Hey you – found some time to write you another postcard. Hope you’re having fun where you are.
*****
I headed to Portland for the weekend. I met this crazy hot chick, Shirley. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was getting myself into once we got back to her place. We had walked back to her building from the restaurant. We were meeting for dinner, stayed for dessert and headed to hers for a nightcap. Once we were walking next to each other, the touching started in earnest.
At her apartment, I let her walk up the stairs first and that short skirt told me that she was not wearing much under it. She unlocked the door, swung it open and walked in. “Close it and follow me,” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared around a corner. I closed the door and locked it and then followed the sounds. She was in the washroom, the sink running and the door partially closed. She stuck her head into view and said, “you’re next.” Then she tossed a towel into a hamper and traded places with me. I cleaned up quickly using a hand towel and tossed it as well and then went to find her.
Shirley was sitting in the dark on the couch, facing me. Behind her the lights of all night pizza and a bar lit the room and cast shadows in equal measure. But she was easy to spot. Her dress was hiked up to her waist, her legs spread wide, one hand beckoned me closer and the other caressed her pussy. When I approached she shifted her hips forward more and smiled expectantly. “Let’s see if you can do what you said you could do.”
I needed no more consent than that. I got down on my knees and kissed up her thighs. The hint of salt where she hadn’t washed coaxed out my tongue and she moaned with approval. She was either horny or impatient because her one hand stayed in place, churning circles around her clit. I decided to tease her by skipping over to her other thigh but she used her free and to catch my neck and told me, “Oh hell no,” and brought me to her pussy.
She all but gushed when I slid my tongue between her lips. She was saturated and I started lapping her cum. She tasted like tart strawberries and once the first flood had been cleared I settled down to business. She liked to rock her hips forward and back so I let her control where my tongue slid over her. Her soft dark lips parted easily until the more solid flesh guided my mouth to her clit. I used my lips to gently squeeze and then flicked the tip with my tongue. Hard pressure and then feathery kisses got her moaning. I shifted my weight to free my hand and pressed a finger just below the bottom edge of her pussy. She was slick almost dripping with her juices and so I slid two fingers easily into her. “Fuuuuck!” was her response and she pulled me to her clit again. Circles and lines, quickly then slow and she was rocking like she was on a ship in a storm. She moaned again and pulled my head in tight and she came. She gently squirted over my hand and her body clamped down on my fingers. I worked my way up her clit, keeping the pressure but moving away from the end. And she came again, gentler, but definitely again.
After a moment she grabbed my hair and pulled me off of her and her whole body relaxed with a sigh. “Goddamn, Pete. You do know what you’re doing.” She shuddered with an aftershock and then shifted back into a seated position with me still between her legs. “Yeah, you’re not going near my pussy for a few minutes so it’s my turn.” She pat the cushion next to her and I joined her on the couch. Her hand trailed up my thigh to the bulge in my pants. “Let’s pull that out so I can return the favour.”
Postcards are too small – I’ll have to buy another one. Keep well!
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/c5j9a2/postcard_from_portland_mforal
Nice postcard.