On Her Own, Part 1 [MF]

Lily was only 19, and new to the city. She had been one of the best students in her class, but she never had the chance to apply for colleges. Her father had passed on when she was only 7; her mother struggled with cancer for years. Lily learned to take care of her mother, and eventually got a job at a cafe when she was a senior in high school. Her mother’s disability checks, her father’s life insurance, and this meager income were hardly enough in the face of mammoth hospital bills and the cost of living for two people. After she graduated from high school, she had no hope of leaving her mother to go to college. She took on as many extra hours at the cafe as they’d give her, and spent the rest of her time looking after her mother.

When her mother died last year, she couldn’t afford to stay at the small rural house she’d grown up in. She found an apartment within easy walking distance from the cafe where she worked. She kept her car, but tried not to drive it much; gas and maintenance were expensive on her budget. She still got monthly payouts from her parents’ insurance, otherwise she couldn’t even afford the apartment. She had wanted to find a roommate, but she didn’t really have any friends. She hadn’t had time for fun, only school and work and tending to her mother.

She’d never even had a boyfriend. She wasn’t bad to look at, at all. She was slim, with long, dark brown hair that waved and curled its way past her shoulders. Long lashes hid big hazel eyes that were a touch too world-weary for her age. Her nose was long but elegant, her lips a delicate pink against her fair skin. She rarely wore any makeup. She’d never had the opportunity to date, and besides, makeup cost money.

She favored thrift-store dresses that were usually comfortable, if a bit ill-fitting, skirts falling below her knees. They rarely flattered her chest and she privately wished her breasts were larger. Perhaps now she’d have the opportunity to find clothes that suited her, maybe showed off a little more. She was all alone now; and now that her mother wasn’t around anymore, she realized she’d been lonely for a very long time. She’d never had a chance to explore relationships with other people, sexual or otherwise.

For her first few months in her apartment, she felt too shy, and too full of grief and anxiety, to try to get out and meet any new people. But as the weeks wore on, she found herself longing for some kind of human contact. In bed at night, she would touch herself and imagine having someone to touch her. Someone to cling to, someone who could make her feel this electric thrill.

The only time she had any people around was when she was at work, and though her bosses and coworkers were nice, she didn’t know how to make friends with them outside the cafe. Otherwise she spent her days alone, and day by day she longed even more for someone’s company, for someone’s touch.

The laundry room at the apartment building was in the basement. There were no apartments down there, just storage space, a boiler room and the other secret internal organs of a living building. The elevator came down from the upper floors and opened onto the hallway, and from the hallway a single door led to the laundry room. It was always open and had two washing machines and two dryers. She’d run into other tenants down there a few times. She was too shy to say anything other than an embarrassed “Hi,” and quickly scoop her clothes out of the dryer and retreat to her apartment.

The first time she had the room to herself, she made a happy discovery. The sort of discovery that young ladies often make in regards to clothes dryers. She decided since the room was empty, that she’d stay there and read until her clothes were ready. Leaning up against the dryer gave her that first thrill, that reminded her of her nights alone in bed. After trying a few different positions, she determined that facing the dryer and pressing against it just *so*, leaning a little over the top of it, produced the ideal vibrations in the ideal spot. Self-conscious, glancing over her shoulder at the door occasionally, she didn’t stay there for long.

But the next time she was down there alone, she chanced it a little more. The elevator in the hallway wasn’t loud, but she hoped she could hear the ding of the door opening in case anyone came down. So, in blue jeans and a t-shirt, she pressed her mound against the dryer as it shook and spun, warm and gentle. After a while she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, revelling in the vibrations as they coursed through her.

She was almost surprised when she came. She felt she had been drifting off, as if to sleep. Her orgasm shook her hard and brought her rapidly to her senses. She glanced around guiltily, but the laundry room was still empty. She felt wet, and brought her hand to her crotch, thinking she might have soaked through and left a damp stain on her jeans. They were dry, though, and she didn’t run into anyone in the hallways on her way back up to her apartment, anyway.

The thrill of getting off in a public place, even a semi-public place like that, gave her chills. Later that night, she masturbated thinking about it. She very much wanted to do it again.

The next time she did laundry, she shared the room with an older lady, who she thought lived on the fourth floor. She didn’t make conversation, and Lily found herself disappointed that she didn’t have a chance to be alone down there. She was ashamed at her own disappointment, but she still found herself looking forward to the next laundry day–just in case.

