The First Time:
I had recently turned nineteen. I had recently fallen in to a torrid relationship with a girl a year older than I (it didn’t feel torrid at first, but it got that way). She was much more experienced than I and I felt both daunted and turned on by this, because she really seemed to want me, this relatively inexperienced guy who she’d met at a party several weeks before. She had dark black hair, pale skin, chain-smoked, listened to 90s metal bands like Queen of the Stone Age.
We made out on her friend’s couch-bed. Actually, we were crossing the making out border and ignoring customs. We both just wore t-shirts and our underwear. Our bare legs were entwined. I was really hard. We were dry humping. I got excited whenever she made a gaspy-breathy sound. I decided it was time. I made my way down to her boxers. Yeah, she wore boxers. I pulled them down. Under her boxers were black panties. It was like going through levels in a videogame (no it wasn’t, but anyway). I slipped off her boxers. She raised her legs so I could take them off. She was going to let me do this. I buried my face in her pussy. I made one big licking motion up her clit and across her pubes. I went back down. It was dark, so I couldn’t see much, and anyway, my eyes were closed for most of the time. I did another large lick. I felt her legs spazzing around a little and heard her exert these fluttery pleasure sounds. I licked her a third time, then a fourth. On the fourth, one of her vag lips unfolded and I tasted her juices for a second. On the fifth lick I got about halfway up before she folded her legs together and grabbed my head and guided me up to her face. We kissed and I thought of how interesting it was that apparently girls didn’t care if you had just been going down on them; they would still kiss you afterwards.
Five years later. The 25th-30th time.
I’m with the girl I’m seeing in her Brooklyn apartment. We get in to her room and lie down on her bed. We keep kissing. She’s a black woman, hair in a bun, tall, teaches preschool kids, trying to learn guitar. I haven’t been with a girl in a while and the first thing I want to do is go down on her. I unhook her jeans and finger her. She starts moaning. I get her started that way. Then I slide down. I pull down her pants. I remove her pink panties. She laughs awkwardly. Her nervousness turns me on. I want to make her feel so good that she stops being nervous.
I eat her pussy. I move my head in semi-circles, my tongue flicking from side to side on her clit. I keep my fingers rotating around, pushing in and out below my tongue the entire time. I keep listening to her above me: uh uh uh, fuck, uh, uh… and I keep licking. About halfway through she surprises me. She folds her thighs around my head. My hearing disappears. I just feel her soft skin clamped against either ear, pushing me further in to her pussy. It makes me lick harder. Her ankles bounce off my back. She’s losing control of her movements. She keeps her legs like that for a while.
Then she releases them. I look up across her chest and watch her tits bobbing up and down and her head cocked back, mouth open. She touches the top of my head with one of her hands. Then she closes her legs over me again. More silence.
Five Years Later. The 40th-50th time.
…said silence is broken between lighter skinned thighs five years on, when I’m in the bed of a woman ten years older than me, in her apartment that she owns, under her sheets.
If you observed this scene from the doorway of the bedroom, what you’d see is two bony feet sticking out of the white down comforter and a red-haired, freckled woman sticking out of the other end, her head pressed into the pillow her husband bought her before their divorce, eyes shut, mouth open and gasping. Her head writhes backwards as she arches her lower body upwards. She keeps one arm under the pillow and the other arm writhing around under the comforter, massaging an unseen object between the narrowing pillars of her knees.
That unseen object is my head, unseen because I’m buried in her cunt. My fingers flick in and out of her folds but all I feel is liquid swirling around them. They flick against her thigh but her thigh has been splashed upon. Her hand releases from my head and her legs seize together around my forehead. They miss my ears. I can hear the rustling of her sheets and the sudden halt of her moans. Not like with the Brooklyn girl. Now I can sense everything.
I can sense, as I draw back under the sun-wet comforter, that I’ve made this woman forget about her loneliness just for a tiny bit.
I will never stop eating pussy.
(Tell your stories. First time contrasted with later time.)
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/5myv2i/adventures_in_eating_pussy_mf
Not bad stuff.