So I was at Stanstead airport, leaning casually on the the arrivals’ railings with a cardboard S’fucks (scalding the already over-roasted blend), feeling an apprehensive pang in my stomach. Yeah, I wasn’t casual at all. Everyone fucking knew what I was doing – there’s no way you can hide that. The facial reactions always give it away. You can always tell the “nervous to meet because it’s a fuck liaison” in any situation: restaurants, cafés, bars, buses…libraries…you get the picture; body language is a whole other post. Yet, this time really was different; it wasn’t just some booty call – I really wanted to know this girl.
Finding someone with which small talk doesn’t ever exist
I had finished the coffee, but I wasn’t binning the dregs. I wanted something to hold on to as she walked through the doors and up to me – a distraction, something to “do” with my hands. We met without much fuss: a brief hug and swift peck on the cheek, I offered and took her bag to make sure both my grips were tied up. We caught up on things as we walked. I mainly listened, falling under a thick spell as her tones enveloped my mind. She truly was bewitching. My car was ambitious for my salary at the time and I was slightly smug at the faintest twinge of impressed expression. I liked driving. I liked how I looked when I drove: visualising a third person view of how concentrated and controlled I was. Like every boy, I knew that nothing turned a girl on more than “on the limit driving” (this fact requires no citation…I’m sure you follow). The motorway back into London is a bitch of a tease in early evening, too – the sun catches the city’s skyline in all the colours of the spectrum and it made an oil painting of hues for C’s first glimpse of the capital.
So, okay, all that aside, there was a bit of small talk, but the conversation soon turned to the night ahead. She was wearing these tight, black leggings that seemed to pull my eyes across her thighs. Her unzipped jacket’s fall interrupted by her chest under the white, tank top. I was, to my shame actually, already straining at my zip. The culmination of my heart racing, accelerated adrenaline, the worry – yes, worry – of being able to perform to my best, and her being in touching distance, was confusing the hell out of my dick. It didn’t know whether it was needed now or not. I had to take control of the situation and, whilst I could count on the scenery of Walthamstow to reverse my erection, my body needed something assertive to calm it down. I turned to some of my own advice. About five traffic lights into town there was a break in the conversation – perfect. I turned to her and she to me. I reached out and brushed her hair back over her ear, saying nothing; just holding the connection with my gaze. Letting all my thoughts pour into her. Expressing that I already knew everything that was going to happen and that it was definitely going to be good. Lights green, I looked ahead once more.
The “Manor” has one of the best fucking beds [semantically speaking]
I let her explore the room by herself while I waited in the lobby. I wanted her to have some space to freshen up after the flight and figured it impolite to sit around watching. C reappeared after not too long. She made the whole room look; walking towards me in this blue and white polka dot dress she made that instant hers forever. The evening moved on. We had a few drinks in and about Shoreditch, generally people watching and ripping Hipsters. Some good food. All the stuff you pull as a prequel. I’m always one for starting foreplay early. Super early. I’d kept it at strong flirting: the touches, the looks, the “what I’m going to do when we’re back” lines. Now I just had to come through with my word.
I’d toyed with the idea of making her keep the dress on – seeing her riding me with it still hanging from her was in my mind’s eye…but there was plenty of time for something like that in the future. Instead, I was unbuttoning the front, kissing down to the top of her collar bone as I edged it from her shoulders. She guided me to the zip at her side and, with that, it fell away. I stepped back. C was every bit beautiful, with hips that pulled her pure white underwear into a model’s curve on the canvas of tanned skin. I popped the buttons on my shirt, one by one, never looking away from her. Her palms met my chest as she leaned forward to kiss me. My hands wrapped around her and into the small of her back. My deft fingers pulling her bra clasp together and slowly apart – always my smoothest move – drawing the straps steadily down her arms, drifting slightly to let it fall to the floor. I took her closer to me. She explored my back, feeling the ripples under my skin near my shoulder blades and following my spine to the base and then my belt round to my fly. Our lips didn’t part for a second as she slackened my jeans so they, too, were no longer an obstacle. Guiding her back, I lowered her to the bed. She tossed her brunette locks so they cascaded across the crisp duvet. My tips pulled her laced frenchies away as I drew back to stand up. C’s eyes were darting between mine, my lips, and my boxers; willing me to take them off. So I did. Edging the elastic floorwards as she took in the body stood before her. After the slowest exposé I’d ever given was complete, I let her take stock: me, gazing down across her flawless curves; her, eyes wide to the contours of muscle and erection.
I wanted to go down on her – I love it so much, but I also wanted the first thing she felt inside her to be my cock. So I teased. I teased so very tantalisingly. My fingers were electrified as they navigated across her skin. Dividing to run smoothly either side of her pussy. The pressure applied just enough to send a sensation throughout her body. I had knelt onto the bed, leaning in to kiss the attractive birthmark on her stomach. I let my cock rest heavily on the hood of her clit and navel as my lips turned their attention to her breasts. In turn kissing the delicate undersides in ever decreasing circles until so close as so to run my tongue around her nipples without ever touching them. Her breathing lets me know that she wants the warmth of my mouth. I allow it. Rising up again, and with a spread palm to the centre of her chest, my left hand motions her to pause and wait. My right grips at the base of my shaft, dipping the head of my cock between her lips and using her wetness to slide up and flick across her clit. Her accented, soft whimper spurs me on…
My hands glide up to C’s wrists and press them into the bedsheets as I push inside her for the first time. We kiss. I’m only in by an inch or so. I edge back out and in again…just a little further. She kisses me eagerly – her legs folding around me to pull me closer. Still I don’t let her have all of me. Every stroke goes one deeper, pausing ever so slightly with each retreat. I’m so hard she can feel the blood pumping through my veins. Finally, I give in and thrust into her completely. She breaks my kiss and arches her head back for air. I move to wrap my arms above her head…she looks at me…I can see what she wants. Without looking away, I start to fuck her. Her pupils widen as I become unrelenting in rhythm. She stretches out her arms and begins to tear at the duvet, her voice of pure sex compelling me to never, ever want to stop. I tangle my elbows behind her knees and find the spot that makes her say my name for the first time. I can feel her pussy grabbing at me, my cock throbbing inside her every time our pelvises meet. A bead of sweat begins to trickle over my brow as my breathing grows heavy. I’m fucking her so, so hard. Pulling almost completely out with every stroke so as to hit as many sensitive nerves as I can. Then, she sends me over the edge. C looks up at me, breathless, between moans, eyes begging: “I’m gonna come…” Just the thought of it sent a shockwave through my body. Her thighs started trembling. And then…she did. I didn’t fucking hesitate. I exploded into her. Her pussy squeezing at me for more. I kissed her neck. We rolled to the side. We just stayed there. Both catching our breath. Both momentarily exhausted. Both briefly satisfied. Only briefly, mind.
It’s pretty late. But I’d only just begun.
Neither of us are finished yet.
I suggest we take a shower…
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Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1lsf9v/that_time_i_never_wanted_to_stop_part_two_the