And that day, she found the laundry room empty. She was wearing a brown dress that almost looked the color of leather, though it was a light cotton. It had a square-cut neckline (that fitted a little too loosely over her breasts) and short sleeves; the hem came right to her knees. She almost felt guilty at the rush of glee she got upon discovering she had the room to herself. Almost. She’d brought a book with her, but she didn’t think she’d be reading in the laundry room today.

While she waited for the first load to wash, she couldn’t help but run her hands over her body in anticipation. She pressed her hand briefly against her pussy through the layers of her dress and her panties. She ran her fingers over her dress, down her sides, down her thighs, back up to her breasts. She tried sitting on the washing machine, but it wasn’t quite the same. It didn’t make her feel like her first true love did.

Finally, the load was done and she transferred it to the dryer. She found herself getting wet as she started it, thinking of that first machine-assisted orgasm she’d had. Within minutes, she was pressing her crotch against it, feeling its heat. The machine trembled against her, as if responding to her longing. She began to grind slowly side to side, pressing harder against it. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers over the fabric of her dress again. Over her belly. Squeezing her breasts. Little grunts of pleasure emanated from the back of her throat as she clung to the side of the machine. She lost track of time as she fondled herself languorously and worked her pussy against the dryer.

A noise beside her snapped her back to reality. She jumped, and turned to see a man in the room with her! She hadn’t heard the door, or anything until he’d set a plastic laundry basket down on the chairs along the wall. He was tall, unshaven, with short brown hair. “Oh my god!” she exclaimed, turning around as though she could find somewhere to hide. Her face turned bright crimson.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said slowly, carefully.

“Oh my god,” she said again, turning to rush toward the door. “I’m so sorry!” She tried not to look at him, to hide her face.

“Your–” he began, but the door was already closing behind her. “Your laundry’s not done,” he said to the empty room.

She forgot to check the clock when she got back to her apartment. How long had it been? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? She was mortified. She didn’t know what she’d do if she had to face him. She thought he was super cute, and she’d made a total fool of herself.

She slunk back down the hall to the elevator and rode it to the ground floor. Stepping out, the basement hallway was vacant. So far so good. She stepped lightly over to the door to the laundry room. She pushed it open slowly, half-wincing. She sighed with relief when the man wasn’t there. The washing machine was gurgling quietly to itself, but the dryer had stopped. She flung it open, finding her laundry unperturbed, and shoved it quickly into her basket. She turned to flee, and caught a glimpse of her book sitting on the chair by the wall. She snatched it up and hurried out.

She didn’t run into anyone in the hallway and she began to relax, back in her apartment. She started folding her laundry, but every time she thought of what her neighbor had caught her doing, her face turned beet red. She would get turned on thinking about it, and then immediately aghast at her poor timing. She resolved not to use the laundry room for that again. How she’d ever handle it if she ran into him somewhere in the building, she couldn’t guess. Probably just commit seppuku on the spot.
After she put away her clothes, Lily sat down to actually read a little of her book and get her mind off her embarrassment. She had been using a scrap of paper as a bookmark. Opening to the bookmark, she saw that it had been written on. She looked at it curiously. In black ink, it read, “Let me know if you ever need help with your laundry – Trevor.”

Below that it had his apartment number, and a phone number.

Lily began to smile, and when her face flushed this time it wasn’t out of embarrassment.

*****

Even though she told herself he was clearly interested, it was hard for her to work up the courage to text him. She debated whether she should text him immediately, and decided not to. He lived on the second floor, and she lived on the third. She was tempted to go knock on his door, but she didn’t know if he lived alone. What if he was married, or had a girlfriend? She debated for days without making a move. It was finally a week later when she had actual laundry to do that she decided to go for it.

Assuming he’d be able to deduce who it was, she simply texted, “Laundry day.” And then she waited.

Less than ten minutes later, her phone buzzed. “I’ll be home in about half an hour.”

