Apologies for any typos or a lack of literary flair, penning this tale took longer than I anticipated quite simply because within a few minutes of sitting down and beginning to write, I find myself rock-hard…and besides, I’ve always been one for procrastination via masturbation.
For the sake of confidentiality, we’ll call her Alyssa.
She’d caught my eye on campus from the moment we both arrived, and at a fancy dress party, I asked for her number. She gave me it and I sent a follow-up text the next morning, raising the proposition of our going for a drink together. However, she told me that she was seeing someone at present, and, in her slightly intoxicated state, that she hadn’t twigged that my asking for her a number was an approach to being more than friends.
A few weeks later, I’d asked her to my dorm room to help me with an Australian accent for a play I was doing, as I’d found out her mom was from Sydney. Having been incentivised to clean my room my her upcoming visit, she came by and recorded some dialogue for me. I had some cake left over from my birthday and so I offered her a slice, and after bit of chit-chat, she went on her way.
A day or so after, having wondered whether she had dialled up the flirt factor compared to before, I found out she wasn’t seeing the person she’d previously mentioned. Cut to later that evening, we were just texting one another, when she asked if I was doing anything that, which I wasn’t. The conversation then stepped up a gear:
HER ‘I’ve a bottle of gin that needs finishing, so if you fancy a glass or two and a flirt, come over.’
ME ‘I’ve got to say, that doesn’t sound too enticing, you got anything else to offer.’
HER ‘We could always…play Scrabble?’
ME ‘That’s certainly an improvement!’
HER ‘Well, do you have any suggestions?’
ME ‘I was actually thinking we could tear each other’s clothes off and ravage each other till the break of dawn?’
HER ‘…I’m actually blushing. Yeah, that sounds good.’
Later on, that evening, as I approached her door, I felt a little jittery; I hadn’t hooked up with anyone in quite a casual or overtly flirtatious manner. But, upon her opening the door, all worries exited my head as the blood headed south to my cock.
She wore a tight-fitting red dress that accentuated the slender contours of her frame, as if her body was part-silk. We chatted idly for a while over a few glasses of the aforementioned gin, dancing around the sexual tension whilst stealing glances at each other.
After her third helping of gin, she stood up from the table we were sat around and approached me. She peeled the dress off of her…and no part of her was left to my imagination anymore.
My jaw couldn’t but sink somewhat in wonderment at her figure, especially her breasts, which swayed ever so slightly, making gravity the sexiest it had ever been; they were the perfect size for me to cup and lavish all attention over.
As she took in my lingering gaze, she announced that she had been dreaming of going down on me, to which I eagerly replied, ‘Well if you’ve still got the urge…’ She slowly sunk to her kness, swiftly removed my briefs, and descended upon my cock, her lips softly tracing along, down the shaft, as inch after inch was engulfed by her eager mouth. The momentum with which my cock slid in and out of her began to gather, as though her thirst for me increased with every stroke that filled her mouth up. It wasn’t long before my bliss escalated to the point of no return; I could barely string the sentence together to ask where she wanted me to cum. Swiftly popping her lips off my cock like a lollipop, she opened her mouth wide and pointed towards it before slowly taking all of me in, slurping the whole length of me for all that she was worth. Cue, a resounding orgasm on my part a minute or so later, rapidly firing streak after streak of cum down her throat. Her gaze came up to meet mine, her face flushed, as though she was intoxicated from all the cum that she had readily drank from my cock.
We moved to the sofa by the table, allowing me to slowly massage her clit in a circling motion while we both caught our breath. Her eyes began to flutter to the point that I thought she was on the verge of passing out, until she fixed me with a newly focused gaze and whispered, ‘I want to feel all of you inside me’.
Thus, with her hands in mine, I guided her over me, as she lowered her pert ass towards my still-throbbing cock, which slowly nestled its way into her pussy until she came to a stop; fixed in elation, her eyes closed, head going back, with all of me inside her. It was a snug fit, and we both exhaled shakily in pleasure.
I reached my hands around to her ass, and grasped either cheek, each side as peachy and inviting as the other, as she began to build momentum, coming up as far she could whilst keeping me in her, before sliding back down to the base of my cock, as if every inch was a step closer to her. Her moans increased, soft in tone, but louder in volume, the sound of which was very much worthy of the term ‘eargasm’.
More so than any other previous encounter, I lost sense of time, simply concentrating on issuing swift slaps upon either ass cheek, which only served to increase her motions, whilst illiciting a high-pitched whimper on her part. Eventually, it got to the point when just I thought she was nearing the jump to hyper-space, as it were, she let out a long, sustained moan, that rose in pitch and volume until she seemingly froze on the spot, before convulsing like she’d just been jabbed by a cattle prod. It was a glorious moment to see her in ecstasy, quivering feverishly in the wake of her orgasm. What I’d give to have preserved that image in photographic form.
Lastly, just before I went out the door of her flat the next morning with an ear-to-ear grin, she pulled me close and whispered in my ear, ‘By the way, I kinda like being tied up sometimes. Just in case you’re interested.’
Unfortunately, various events suddenly unfolded within her life that took her away to Sydney for the rest of the studies. Time waits for no man, but I still like to contemplate the notion that one day, I’ll get to follow up on her invitation.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8muc97/mf_from_tackling_an_accentto_handling_her_assets
We can appreciate literary flair, but it reads like you’re trying too hard to impress us. Good story, thanks for sharing.
I liked the story, hope you can afford a trip to Sydney in the near future