I can hear her pussy juices brewing as we watch Californication. If she really hasn’t been on a date in over two years then she must be turned on by now as we approach the end of episode two. I’ve come to the conclusion she knows the score here, so when I brazenly lean over to start kissing her there is no resistance. Instead it feels like there is eager anticipation as our lips meet.
In a matter of seconds I’ve dragged her lower body down onto the footstool, have undressed the bottom half of her and am licking her clit while fingering her g-spot. This is my idea of T.L.C., i.e. Tender Licking of Clit.
“Oh my god, what are you doing to me?” she exclaims, half approvingly and half suspiciously.
“I’m pleasuring your g-spot. Do you like it?” I ask with a smirk.
“Fuck, please don’t stop. Keep doing whatever you want with me,” she exhorts.
Hmm…do whatever you want with me…I fully intend to.
I love such a moment when a woman is so turned on that she will tell me anything that I want to hear for fear of whatever she’s feeling coming to a stop. It’s easier to get a woman into bed than to keep her coming back, so from what she’s just said she’s told me that she’ll come back if I want her to…and I’ve only just begun.
In the daily matters of humans I’ve learned that we generally have to give before we receive. We first give our time to gain qualifications, we first give of our best to get paid at the end of the month, we first pay into the tax system before we get anything in return and so it is with other dealings with humans, especially when it comes to sex. Giving a lover pleasure first will almost always result in them reciprocating and usually with more in return.
I’ll give Smiler pleasure first and then see how much she gives in return. Is she going to be another disappointing flop or does she have skills? From the three hours we’ve spent together I can’t tell because she didn’t have a chance to eat anything spicy. I’ll have to wait and see.
Her hips start to wriggle and she grabs a cushion and smothers herself, letting off an almighty scream that might have rivalled anything I heard Busty Czech do. What’s with the vocal women of late? I digress…
I keep licking out the alphabet over her clit and fingering her g-spot even after she has cum. Normally I would stop and let my lover recover, but tonight I’m in a devilish mood, so I keep going, expecting her to ask me to stop.
She doesn’t and within half a minute she has another orgasm, again screaming into a cushion that must by now have bite-marks on it. This sofa must also be getting dirty from all the pussy juices she’s letting off; she’s like a fountain. Maybe she is telling the truth about how dry her love-life has been of late. For the last two years I’ve been fucking everything that moves while she’s been watching box-sets on cable-TV.
“Stop, stop! I can’t take it any more,” she says as I still continue with TLC.
Without a word I get comfortable next to her on the sofa. She’s huffing and puffing as I cradle her in my arms.
“Wow! I’ve never felt anything like that before,” she whispers.
Somebody else said that to me recently and I try to remember who it was. Before the dark corridors of my brain yield an answer Smiler is on the move.
She’s tugging at my clothing and strips me totally naked. This is the most aggressive thing she has said or done all night. Has she been holding back or have I awakened something?
Her bra and blouse go flying but before I get to see her boobs she’s positioned herself between my legs and is sitting on the floor. What, no kisses around the face and neck? No nibbling my ear and whispering a naughty fantasy in my ear?
“I suppose I should say hello to him. It would be rude not to,” she says taking my semi-flacid cock in her hand.
Even in porn movies the porn-tartlet will first lick the stud’s cock a few times before she takes it in her mouth. It’s very rare for a woman to just latch onto a penis without doing some taste-testing or lubricating first.
Smiler expertly, gently pulls my foreskin back then latches onto the head of my penis with her mouth…and sends me straight to heaven.
I thought that Pretty Teacher and The Saffa gave great head, but the woman sucking on me now is in a league of her own. Yes, there is dedication, skill, consideration and tenderness in abudance, but what impresses me most is her seemingly being in a state of rapture.
Her eyes are closed and she working my cock like it’s her favourite ice-cream on the hottest day of the year.
As my manhood grows in her mouth I notice the time on a clock. I wonder how long she can keep doing this to me? I lie back and enjoy her enjoying me, waiting to see how long it is before she stops. Just how long will she happily suck my cock for?
She diligently and effortlessly sucked away on me non-stop for an hour as if it is the greatest pleasure she has ever known. For a few moments it looks like she is getting drunk from going down on me.