Her heart was thumping in her chest. This was all brand new to her. Half an hour . . . if she went and started her laundry, she’d still be down there by the time he arrived. She decided to go have a look, and found the laundry room unoccupied. Nervously, she loaded the washer and started it. She’d chosen her shortest skirt, admittedly not very short. It stopped above her knees and showed off her smooth, toned legs. It was a dark grey, and flared a bit. She’d never had much in the way of clingy, form-fitting clothes, but wished she had. She didn’t own any underwear that she thought were sexy, either. She wore her blue bra, the only one that sort of pushed up her boobs and made them look half-decent. She didn’t have matching panties so she went with simple white ones. Over her bra she wore a tight yellow t-shirt that was just short enough to expose a little of her belly when she raised her arms.

In her room, she had turned this way and that in front of her mirror, wishing she had sexier clothes. Now she waited in the laundry room, and she texted Trevor, “Just got started in the basement. Hope no one else comes in.” She followed it with a heart emoji and almost sent it, but deleted the heart and sent a winking emoji instead. She didn’t know she could be so nervous.

After a few minutes, she got another message from him. “On my way.”

She waited until the washing machine stopped, and transferred her clothes to the dryer. Starting it, she strained to hear the sound of the elevator door, but no one was coming. She was too nervous to play with herself to pass the time. She was starting to think this was a terrible idea. Should she just go and hide in her apartment and come back later for her clothes? No, he was already on his way. She’d invited him. Just wait.

Finally, the door opened. She had been standing next to the dryer, and turned quickly to face the machine, not looking to see who came in. She rested her hands on top of the dryer, trying to look casual. It might still have been anyone. It could be the weird old guy from downstairs. She wasn’t sure if she was afraid that it *would* be Trevor, or that it *wouldn’t*.

Then she heard his voice. “Waiting for me?” he said, confidently.

She didn’t turn around. She tossed her head to the side, but she thought she might lose her nerve if she looked at him. She wasn’t sure what to say, or if she could say anything without a nervous tremble in her voice. She almost jumped as his hand appeared on her shoulder. His lips materialized next to her ear as he murmured, “I’m glad nobody else showed up.”

“Me, too,” she whispered, wondering if she sounded as nervous as she felt. His other hand touched her other shoulder, and he began slowly caressing her arms. As he stood behind her, he paused briefly to draw her hair back from her ear, and leaned his face close to the skin of her neck. “That door doesn’t lock, you know,” he said softly, and kissed her earlobe lightly.

In response, she reached down to grab his leg. She leaned backward, against his chest. She thought for a moment that it could be anyone behind her, not just Trevor. Anyone could have just walked up to her and started touching her. Of course, Trevor was a total stranger as well, and that thought turned her on even more. His hands slid along her arms, raising goosebumps on her supple young skin. His lips kissed below her ear, under her jaw, down her neck.

His stubble scraped her skin and sent a shiver down her spine. Her hand was gripping the denim of his pants tightly, bunching it up along his outer thigh. His fingers danced along her arms, dropped to her sides, over her hips. One hand smoothed out her skirt and reached down to delight the bare skin of her knee. The other slid across her stomach, almost broad enough to span the distance between the waistband of her skirt and the bottom of her breasts.

Then he was cupping her breast, squeezing it and rolling it around under her shirt. His right hand slipped under the hem of her skirt and traced up her thigh. Little moans of pleasure began to slip through her lips. His questing fingers skipped across her hip, swiped briefly at the edge of her panties and then back down the inside of her thigh. She was leaning heavily against him, wrapped in his arms. If he stepped away suddenly, she would probably fall over backwards.

His hand abandoned her breast to find its way under her shirt. On the bare flesh of her abdomen, it sent chills throughout her body. His lips kept moving on her neck, his tongue creeping out to create soft wet kisses that drove her wild. He took her earlobe into his mouth briefly, causing her to gasp, and then swung her hair around so he could kiss and lick the other side of her jaw, her neck.

Her soft moans were quickly growing louder and longer. The feeling of his hands all over her was maddening. Her hand continued to cling to his pants like a lifeline. His hips were pressing against her from behind, and he started moving them slowly. Through his pants and her skirt, she couldn’t tell for certain, but she thought she felt a bit of a bulge held against her.

His left hand continued to explore her stomach, her breasts, lifting her t-shirt up to expose her bra. The other hand crept further up her skirt, along her inner thigh, until it reached her cleft. Her panties were already wet, and he began to slide his fingers over them. He traced the lips of her pussy and she shuddered. He rubbed harder, pushing against her, making his fingers moist even through the cloth. Now carried away on his touch, she began to rock back and forth, first pushing her pussy against his hand, and then pushing back against his pelvis.

