My First Weekend With Delilah, Part 3 [MF]

Sorry it’s been a while. I’ve honestly had trouble separating memorable experiences with Delilah from one another because there’s just too much sex, so I’m going to skip ahead a little bit. Suffice it to say that our first night, we did not sleep.

I’m not sure if I mentioned it, but the night Delilah and I got drinks was the day before New Years Eve. At some point after the sun came up, we passed out. It was probably after noon when we woke up and carried on talking like the night before; easy, free, nonstop. Somewhere between when the pho arrived and the second pot of coffee, she asked if I had any plans. Being recently broken up with, it turns out I didn’t. Almost immediately, she invited me to a party in the city that her friend was hosting.

After a long night of incredible sex with someone who was starting to feel like a soul mate, I was far from content to keep my hands to myself. At the liquor store down the street, I stood behind her and trailed my fingers up the back of her thighs. I felt shivers run through her as I ran them all the way up her spine. That earned me a sexy, knowing smirk.

In the Uber to the party, while she made idle chit chat with the driver (one of the many little things that she does that makes me happy to know her), the tips of my fingers danced over her palm and up her wrist in playful, feather light touches. Every once in a while, she would stumble over a word or hesitate when I touched her -just- the right way.

Things slowed down a little bit when we got to Josh’s. The tower that he lived in was right at the heart of downtown. His apartment was halfway up, and had an amazing, panoramic, floor to ceiling view of the lake: the perfect place to watch the fireworks. Introductions were made, drinks were poured, bowls were passed, and the normal banter ensued. Our cluster of about six or seven of us migrated through a crowd of four or five dozen, first talking school and work at the table, then deeper topics better suited to looser tongues on the couch, all to throbbing dance music and an array of lasers.

Apparently at some point I shut down the party bitch, though I have no recollection of this.

Then someone brought a puppy, which I do remember.

Delilah and I stood on the balcony while the whole city counted down the last seconds of the worst year in modern history, just watching the people below. When the shouts went up and the fireworks began to pop, I kissed her. I don’t know if she was expecting it. After all, despite knowing of each other’s existence for nearly a decade, we’d only had our first real conversation the night before. If I’d been sober, I might have hesitated or second guessed myself. But in truth, it felt right, and I poured that singular thought into that kiss.

“Happy New Year,” I whispered, shivering.

She rested her forehead on mine and smiled. “Happy New Year.”

“It’s cold out,” I chuckled, my teeth now chattering.

She only nodded enthusiastically.

“You know what sounds good?” I had to raise my voice as we walked back into the throng. “Warming up with that puppy!”

“Yeeessss!” she giggled, finishing her drink.

We walked down the hall, away from the majority of the party in the living room, toward the bedroom where the dog was being kept, but as we reached the door, I suddenly had another idea.

(it was sex).

I surprised her by pulling her into the bathroom, just across the hall from the bedroom, and was rewarded with a yelp. As soon as the door was closed, I grabbed her collar and slammed her back against the wall. Before she could even regain her balance, my lips were at her neck and my hand was down her pants. Her hands flew to my back, clawing through my shirt and into my skin. I think it was all reflex for her. Her head shot back and she let out a deep gasp that was quickly silenced by my hand over her mouth.

My cold fingers slipped between her lips. She was warm and wet, and fully grinding her hips down for more pressure. Once she regained her bearings, one of her hands tangled in my hair, holding my lips to her shoulder, collar bone, neck, and ear. The other snuck below my shirt, just at the base of my spine, pulling my hips into hers while she raised one leg to wrap it around my waste.

As soon as I could, I slipped two fingers into her, making her fully scream into my hand. I looked into her eyes and watched them smolder while my fingers pressed deeper into her, forcefully rubbing the top wall of her pussy. Her legs started shaking, and her hold on me slowly turned to a desperate clinging. I could feel her grip on me — on my hair, on my back, and on my fingers — tightening. Her eyes were pleading me not to stop. Just as her whole body began to shake, I moved the hand that was silencing her and kissed her. Deep.

Her tongue forced its way past my lips and battled mine, and she screamed as hard as she could into the kiss, cumming on my fingers. She was fully spasming in my arms, only two feet from the nearest party goer.

I’d gotten a sense the night before that she usually needed time to recover. Not this time. As quickly as I’d thrown her at the wall, she did the same to me, forcing me back against the opposite wall and dropping to her knees in seconds. I still felt her hands shaking as aftershocks rocked her body. In no time, she had my cock out and completely down her throat, and I could still feel her quaking at my feet.

I wove my fingers into her hair, loving the feeling of her head bobbing back and forth beneath me. I brushed one of the many errant strands of purple from over her thick black glasses and stared into her eyes, losing myself in her relentless mission for my cum. I couldn’t help but groan when I saw that one of her hands had made its way between her legs.

Someone started pounding on the door.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, it was a house party after all. I’d just been so focused on Delilah that I’d forgotten.

Oh well.

I pulled her to her feet and bent her forward so that her face was pressed right against the door. There as a clear look of panic in her eyes. A moment later, I slipped my spit-slick cock all the way into her in one thrust, and her panicked eyes rolled back into her head with a sharp exhale. I grabbed a handful of purple hair and forced her to look back at me while I fucked her, driving my length all the way to the end of her from behind. Every time someone hammered on the door, her eyes would go wide for a split second. Her nails raked the door and the walls. She clung on to the doorknob and the counter beside us. She was doing everything in her power to make herself care that she was clearly caught, to tether herself to the reality that her friends and classmates were a foot away, but just couldn’t.

Meanwhile, I was doing everything in my power to make her cum again in the middle of the party. I drove into her as hard as I could, one hand holding her hair fast while the other danced over her pierced hood. Her thighs gripping my hand and shivering.

Finally, she looked me straight in the eye and said, “Don’t stop!” The words came out not as a whisper or a breath or a gasp, as just about everything else had. They were a command. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Fuck, I’m so close!”

When she came, the dams broke. She crumbled in my arms, her whole body rocked by waves. I let go of her hair and caught her around the chest, where one of her hands flew to mine and crushed it around her breast. I fell over the edge seconds later, cumming as deep into her sodden, trembling cunt as humanly possible.

Then I noticed that the knocking had stopped.

We giggled like drunken school children, picked up our hastily discarded cloths, and opened the door. On wobbly legs, we passed Josh and a cadre of four or five other guys all going in the bathroom together. He may have been nodding approvingly, and I think I heard him high five Delilah as we passed.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/653cms/my_first_weekend_with_delilah_part_3_mf