Nick and I met on Tinder and had been fucking off and on for about a month. We had talked some about what we both liked in bed, but were still very much getting to know each other. He was always very polite and respectful, and he (and I) hadn’t yet figured out that I might not actually want that during sex. We had a lot of mutual friends, and after a late night out one Friday, we ended up back at his apartment, but were too drunk and tired to do anything except sleep. We hadn’t really defined yet if we were going to just be fuck buddies or also hang out as friends. But, the next morning he turned on a soccer game and started to make breakfast, so I hung around. We ate and sat on the couch, and I was super horny, which is not unusual, so I decided to go for it and leaned over and started to kiss his neck. Then I straddled him and started making out and kissing his neck and chest. My hands worked their way down and pulled at his shorts. He took them off and I knelt in front of him on the floor. I started slow, licking his cock and feeling it harden, and then tried to force as much of it into my mouth as possible. After several tries and gagging a few times, I managed to fit it all in, and he groaned and grabbed my head, forcing it deeper. I slid my mouth up and down his cock with my tongue pressed against it, wiping away the saliva that was dripping down my chin. I held his cock with one hand and played with his balls with the other, rubbing, sucking and licking as I felt myself getting really wet from the whole situation. I was turned on from watching him get turned on and from feeling his hand in my hair, forcing me down further onto his cock. He eventually stopped me, picked me up, and threw me on his bed. He pulled off my underwear and felt that I was dripping wet. His face looked like he had won the lottery or solved global warming as he asked, incredulous, “Does that turn you on???” “Yes,” I said, blushing. “Don’t be embarrassed; that’s a really good thing!” he said quickly. “What do you want me to do?” he growled in my ear. “Fuck me,” I moaned. “What?” he said. “I want you to fuck me.” I managed. My brain was closing in on that singular objective and I could barely form complete sentences. He slid into me easily and started fucking me hard. My head and upper body were leaning off the bed and with each thrust, I could feel myself getting closer to an orgasm and closer to falling off the bed onto my head. He eventually realized this too and grabbed me and threw me down on the bed on my stomach. He pulled my ass up so that I was on all fours and slammed into me from behind. I came almost immediately, and he continued to pound me so hard that I gradually slid lower and lower until I was laying on my stomach with my ass still sticking up slightly. He smacked it hard a few times and I gasped. He leaned down so that his head was next to mine and grabbed me by the throat, putting just enough pressure for me to feel how much stronger than me he was and that he was in control. His strokes quickened and I felt myself getting close again. I felt his muscles tighten, which pushed me over the edge and I finished as he flooded me with his cum. We laid there, covered in sweat and cum, until our breathing got back to normal, and we got up to watch the rest of the soccer game.