by Moon, Mia
They made me so hungry. More than that they made me feel so satisfied.
I knew Zoe was going to be jealous. She already was a little, but I had not been able to text her much about it. Once she found out all the juicy details she wasn’t going to talk to me for a week. I knew that in my bones.
Maybe I’d keep the details of this week to myself. Forever.
He tugged on my hand and pulled me out of my thoughts. A little daze I looked around and then down. He was kneeling, grabbing his loose shoelaces and pulling them up to knot them.
“My shoes came undone,” he said. I nodded.
“Of course,” I said. “Of course….”
I waited patiently. Maybe not too patiently. I was eager to get home with him. I could already feel the anticipation working its way up my body. I was trying not to heap too many expectations up on this date. After all, there was no requirement at all for it to be like the last ones.
We made it to my porch, and I didn’t even bother asking him if he wanted to come.
I just started opening the door, and he followed me in. He may just have been waiting for me to kiss him goodbye, or maybe he was just one of those people who sticks around until you clearly dismiss them.
But I wasn’t ready to let him go. I wanted more of him, I wanted to taste him – my body was practically on fire with desire for him as it was, and I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to survive another hour without an orgasm…
I turned around barely a centimeter from the door and pulled him into a kiss. I put my hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close and putting my hand between his legs.
He jumped, a little startled, but put his hands on the back of my head as well, pulling me close to return the kiss with just as much enthusiasm. He was hungry, he wanted me. Just as much as I wanted him, maybe more. I had no idea where I wanted this to go but I knew I needed him. I knew I needed release. I wanted that so badly.
I wanted to make him feel good. I placed my hand against his chest and let it slide down. I sank down to my knees, following the path, until my knees were resting against the tiles and I was looking up at him.
I dragged my tongue across my bottom lip, hoping it looked as sexy as I hoped, smiling. He swallowed hard, his hands going down to his jeans. I gripped the band of his pants, thinking the same thing as I helped him pull them down until they were resting around his ankles.
I traced my tongue up his thigh. He was already so hard. I knew I was just as wet, and it made it almost impossible to think. I pressed my mouth against the inside of his thigh, sucking, nipping at it with my teeth and then dragging my tongue up and over his balls.
He took in a sharp breath, which only encouraged me. I dragged my tongue further up, sliding it back and forth over that thin line of separation. My fingers came up and pressed just behind them into that soft, sensitive spot I knew was there.
I thought he was going to explore immediately on my fingers as soon as I touched him there, but he didn’t. I moved my tongue again, going around the base of his cock, skating it up the throbbing vein that ran up the length all the way to his purple head.
He was already dripping pre-cum, gossamer threads of need spilling onto my tongue as I pressed the tip of my tongue against his slit, licking it up, wanting it all. Wanting everything that came before and after.
I opened my mouth wide and used my tongue to draw him in. My fingers wrapped around his balls, thumbs sliding over the slick skin, going up the velvety shaft and working in tandem with my mouth to please him.
I started bobbing up and down on his cock, sucking as I went, working him in my hands and listening to his moans, wanting more. Wanting him to be so pleased. So satisfied.
He pushed his hips against my mouth, shoving his cock deeper down my throat. I opened my mouth as wide as I could until I felt the corners start to ache and then I still went a little wider.
He thrust into my throat again, but I didn’t gag – letting it relax instead, I made sure to keep breathing through my nose. I let him rock against my mouth, thrusting in and out, his hips working, pumping like he was buried deep between my legs.
I moaned around his cock, the vibrations of my throat teasing his length, making it vibrate. I squeezed his balls, pressed my fingers up against that soft spot.
I worked up the pressure, worked my fingertips, driving them up and then stroking them back and forth. He was helpless in my hands. His cock trembling. His thighs quivering.
His knees would have buckled and he would have collapsed if I moved away. That made me smile around his cock, but even so I kept going. And I think that turned him on more. He was so, so turned on.
I sucked him, loudly, showing off my skill as well as my enjoyment. I sank my mouth all the way down to his base and sucked around that as well, his cock hitting the back of my throat.
I slid up and down the length, keeping my breathing even, looking up at him to try and monitor his enjoyment. And he was into it, he was enjoying it so much. I knew he didn’t want me to stop because of his hand buried in my hair, tugging me closer, his fingers resting against the back of my head as it undulated.
He wanted to come deep inside my mouth. I could tell that he wanted to shoot down my throat. And, honestly, I was going to let him.
I pulled off his cock just long enough to take a deep breath. I looked up at him and flashed a grin, my hands still sliding up and down his slick cock. So, so wet. So hard.
God, he was helpless. Helpless in that moment and mine.
He rocked his hips, pumping into my hands, wanting more. We weren’t even past my kitchen. There was nothing for him to hold onto other than the wall. I started stroking him faster. How terrible would it have been of me to stroke him until he came, not having allowed him to come inside my mouth like he so clearly desired?
I put my mouth back on his cock, at that thought. Sucking hard, bobbing my head up and down. I ran my hands up and down the length, my hands covering every inch that my mouth could not. I left such a slick wet path that it made it easy.