Now she could feel his erection through his pants without a doubt. As she rubbed her ass against it again and again, she imagined holding it, stroking it, feeling it inside her. His hand clamped tight over her pussy now, pressing his palm into the space just above her clit, his fingers kneading the damp fabric that covered her. Her hips kept moving faster.

His breathing next to her ear inflamed her. He kissed her earlobe, took it into his mouth, and caught it lightly between his teeth. She groaned with desire, grinding furiously against him, sandwiched between hand and hips. He rolled his palm across one breast and then the other, feeling her hard nipples poking through the cloth. He pulled his hand away from her groin for a moment, and as he stuck his fingers into his mouth to taste her juices, she sighed, a long, trembling sigh full of erotic passion.

Then he lowered his hand and pulled her panties down. Just a few inches, so that they still held to her thighs, but enough that he had free access to her bare pussy. He ran his fingers up and down a few times, along her slit, moistening them. She began to moan in desperation, “Oh . . . Ohhhh–” Both her hands were clutching his pants now, one on the side of either thigh, as she ground her ass into his crotch.

Finally he slipped a finger inside her, and she bucked her hips wildly against his hand. After curling it in and out a few times, he added a second finger. He began to pump them in and out rapidly, squelching with her juices. She could barely control the rocking of her hips, feeling his cock smashed against her buttocks. Her skirt was riding up on her hips entirely, covering nothing now, and her panties were still hanging on mid-thigh, leaving her bare ass exposed.

Trevor continued kissing her, on the side of the face now as well, catching the corner of her mouth. Her mouth hung open in a constant moan as her passion completely overcame her. He moved his hand from her chest to her face, turning her head slightly toward his. Her tongue came snaking out to meet his, though only momentarily and at an odd angle. He ran his fingers along her lower lip and her tongue quickly leapt to flick across them before taking them into her mouth. She sucked on his fingers, still moaning through her closed mouth as she pumped her hips frantically.

Feeling his shaft pressing against the valley between her ass cheeks, with his fingers buried deep in her pussy and in her mouth as well, her orgasm finally swelled like a wave reaching the shore and crashed over her. She cried out, “Ahhh! Fuuuckk!” releasing his saliva-coated fingers from her mouth. Her hips pressed forward into his hand and he held it tight to her, fingers still inside her. He leaned his body into hers, pushing her forward and almost squashing her between himself and the still-running dryer.

Her body convulsed hard, nearly throwing him off her. Her knees felt wobbly. She gasped for air, completely out of breath. Her hips twitched several more times as her orgasm slowly subsided. Trevor waited until her body seemed under control, and gradually pulled his fingers out of her dripping snatch. His fingertips were pruned and shiny with fluid.

Quickly, she spun around to face him. She grabbed his head and kissed him passionately, tongue probing into his mouth deeply. He was momentarily caught off guard, but quickly responded in kind. She slung her arms around his neck and they kissed hard and long. One of his hands was caressing her back, and she relished the feel of it on her bare skin; her t-shirt was still pulled up over the top of her boobs. His other hand, the one that had been soaking in her vagina, he held a little way apart from her.

After she had some time to come down off her rush, she moved her hands down to the waistband of his pants. She stuck her fingers through his belt loops as she continued to kiss him, tugging on his jeans. She wanted him so badly now, but she’d never undressed a man before. She ran a hand over his crotch, feeling his stiffness beneath the material. God, she wanted it inside her! She wanted to taste it as he’d tasted her. She felt for the button on the top of his fly, fumbled with it for a moment, feeling that she might have to pull away from him and kneel down to make sure she could do it properly.

All of a sudden, she felt his hands reach up and yank the hem of her skirt down and then quickly pull her t-shirt back down to cover her torso. He took a step away from her and before she could figure out what was happening, the door to the laundry room squeaked open. “–And you have to give it a nudge or the door will stick sometimes and it won’t open,” he said, demonstrating by giving the dryer a shove, which was still running.

Trying to catch her bearings with this sudden shift in the wind, Lily stammered, “Th–thank you.” She looked at the interloper. It was a young woman, probably a few years older than Lily herself. Blonde, with a smattering of freckles across her face and brilliant blue eyes.

“Hey,” the blonde girl said cautiously, “Is there a washer open?” She held a basket of laundry under one arm.