She does things with her mouth and hands to my cock and balls that no other woman has ever done. Several times I fight off cumming in her mouth because I’m curious to see how long this could last. To cool my ardour I remember my saddest moment from childhood, that of my characterful pet dog, Rusty, dying from cancer when I was eight. Rusty dies several times in this hour of fellatio.
I now think of Smiler as ‘The Cockaholic’.
“Imagine taking my cock in your pussy,” I say, trying to turn her on even more, knowing full well the thought has crossed her mind, but articulating it enhances the emotion, the desire involved.
“Mmmm,” she murmurs, keeping her eyes closed, taking as much of my cock in her mouth as she can. The murmur I take to mean agreement, approval and desire, all rolled into one. Of course it could mean anything else, but I’m not interested in that.
“Imagine taking that cock in your arse,” I say, pushing my luck, but wanting to check her reaction.
“Surely not on the first date?” she says slyly, hiding a little laugh.
I was impressed by her comeback, but slightly perturbed because a girl who isn’t into anal would have shaken her head with my cock in her mouth or voiced disapproval somehow. This response said, not now, but perhaps another time. I have another little sexual vixen on my hands it seems. Perhaps another Krazy Girl?
My balls are aching from all the teasing and pleasing my cock has received. I stand up and fumble for a condom while The Cockaholic gets comfortable on the sofa. By the time I’ve got the body-bag for my cock on my appendage has lost interest.
She pulls the condom off my dick, kisses my mouth for a few seconds then gets down on her knees and sucks my cock until it is hard again. I want to fuck her doggy-style so badly, but these bloody condoms really kill the mood for me. I had only found these condoms in the last months of being with my Exgf because no other has ever fitted, nevertheless, it’s destroys the sexual experience for me and often for my lover too.
“When last were you tested?” I ask.
“Four weeks ago,” she says after a few seconds of contemplation.
“I was tested six weeks ago,” I say, omitting the fact that I had fucked two women bareback since then. What was she omitting I wondered?
Neither of us say what the results of the tests were. It’s a bit like those television adverts for women’s cosmetics, shampoos and laundry detergent that say “clinically tested” – and the results were what exactly? Guaranteed to age you prematurely, guaranteed to give you alopecia or guaranteed to make your genitals itchy?
“Get on that” I say, pointing a finger to my trusty foot stool in front of my sofa that I have fucked so many women on that I’ve lost count. It’s cover has barely dried from the previous weekend’s shenanigans with The Saffa.
The Cockaholic quickly jumps onto it and assumes the position, ready to receive me. Yes, she’s compliant and I’m thinking submissive by nature, keen to please.
I push my chubby into her pussy and start rocking my hips. I still find it curious that such a motion has the effect of spurring my cock back to life. The human body’s programming is amazing.
“Oh god, yes,” she utters, snapping me back to reality as I fuck her.
Her pussy feels good and I lean my head slightly over to have a look at her tits. They’re not big, c-cup at best, but they’re rocking nicely in time with my thrusts. As my cock nears full erection I can feel that her pussy is tightening, not because of what she is doing with her muscles but because I’m now stretching her and she’s liking it given the sounds she’s making.
I love the sounds a woman makes when I fuck her. There’s an honesty that makes me feel good. Of course, it becomes too good and I have to cum.
“Where do you want my cum?” I ask, giving her the choice and not wanting to do as Nature designed me for. Every woman has her preferred place to feel a man’s ejaculate.
“I want to feel your cum in me,” she replies.
Really? I was expecting her to want to swallow my load because she clearly has an oral fixation going on.
“Is it safe to do so?” I ask in rare moment of prudence for me.
“I’m on contraceptives,” she wheezes as my cock touches what must be her cervix.
I’m not sure what that means but a steam train is not pulling my hips out of her right now.
Like a jack-hammer I pump cum into her and she makes approving sounds. After the long build-up it doesn’t surprise me as to how good my orgasm feels and how much sperm I must have shot into her.
Eventually I slow down and I realize that I’ve lifted her hips off the footstool and she’s been partially dangling in the air while having her hands on the sofa. It was that kind of climax for me.
I slump down next to her to catch my breath.
“That was amazing,” she says, her eyes wide and sparkling.
I say nothing.