He pushed on the back of my head again and drove himself deep into my mouth, rolling his hips. He was close. He was so close. He was rocking and whimpering and he was going to cum so, so hard down my throat.
I could tell he was trying to hold back, but I stroked my fingertips down his thigh, letting him know that he didn’t need to be upset about it. I wanted him to cum. I wanted him to enjoy himself. I was giving him permission to finish, to release down my throat. And it was an oddly satisfying sense of power not unlike what I had experienced with Mark, but in reverse.
I slipped the fingers of my free hand down again one more time. I pushed my fingers up into that sensitive spot between his legs, right behind his balls one more time.
That was enough, really. That’s what did it. He came so hard.
He thrust into my mouth one more time and he came, his whole cock quivering with the sensation. I sucked him, hard, making certain I wrung every last drop out with my tongue. His whole body was trembling harder now than before, and I moved back enough to let him sink down to his knees, giving him some room to process what had just happened.
As soon as he sat down he looked at me and laughed, slicking his blonde hair away from his face and letting out a huff.
“That was…” he began.
“Amazing?” I prompted, smirking.
“Yeah,” he said. “Really amazing.” He took a minute to bask in it, his cock going limp and hanging between his legs before he leaned over. He patted me on the thigh, gesturing that I should lay back. “Your turn.”
“My what?” I wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to tell me. He just smiled and patted my leg again, more reassuring, also coaxing.
“Your turn,” he said. “Don’t you want to feel good?”
“Well…” Yes, of course I did. “Yes.”
“All right then,” he went to roll up his sleeves but remembered he was only wearing a t-shirt. We both laughed.
I laid back fo
r him and spread my legs, not quite sure what he wanted, expecting him to move his body over mine and push himself into me. Except I wasn’t completely sure how he planned to do that, considering his cock was already going soft.
He didn’t move his cock over me. He only put his mouth between my legs, tracing his tongue down the length of my thigh and lapping out all of the wetness that was there.
At first I was a little embarrassed because I was so wet, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. Actually, he seemed to love it. He pressed his face between my thighs and slipped his tongue over my entrance. He flicked it over my clit, teasing it by flickering back and forth, working me up enough that way that I wasn’t so sure I was going to last as long as he was probably planning.
I whined, my hips gyrating with the heat of his mouth, and it was particularly strange to do so against the kitchen floor. Still, he was finding a way to make it intimate, his hands going underneath my ass and scooping it up, one hand pressed against the small of my back as he kissed my entrance like he would my mouth.
He was French-kissing my pussy.
He slipped his tongue inside, and the wet heat of it was enough to make my eyes roll up and my lashes flutter. I moaned, my hands going down to tangle up in his hair. I pulled him closer, wanting more. I wanted him to devour all of me exactly as he wanted.
I want him to lose himself in me and I wanted to cum so hard for him. His tongue felt so good, going from quick flicks over my clit to long, luxurious strokes with his velvet tongue. He was so wet, so warm, he felt so good.
I never wanted to leave. I wanted to lay on the floor forever and let him do anything he wanted. That seemed to be his intention anyway, so why fight it. He kept stroking his tongue up and down – long, gentle laps – and then pushing it deeper.
I squirmed around the muscle, which thrashed so deeply inside of me that my vision started to go grey. I wrapped my legs around him, pressing my thighs to either side of his face, and rocked back and forth against his mouth, against his chin. I felt him push harder against me, each lick more earnest than the first.
My whole body was starting to tremble. My pleasure was mounting and tightening like a band around my mid-section, and I was powerless to do anything against it. I was just going to explode, and that was all there was to it.
I didn’t even warn him. I had gotten so good about spilling warnings, and yet I didn’t say a word this time. I just felt myself cave. I came all over his mouth – I felt myself tremble against his face, down his chin. He licked up every last bit of it, looking up at me like he had seen Nirvana.
Like it was a religious experience. He shoved his face back in and shook it back and forth, pulling back and then pushing his hands down my thighs, gasping and looking back up at me, shaking his head again.
“That was amazing,” he said. “That was amazing and you were so wet. Fuck.”
“Yeah,” I said, laughing a little out of both exhaustion and exhilaration. My whole head was spinning. Spinning, spinning. I felt so good just then.
“Is there anything more I can do?” He asked, petting me between the legs as if his fingers had never felt something so unbelievably soft before. I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “No, no. You’ve done plenty, believe me. Thank you…” Everything was a little achy, a little numb. It felt good. I felt good. “You should buy me lunch more often.”
He laughed and patted my thigh again. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, clearly. I can see that.”
Chapter Five
DATE FOUR: ALEX
“You don’t look ready,” Alex teased through my screen door. And honestly, I wasn’t. I had forgotten I had a date. Whoops.
Shit. I was in for it. I grinned back at him sheepishly through the screen and unlocked it, stepping back so he could open it up and make his way inside.
“I’m not,” I admitted. It bruised my ego to own up to it. I prided myself on always staying on top of things. “I’m not ready at all. I forgot I had a date.”
“I’m wounded,” he didn’t really seem too hurt. He looked around, his hands in his pockets, as if the state of disarray my house was in was going to give him any clue as to how I could have forgotten.