Trevor turned to her. “I was just going to start mine, but there’s one open. She was just getting finished.”

The blonde gave Lily a long, slow look. Oh, god, she must know, Lily thought. My hair’s a mess, my clothes aren’t on straight, my panties aren’t even pulled up all the way. She can probably smell it. “Hi, I’m Marta,” said the blonde with an easy smile.

“Hi, Marta,” Lily said, a little numbly. “I’m Lily. I live on the third floor.”

Trevor gave Lily a look. “Hi, Lily. I’m Trevor. I’m on the second floor, 205.”

“I’m on the first floor,” Marta said, bustling past them to get to the washing machines and begin loading one. “We’re like in a stack,” she said, giving them a sidelong grin. “One, two, three.”

“I’m going to go get my laundry,” Trevor said, backing toward the door. Once he was assuredly out of sight behind Marta’s back, he caught Lily’s eye. As she watched him, he raised his hand to his mouth and slowly sucked on each of his fingers, cleaning Lily’s juices from them. Her mouth hung open in rapt arousal, eyes flicking briefly to the side where Marta stood facing the washer. Marta started saying something about how hot it had been outside lately, seemingly oblivious to what had been happening.

Trevor disappeared out the door, and Lily tried to make small talk. Marta glanced at her suspiciously, Lily thought, and wondered if she could really tell. Was she just trying not to make a big deal out of it, or did she really not know? It was distracting talking to her with her panties halfway down. Her skirt covered them, right? It felt like there was a cool breeze down there, with her pussy exposed. Finally when Marta looked away for a few seconds, Lily was able to pull her panties up and straighten them out somewhat. Well enough to walk, anyway.

Fortunately she didn’t have to make small talk for too long. After several minutes the dryer buzzed, and she took her clothes out. Trevor hadn’t come back down yet, so Lily folded her clothes and talked to Marta a bit more. Marta certainly seemed like a nice girl, and Lily was glad to know someone in the building. Two someones, now. She told Marta where she worked, and that she should come by sometime and Lily would buy her coffee and pie and they could hang out. Marta seemed excited about the idea. She’d lived in the building for over a year, worked at the parks department, and kept a lot of houseplants. That’s about as much as Lily learned before she was done folding her clothes and returned upstairs.

She wondered if Trevor were really going back downstairs to do his laundry. She had his apartment number. After all, she’d gotten to cum and he hadn’t. Maybe she should text him.

*****

In the end, she decided not to text him, and instead go knock on his door.

Lily had taken off her panties before she went downstairs. She had been wavering, but now she felt confident. The sensation of the air on her pussy emboldened her. Knowing that if she met someone in the hallway or on the elevator, there would only be her loosely-hanging skirt between them and her freshly-fingered twat, that they might be able to smell the musk of her wetness, only made her more excited. And feeling sexy gave her the courage to do what she might not have otherwise.

She knocked on the door of 205. If he didn’t answer, he was probably in the laundry room. She wondered if Marta would still be there. She wondered what Marta would do if she pulled Trevor’s pants down and began playing with his cock. Would she storm out, offended? Would she watch? Would she touch herself? Lily thought about fucking Trevor, and Marta touching herself while she watched. She was making herself so wet that it was beginning to leak out and coat the insides of her thighs.

The door opened, and Trevor stood before her. She’d never taken a good look at him before. She wasn’t a good judge of height, exactly, but he seemed taller than average. Lily herself was 5’4”, and he towered over her. He was lean and slightly built, but his unshorn face was rugged and she found him handsome. He wore a light blue button-down shirt, open at the collar. He was smiling broadly at the sight of her.

“So you came to see me, after all,” he said. “I was start–”

Lily looked up at him and slipped into his apartment wordlessly, standing close to him. “–Starting to think you didn’t like me,” he finished. In response, Lily hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants and slowly lowered herself to her knees in front of him. He let the door swing closed behind her.

She undid the button of his jeans, and lowered his zipper. She probably could have handled it quite easily without looking, but she’d never taken off someone else’s pants before. Besides, she wanted to be down here. From the entryway of his apartment, its layout seemed identical to hers. There was a coat rack to her left and a low shelf to her right containing some books and various odds and ends.

