I straddled his lap in matching bra and pale blue panties. He sat naked under me on the La-Z-Boy recliner, his erection lifting against my cunt. I experienced its heat and thickness through the sheer nylon mesh. An arm wrapped my back. Fingertips that barely grazed the skin descended to my ass. His glasses jostled against my closed eyes. I fed him tongue.
He lowered the waistband of the panties down my buttocks and ran a finger into the crease. My breasts brushed his bare torso, which was hairless, lean, and sinewy. He had a swimmer's build. His eyebrow was pierced.
I tugged the panties to the side, allowing the labia to peel open upon contact with his prick. The lips swept along the shaft. The kisses of cunt deposited my arousal on the underside of the cock. He unfastened the clasp at back, and I shrugged the bra from my shoulders. Squeezing my tits forcefully, he brought his mouth to the nipples, which were hard as diamonds. We locked hands. I dragged our combined touch down my front, to the pussy. Our palms got wet in my waters. My fingers closed about the glans. They twisted and pulled on the head and became sticky with precome. Starting at his throat, I lipped his pecs and abs and sank to ground before him. The eye of the penis winked at me.
He had an encyclopedic knowledge of sports I didn't care about. His perfect weekend was spent fly fishing. He was nineteen, a high school dropout who worked as a roofer, and was saving money for another tattoo. I worked at a university and taught students his age. We conversed about the weather and drank cheap beer. No matter: he knew his way around a woman's body and, as a consequence of the tirelessness and fortitude of youth, made me cream repeatedly. Together with his empty house — his parents were away — this appointed him my lover for the winter holidays, when I visited family on the other coast.
It wasn't the most refined or sophisticated sex we shared. I wasn't comfortable letting him dominate me. Nevertheless, we enjoyed each other's company nearly every afternoon and on many nights. He made me giggle with his cock inside.
He fucked me, and I fellated him. We went on this way for hours.
As though shuffling through a pack of illustrated Kama Sutra playing cards, we essayed all the positions. I was on my back, looking up. While his erection slowly filled me, his body magnified as he advanced. With hands pushing off from the plates of his chest, I mounted his penis and rode. I clutched his hairy thighs, facing away so that he could see my buttocks spin atop his dense pubis. He brought my back horizontal, and while he kissed me gently, his cock thrust into me like an automaton. I was on hands and knees on the mattress: he fucked me from behind, the anus and also the cunt. He took me on top of the dresser and on the freezing floor under the ping-pong table in the basement. Penis embedded, he carried me up the stairs. I squeezed my arms about his neck; my legs wrapped his waist. The carpet in the foyer left rug burns on my shins. We sat in the tub, splashed, and shaved each other. He was on the bed in a crouch, ass angled up. I straddled his body and rubbed my breasts against his lower back. Hands stroked the erection while I licked his bung. We paid for Les Miserables and snuck into Django Unchained and messed around in the dark of the movie theater and, because we were horny, screwed in a more distant part of the mall parking lot before driving home. My pussy flipped inside out when he licked me. I sucked on his cock and swallowed the thick, viscous come with its scent of bleach.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/39oi10/christmas_2012_mf