There was no excuse. I was just awful at remembering things, and the boutique had experienced a couple of crazy-busy days. Or maybe it was all that crippling depression I had been talking to Zoe about. Then again, one would think that getting laid so regularly would have cured that almost immediately. Perhaps sex isn’t the cure for everything. But it gets pretty close most of the time.
“Do you want me to go, then?” He asked. “I don’t want to disturb you if you have planned a nice night in.”
I really didn’t have anything planned. “Oh, no, I won’t ask you to leave.” I said. “We can pop some popcorn and watch a movie. Do you like to watch old movies? Casablanca?”
“Sure,” he said, giving me a genuine smile. “That’s not usually my style. I like to go out, have fun. Wear a lot of glow sticks. I like to drink a lot, that kind of thing. Listen to music with a lot of heavy bass but sure – Casablanca sounds great.”
If we had been more familiar I would have shoved him. I considered doing that anyway. “I was just asking,” I said, sticking out my tongue. “We can watch anything you want.”
“No, no,” he said. “Old movies are perfect. You won’t hear a complaint from me, not a one.”
I went over to the cabinet and grabbed a package of un-popped popcorn, opening up the microwave and tossing it in there. I pressed the worn buttons and the tray inside started spinning. In three minutes or however long we would have popcorn, and then we would have old movies. That was a perfect night for me. “Sorry it’s not really elegant.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “I’ve seen far worse. So, hey! How has everyone been?”
“Everyone has been great,” I said.
“Have you picked a favorite yet?”
“You mean have I picked a winner? No,” I stuck out my tongue. “No cheating. Besides, I haven’t had my date with you yet. So I can’t possibly pick a winner on such incomplete grounds.”
“That makes sense,” he said. “No pressure, of course.”
“Of course,” I tilted my head towards the living room entrance. “Ready?”
He nodded and followed me in, kicking off his shoes as he went. We ended up on the couch together, snuggling up close for the most part. He was a good person to snuggle. Even as buff as he was, with his outlandishly red hair and his playful eyes, he was cozy. I curled up next to him and wedged a popcorn bowl between us. We both knew it wasn’t going to stay there long.
Sure enough, he grabbed the edge of the bowl and lifted it out of the way about mid-movie.
Considering how long Casablanca is, that was an impressive stretch of wait time, in my opinion. Kudos for both of us showing some restraint.
He set the bowl down on the coffee table, turning towards me and resting a hand on my hip. I wasted no time, crawling up until I was laying on top of him, my hands on either side of his face, kissing him recklessly, hungry. He tasted like salt, and it was kind of nice in a weird way.
I pushed my hands through his hair and he ran his hands up my back. I ground my hips down against his, rocking against his erection, spreading my legs a little to try and make it nicer for him.
His hand wandered down and I felt his fingers start to explore. They found the opening in front of my pajama pants, working their way through the slit, pulling on it. I wasn’t wearing underwear, so his fingers just slipped right down.
He could feel how wet I was, already, and his fingers started stroking the outside of my entrance. It was so slick, and it made his fingers slick. He kept pulling them back and forth, teasing, keeping his head turned towards the movie as if he was actually still paying any attention.
I whimpered softly and moaned, unable to pretend. I tried to sink down onto his fingers but they were not angled correctly. It was nearly impossible. I tried to pull my hips back to tr
y and correct the positioning but he wasn’t having it.
He kept pulling his fingers away and not putting them back until I had given up. I was getting frustrated, my desire mounting – I wanted to climb up and straddle his hips and show him who was boss. But it wasn’t going to work that way. I could already tell it was absolutely not going to work that way.
“I want you,” I whispered.
He grinned, I could see it when the screen lit up and the light caught his gleaming white teeth. He pushed his fingers inside, getting them deeper, and I finally allowed myself a long, low moan. I pushed myself down onto his fingers and he wiggled them inside, pushing them as deep as they could go – two at first, then adding a careful third. He twisted his fingers and thrust – and I was already starting to see stars. It felt so good, it made my head dizzy. I didn’t want to do anything other than let him have his way. But I also wanted him. I wanted his cock so badly.
“Please,” I moaned. “Now?”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed softly, pulling his fingers out. He sheathed himself with a condom — I’m guessing he knew what he was in for because ehe’d probably talked with the others — and pulled his pants down just enough to let his cock spring free. He set the band down mid-thigh, and then he took hold of my hips, sliding me up so that he could kiss me again, properly.
His cock slipped through the front of my cute pink-and-white-striped pajama shorts, and it was something like I had never felt before. So constricting, absolutely almost no room to move at all. But at the same time, it made it easier to slide down onto his cock and hold him in place. I seized the opportunity regardless.
I clamped my thighs down around his shaft and rode him that way, letting him slip in and out through the front of my pajama pants – a nice, slow, cozy ride.
I rose and sank on his cock with a steady rhythm, working my way up and down his length. He wasn’t the thickest, but he was the longest. And that made up for a lot when he started thrusting. It felt so good, I wanted to sit up and take more of it, take it harder. But the way he was doing it made anything else impossible.
