm and solid and I can feel my need growing from a throb to a gnawing ache. I want to kiss you, but I don’t know if it’s the right time yet. I’m always in my head about these things.
Soon enough, the cab pulls up in front of my building, the snow beginning to fall from the sky in earnest. We dash inside and I fumble my key with frozen fingers before the door finally relents and we’re inside. We giggle as we wait for the elevator, and when its metal doors grind open, I step inside with you right behind me. Turning around, I lean against the wall and smile at you, my tongue slipping out to pointedly dance along my bottom lip. I see your eyes flick down to watch me, and then you’re crossing the elevator in one stride to press your body against mine.
Before I can react, your mouth is on mine, your tongue exploring. My body instantly responds, arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer as we kiss. I can feel your arousal already, hard and insistent against my thigh. Your hands move down to cup my ass and I whimper into your mouth. I can’t remember the last time I was this horny, all I can think about is getting you back to my bed so I can impale myself on your throbbing cock.
The elevator doors open with a ding as we reach my floor, and we stare at each other for a moment before we exit. My apartment is at the end of the hallway and we break into a run, trying to keep down the noise of our laughter so as not to disturb my neighbors. You’re beautiful to me in that moment. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look more excited or carefree and I hope that my face mirrors the joy I’m seeing in yours.
I make quick work of the lock and then we’re inside, shutting the door, reaching for each other and crashing into the walls as we tangle ourselves together again. Your hands are everywhere, groping and squeezing and fondling, making my body sing. I’ve never felt anything so electric, never tasted anything as sweet as your tongue.
We undress each other, driven by the need to feel skin against skin. When I’m finally naked and pressing my breasts into your chest, I feel you shudder. Your cock is fully erect and smearing pre-cum against my thigh as we hold each other. You push my shoulder and I fall onto the bed, spreading my legs and grinning wickedly.
You grip my thighs and spread me wider, leaning down and inhaling the sweet scent of my arousal. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, watching your pupils blow wide when you scent me. You move deliberately and I clench with anticipation. When you finally delve your tongue between my lips and gather my nectar on your tongue, the broken moan that erupts from my mouth is the unholiest sound I’ve ever made.
Your tongue slips and slides against me, circling and flicking against my clit, dipping down to plunge inside me. I grip your head and grind into your face, the muscles of my thighs and stomach fluttering rapidly. My eyes roll back and I close them so I can focus entirely on how good your tongue feels on my cunt. You don’t relent until you make me cum, and when it happens it hits me like a tidal wave. You hold me still as I ride wave after wave of pleasure, then you crawl up over my body to kiss me and I taste myself on your tongue.
I giggle into our kiss and flip you onto your back, straddling you and capturing your lips with mine again. I lace my fingers with yours and guide your hands behind your head, silently imploring you to keep them there. I work my way down over your body, licking, kissing, and nipping your skin, getting closer to your cock. Eyes locked on yours, I wrap my fingers lightly around you and lick the underside from base to tip before taking the head into my mouth and sucking. I use my lips and tongue to wet your cock, and then slowly slide you into my throat, flexing around you as my tongue slips out to tickle your balls.
The sounds you’re making are driving me higher, spurring me on, making me feel so powerful. There’s nothing more satisfying than watching a man writhe and moan and lose control, driven toward his need like an animal toward prey. You are sex in a bottle and I’m completely drunk on you.
Pulling off with a pop, I move back up and straddle you, the tip of your cock bumping against my cunt as I line you up. I sink down, slowly, enveloping you in my wet heat, stretching around you, growing accustomed to this welcome invasion of my body. What comes next is frantic, grinding and bouncing, your hands first stinging my tits and ass with slaps and then soothing with caresses. The obscene and sacred wet slapping as our bodies meet. I’m lost in a sea of my own making and you’re my only anchor as wave after wave of pleasure crashes into me.
We climax together, holding onto each other to ride it out. Connected. You flood my womb with rope after rope of thick, sweet cum and my pussy flutters around you, milking every drop.
This is what our bodies were designed to do. There’s purpose in this pleasure. Whoever decided sex is only for procreation is doing it wrong because what we just did was the highest and most base form of entertainment.
Your breath ghosts across my lips as we come down, and I press one more kiss to your mouth as I pull you out of me. I wince slightly at the loss and then settle down beside you, spent. You hold my hand again, tickling my palm, and I close my eyes.
I know that in the morning, you’ll be gone. That we may or may not see each other again. That sex like this can be both a beginning and an end. But I don’t care. We made each other feel good in the moment and nothing can diminish that.
As our bodies cool and our hearts trade the staccato beat of passion for regularity, I drift off to sleep sated and comfortable.
Sex isn’t really complicated, after all, and reality has never been welcome in my bedroom.
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