Further in, she knew she would find the living room and the kitchen off to one side, and the single bedroom and the bathroom on the other. She wondered idly how his decorating and furnishing would make his home so much different than hers, as she spread his fly open and slowly pulled his pants down. He wore plain white briefs and his cock was already pushing its way forward in anticipation.

She rubbed her hand across the front of his underwear, feeling his dick twitch beneath her touch. She’d seen penises before, in the little bit of porn she’d seen on her phone. Mostly in photos, but some videos as well. She felt like she had a good idea what to do with one, but this was the first penis she’d touch in real life. She lowered his underwear to join his pants on the floor around his ankles, and there it was, pointing straight out toward her face.

She quickly reached up and wrapped her hand around it. She was glad it wasn’t as big as some of the ones she’d seen in those videos; she thought they might be too large for her and probably hurt. She’d stuck a number of things inside her vagina as she explored herself in the past; hair brush handles, cucumbers, vibrating toothbrush . . . typical penis-shaped objects. This was the real thing, and it was bigger than her hair brush.

She gripped his cock loosely and stroked it, feeling the way the skin slid back and forth beneath her touch. Trevor let out a quiet sigh of approval. She watched fascinated as it grew a little more before her eyes. She kept tugging at it, tightening her grip a little as she got a feel for it. He was circumcised, as were most of the penises she’d seen before. The head of his cock was inches away from her face and it seemed to wink at her as she pulled and massaged it.

She sat back with her ass resting on her heels and brought her other hand up to his cock. She wrapped it around the base and squeezed it gently as her right hand continued to stroke back and forth. God, it felt so good between her fingers! Hard, yet malleable. Trevor’s breathing was starting to grow heavier as she continued to play with him. Now she stopped stroking and lightly ran her fingertips along his shaft, delighting to see it jump upward in ticklish response. Now she cupped his balls in her hand, mesmerized by the feel of them as she kept moving her other hand up and down the length of him.

She rolled his balls around gently, eliciting a groan that inflamed her desire greatly. She gripped his shaft more firmly, began to move her hand with purpose. She inadvertently rocked back and forth, just slightly, in time with her strokes. She could feel his cock pulsing in her grip, and his breathing got deeper, punctuated with short grunts. The idea that she was able to affect him in this way made her want more. She jerked him harder, face only an inch away from the head of his cock.

Her eyes focused on the slit in his cockhead, directly before her. Her mouth hung open with desire as she watched some fluid seep out of it, glistening on the tip of his penis. Without a thought, she raised her mouth to it and placed her lips against the head of his cock, slipping her tongue across it to taste the precum leaking out. A long, low groan sounded above her. She marveled at her ability to turn him on, and the excitement of tasting his cock for the first time.

She repositioned herself to be able to take more of him in her mouth. She was so wet that she thought she could feel her own juice dripping down the side of her thigh. She wrapped her lips tightly around him, holding the head of his throbbing dick in her mouth, and slowly slid her face down his shaft, taking in another inch, then two.

She was surprised at how wide she had to open her jaw to fit it in. It hadn’t seemed that thick earlier, but it took effort to make room for it. She was entranced by the taste and the smell of him–his sweat and precum were like an aphrodisiac, spurring her on. She pulled back and moved her head back and forth, holding her lips tight to stroke it as she had with her hand. It was quickly coated in a thick layer of saliva, making it much easier to slip up and down its length.

At its deepest, it was just touching the back of her tongue. She knew she had a long way to go yet to get it in her mouth all the way to the base, but she wasn’t sure how. She held onto it with one hand, steadying it as she bobbed her head, while her other hand strayed between her own legs. She was so wet that her fingers slipped in immediately and she began thrusting two of them in and out of her pussy, faster even than her head was moving.

She moaned around his cock, and the vibrations caused him to moan in return. She took it out of her mouth and held it above her face, running her tongue along its length, slurping at it like a popsicle. She buried her nose in his balls and ran her tongue across his sack for a moment, tasting its musky, spicy sweetness. Putting her lips on the side of his cock, she kissed it along its length, then ran her mouth rapidly back and forth along the shaft.

She was fucking herself with her hand passionately now. She would place her fingers over her clit and rub against it wildly for a while, and then return to plunging them deep inside her. Her mouth closed over the end of his cock again. She ran her tongue over it, tickling it, licking its tip and around the base of his head while she kept it in her mouth.

