The last time I swallowed a man’s cum was late morning on a Tuesday. Jesse’s just quiet enough to use his body, and the results were rich and warm.
Please pause before you message with words including “greedy cumwhore” or “good slut.” On the right day it’s wonderful, a little salty like butterscotch. Generally, too unctuous for my everyday, and I have no use for a gallon of it. A man’s cock in my mouth is annexed power, and for that 20 minutes, 45 minutes? Drool and coughing.
All of this is a love letter to myself, learning how to hold my cleaved self together. My favorite spot on me is smaller than a millimeter and on my upper left thigh. If you’ve taken a photo your friends and family tell you, “That’s a great pic.” Well, that’s how I feel about my spot. It looks like me all the way through.
My favorite snapshot of me is pink and has body curves piled high as a cumulus cloud. I lie on my stomach and run the back of my hand over my waist and ass, circling around my hips, feeling my soft skin.
Kitten. You’re the guy who lives for the unexpected 33% of the time. I remind you: I have all the unexpected weight of a Macy’s Thanksgiving float. Just when you think you can lead me someplace I will turn, and shock you with my might and presence. Neither of us will completely run the room.
I like when you pull my hair and bite me so sweetly that my skin starts to change color. I like when you delay things until my cunt is too big to touch. When I’m getting pushed around it’s me showing off. I’m spinning plates, or parallel parking on the first try, and the real bruises are satisfying evidence of a journey taken.
In the last year Jesse’s physicality has grown, I’ve been grabbing onto a rocket, and left me sometimes scorched and breathless.
He asked for me to be wearing a slip, and tight jeans.
My *lewk* for the day was my black humorless shapewear. I reserve it specifically for a navy blue dress which looks fantastic when it’s finally on, but fuck a duck it’s not a graceful process.
The spandex created order though some angles reveal me to be more wristwatch than hourglass, and the red lipstick and blindfold added flash. Jesse was excited to dress himself up, to wrap a cord around his balls and cock. His preferred outfit makes me squeamish as hell, which is an improvement on the empathetic fright I felt the first time I saw him like that.
He enjoys either multiple orgasms, or short refractory periods, or maybe his time with me is a prelude to a larger orgasm later? It’s a ~~small~~ matter of aesthetics–he prefers the band to be in dark colors.
Jesse turned me upside down and then finger fucked me. I was bent over and spanked, nipples grabbed like I like. He stopped me from touching my clit and fucked rough and unending. All my senses were too busy with the invasion and my body forgot to function.
This is when he lied, and I lied right back, which I suppose is not shocking. I’m not sure how casual is supposed to end, but I reminded myself last week communicating is for adults, and ghosting is for midgets.
I sucked Jesse some more; finally this trussed up man asked where I wanted him to cum. Yes, in my mouth. I take all I can, then stopped, then because he was tied up and still hard, went back for more.
It wasn’t the last time I saw Jesse; since then I’ve gotten to stand above him in my bed, with every intention of taking him by his hair and making him kiss my favorite millimeter. He crooked an eyebrow at me, did not pretend to look at anything but my pussy, and put his thumb over my clit.
To reframe the narrative: what do I want? I light up so bright and want your cock deep inside my cunt, and in my mouth, cum in my throat, your hands pulling my hair and scalp tingling, and someone rubbing my clit. I can scarcely hold still long enough to register how much can be achieved.
What do I want? Understanding of the difference between “thorough” and “vigorous.” I want you to be almost a soccer hooligan, 30+ and feminist. I can compromise on everything but “thorough” and “feminist.”
This is all I know–my outgoing introverted nature, my desires and eat-me-alive libido paired with how much I like men’s bodies. I am a staunch woman, a real deal. I like being fucked, being licked, feeling a man up to his elbow inside me.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6exb2k/fm_tbh_not_that_dirty_just_like_writing_about_my
The Padgett Powell of porn. Nice!