For a few moments we lie there, not speaking, just smiling as my warm cum drips down the inside of her thighs. Starting to feel the cold which she must have too, I stand up, collect her in my arms and carry her off to my bedroom.
We lie in bed talking until four in the morning. We talk about the usual stuff of past relationships, family, travel, work and life in general. To my surprise I learn that we have many things in common and share a similar twisted, cynical view of the world around us. If I wasn’t meeting another date at lunchtime, I would have been happy to talk, cuddle and fool around until she needed to leave.
On the Saturday morning, mere hours later, I’m awoken by the sensation of The Cockaholic sucking on my morning glory. I have no idea how long she had been doing that for, but I appreciate the attention and novelty of it.
She looks up and notices me waking up, my looking at her. She seems quite intense.
“Please fuck me sideways,” she asks.
I’m always happy to oblige a horny woman, especially if she utters such words first thing in the morning.
As I was fucking her sideways, she raises her hands above her head, gripping a pillow and I watch her tits wobble – not bounce – around. Their movement seems unnatural but I’m not going to embarrass us both by asking if her tits are real.
When she is in the throes of it, I suck on a thumb and slowly, slide it deep up her arse. She doesn’t flinch and seems to enjoy it. As she approaches her climax she covers her head with a pillow and screams into it…which is nice. I really enjoy making a woman scream like that. There’s an element of trust to it that appeals to me. She trusts me not to hurt her and I take that as a compliment.
She seems quite at ease having my thumb up her arse while I fuck her. Is this something new to her or is she used to this? I can see that she’s thinking about something, ah, here it comes…is she about to voice disapproval?
“You have a fantastic body,” she says, her body half-turned towards me. She’s admiring my arms and chest, stroking them with her finger-tips as I thump my cock into her pussy.
Huh? Where does that come from? Okay, it’s nice to hear but it’s not quite in keeping with the mood. Whatever, my new batch of swimmers want to breathe.
“Where do you want my cum this time?” I ask, kind of counting on a different answer.
“I want to swallow,” she says, looking me straight in my eye.
I like her directness. Now I’ll give her some directness of my own.
Jumping up onto the bed, I step towards her face as she raises her torso. She makes a point of looking me in the eye, as she opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out. What a good little slut; very submissive.
I tug on the end of my cock and a slightly liquid barrage of spunk jumps out into her mouth. The Cockaholic keeps her mouth open, determined to take as much as I can give her, all the while maintaining strong eye contact.
A few more tugs, some cum lands on her face, but that’s all there is after less than six hours since my last orgasm. She must know this too because she pulls her lubricated tongue back into her mouth and swallows, smiling as she does so.
I collapse into bed again while she goes to the bathroom. I hear her having a pee and realize that this is the first time she’s been to the toilet since we met more than twelve hours ago. No woman I’ve ever known has managed more than six hours. Some guys might consider The Cockaholic a keeper on the basis of this alone.
I make her breakfast and while we eat I hint at my meeting a friend in London at lunchtime, a cue that she needs to leave. I feel bad for seeming slightly blunt, but hey, this is what happens on one-night stands, right?
Not long afterwards she’s dressed and I’m walking the Cockaholic to her car. As usual I can feel my neighbour’s prying, judgemental eyes on my back.
“How about we get together next weekend?” I say, not entirely sure I mean it.
“I can’t wait that long,” she says, losing any pretence of English reserve.
I just smile and close her car door. She smiles back and then speeds off to wherever it is that came from, somewhere connected to cyberspace and her phone.
I have never fucked a woman within hours of meeting her. What does that say about her and I? Me, well it was premeditated. I wanted to see if I could do it. Her? Well, that’s a different story. Has she done this before? It was all so easy for me. The only time I noted some hesitation was outside in the car park when I invited her into my place. After that I could do whatever I wanted…and I liked it.
It played out almost exactly as I had expected, except that there’s problem.
I like her; we seem to get along and she’s fun. She has a dirty laugh that makes me laugh.
This wasn’t supposed to happen, I wasn’t supposed to like her. Shit.
There’s a song of the moment called “Get Lucky”. I wonder if we both did?
As for The Saffa, I think her luck has run out.
Oh, yes, there is the little matter of having another date lined up for lunchtime; my second Tinderella. Will I get “lucky” a second time? Does luck have anything to do with it?
Daft Punk – Get Lucky