Groaning, he put his hand on top of her head. The feel of it there was like the whip to the horse. She wanted to make him cum, she wanted to be the one who could do that. She wanted to swallow him whole. She began sliding her lips further and further down his shaft, stroking it faster. She could feel it deeper inside her mouth with each stroke. She wanted more. Soon she felt it striking the back of her throat, tickling her tonsils as she strove to engulf it.

She tried to keep her lips sealed around his cock, breathing through her nose. But her airway would be blocked by each deep thrust, and it was hard to breathe. She pulled back long enough to take one long gasp, as her spit hung off the end of his cock and dribbled down her chin. Then she dove back into him, impaling her pretty lips on his throbbing pole. She bobbed rapidly now, not caring if she could catch her breath. He was moaning, deep and growing louder with the sounds of the wet smacking of her throat.

Her own moans, muffled through a full mouth, were increasing as well. With three fingers she delved deep into herself; she could feel the slap of her palm against her skin, almost as rapid as machine-gun fire, and hear the squelching sound of her juices as they dripped out of her pussy and off of her fingers.

She could no longer keep her lips tight around his cock. She tried to breathe around it, hearing the *gluck-gluck* of his cockhead pounding the back of her throat. She felt her orgasm rise up within her again and she buried her fingers as deep as she could reach inside herself. It took her hard, and she screamed loudly, though her cries were blunted by Trevor’s cock. She could feel her own cum washing over her hand, gushing out onto Trevor’s hardwood floor beneath her, which excited her further. Pulling back just enough to take a deep breath through her nose, she jammed her head down on his cock and was surprised to find her lips wrapped around his base, nose pressed into his abdomen just above his patch of public hair. It seems she *could* get that deep! It felt like he was stretching her throat out, that there wasn’t enough room but he was prying it open.

She pulled back and repeated this several times. She loved how he filled her up! She raised her hand to caress his balls while she deep throated him. His balls were already wet, with her saliva clinging to them, and her fingers were soaked from being inside her. She massaged and stroked them. Finally, her jaw aching, she had to back off of his cock momentarily.

She resumed by bouncing her head rapidly on his stiff cock, letting her neck do all the work. She couldn’t go as deep this way, but she had long, fast strokes. So fast, in fact, that her hair was flying up around her face like she was on a ride at the carnival. Trevor had been groaning consistently as she took him into her mouth, and now he began to pant and grunt with each bounce of Lily’s head. “Ohhhhh . . . .” he moaned loudly. “Ohhhh, oh, god, Lily, I’m going to cum!”

Thrilled, wanting to taste a man’s orgasm for the first time, she didn’t slow her bobbing until she felt his balls twitch in her grasp. She kept her lips clamped tight around his shaft, flicking her tongue across his cockhead. Then it came, a jet of semen that surprised her with its force. It sprayed against her tongue, and as she moved it, another spurt splashed against her palate. Another one came, and she swallowed quickly. Her tongue was coated top and bottom, and it was trickling down the back of her throat, and still more came. She sucked hard, taking it all in, slurping it down to her stomach. She milked every drop from his cock, until he finally stopped twitching and she could feel it slowly beginning to grow softer in her mouth.

At last she released it with a wet smack. A thick glob of mostly saliva dripped down her chin and splattered onto her t-shirt clad breasts. She sighed deeply, trying to return her breathing to normal. She stood up, knowing there would be a wet spot on the floor where she’d squatted.

Trevor’s eyes were half closed as he tried to catch his own breath. When her gaze met his, he returned her wide smile. He opened his eyes, more alert, and seemed about to say something. But before he could, she turned on her heel, opened his front door, and stepped into the hallway, closing it behind her.

There was a spring in her step as she moved down the hallway. She was beginning to see the potential for a real sexual awakening, and she was eager to investigate her options. She waited for the elevator, and when it arrived a middle-aged black man stepped out to head to his apartment. She could see his pause, his eyes focusing on the stain on her t-shirt, drifting up to her still-wet chin, and then meeting her eyes with mild astonishment.

With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she dragged her thumb across her lower lip, scooping up a bit of the spit and whatever other fluids were drying there. She sensually sucked it off her thumb, maintaining eye contact with the stranger, and then stepped past him onto the elevator as the doors closed behind her.

Yes, this could be fun.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/c13ho9/on_her_own_part_1_mf