An Untold Story

I mentioned this day to someone recently and went to find the blog post.  I was surprised to find I never wrote about this.  Here is a retelling of a fun trip to Seattle where I met with an old coworker and then had dinner with him and some friends (unfortunately short for lack of recollection of more details).

I have a thing for corporate men: tailored suits, wingtips, french cuffs with cufflinks, smart ties; everything that screams confidence and control.  But even more so, the end of the day look with the tie now loosened, neck button undone, cuffs open and rolled up his forearms, sitting in a chair with drink in hand, the ice clinking softly...

I'm kneeling in front of him wearing only panties.  He lets me touch him.  I unbuckle and unbutton his slacks, and hold his cock in my hand, running my thumb up and down the underside of him.  I look at him for permission and he gives it with a nod.  I take him full in my mouth closing my lips around his cock, slowly moving up and down, enjoying the feeling of him in my mouth. We have dinner plans soon so he takes over, hands in my hair, setting a steady, but not too fast pace.  He wants me pretty, so this is no fast and dirty face fuck.

He's about to cum and stops, telling me to kneel presented with my face laying on the floor.  He takes his now empty drink and finishes himself off, cumming in the glass.  I am allowed up and get dressed and we clean up.  He brews me a cup of coffee, adding his cum and we head out to meet our friends at the restaurant.

I sit with our friends, talking, eating; all the while sipping on my coffee and his cum.

He winks at me.

A Tinder Story with an Irishman: New York City - Two Swipes Right and then...

CT: Good morning. Confirming for our coffee. I can be there at 9:30. Still feeling playful?:)

Me: Lol. We'll see.

CT: Grand. Jeans. Green jacket. Tan cap. Brogue: Peaky Blinders meets urban outdoorsman.
What are you wearing?

Me: Jeans, black t-shirt, light grey jacket.

--------------------

The day was bright and warm. I get to the Starbucks early, grab my drink, and sit at the table to wait for him. It was noisy and hot in the cafe. Not exactly conducive to conversation.

He's running late; "the train is a bloody nightmare."

I'm sweating by the time he gets there. He orders his drink and we take it outside and decide to start walking north towards Central Park with no particular destination.

He's taller than me. Slim build with ruggedly handsome features. He resembles his profile picture, but doesn't really look like it. But that's not out of the ordinary in my Tinder experience; especially if the angles are not head on.

We talk about our backgrounds and current lives and what we should do for the afternoon. Decision made: day drinking. I'm slightly hung over, so to me, this is a great idea. We walk to several pubs. It's 10am and nothing is open. Perfect time to go back to the hotel so I can check out and change into sneakers.

I start to pack and he sits in the armchair in the corner watching. He tells me to stop packing and come over to him.

I stand between his legs and take his cap off.

"Kiss me." I obliged.

Those lips. Full and soft. I suck his bottom lip into my mouth, dragging my teeth along it as I let it go. He runs his tongue along my lips...

I love a good kiss and he kisses very well. Sensuous & soft; hungry & rough...

I've described sipping my favorite Scotch (Oban) by comparing it to a really great kiss: a hint of smoke, a layer of sweetness, spicy on the tongue, salty, warmth that builds to heat, a bite at the end. That was his kiss.

"Kneel"

"Yes, daddy"

He unbuckles his belt. "I want you to start here." I rub his hard cock through the fabric.

While I was unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans he reminds me: "Yes daddy."

"Yes, daddy," I reply. God I am so out of practice. But this is fun. I'm having fun. I'm pretty sure I smirked through the whole thing.

I pull his jeans down and wrap my hand around his cock.

Let's talk about cocks. There are as many personal preferences in cocks as there are individual cocks, not to mention that your preferences might change depending on who you partner is at the time. CT has a quintessentially perfect cock: thick, hard, and long. Too long to take completely in my mouth, but just so.

As I took him into my mouth, he removed my hand from the base of his cock. No hands allowed.

He used his hands, though. He held his hand lightly under my chin, and as I would move up and down his shaft, building from long, slow strokes into a faster rhythm, he would lift me off of his cock, or just hold me still; not letting me move. Other times he would twine his fingers into my hair and force my rhythm.

This was a slow, lazy blow job.

I ran my tongue up and down his cock, tasting and feeling him, taking him almost fully into my mouth and breathing him in. He liked that. "Deep throat my cock."

"Yes daddy."

He let me do what I wanted for the most part. I wanted to milk him so badly and make him beg me to let him cum. But he controlled that, forcing himself deep into my throat, or making me stop when he got close. A firm smack to my cheek reminded me anytime I didn't stop when told, or when I forgot "yes, daddy."

Eye contact. Not a request: "Look at me." Not something I'm usually comfortable with or ever do, but for him, I did. "And don't even think about not swallowing." No complaints: There was lots of pre-cum and he tasted good.

"Make me cum." Finally he let me finish him off. Long, slow strokes. Sucking on the tip. Taking him as far I my mouth as I could. Stroking my tongue at the base.

He held me there as he came, pulsing in my mouth.

--------------------

Back on the streets, we find a pub and have some pints and fries.

And my panties are so wet.

Sharing...

Quantum Satis

Breathe.

For the time I allow you.
Breathe.
And find your body tighten as my hands do.
Breathe.
And feel yourself betrayed by goosebumps and wetness.
Breathe.
And watch as your mind collapses into a vortex of pure pleasure.
Breathe.
As I make you mine.
-Quantum Satis 

I Miss

Kneeling
Your hand in my hair holding me down
Looking for handprints the next morning
Being told not to come
The taste of you
The ease of it all
You

After

Laying with my back to your chest; your feet tucked under mine and your arm wrapped around my waist holding me close to you.  I listen as your breathing slows and you fall asleep.

Smiling, I close my eyes and follow. 

Snapshots From the Night and Morning

Laying on the couch, you're standing next to it.  Hooking you with my leg and pulling you closer

Walking up to you while you sit, getting on my knees - kneeling in front of you

Your hands tangled in my hair as you come deep in my throat

Biting my arm as your mouth, lips and tongue tease me - finding everything but my clit

Getting dressed in your closet, pausing as I watch you shave

Checking myself in the mirror, looking at you and seeing you wink at me

Driving away, my arm flexes and I feel the bruise from my bite

Thinking About You...

I'm laying in bed thinking about you - thinking about last night.

My fingers trace a path.  

First along my lips - bruised from your mouth. I run my tongue along my fingers, recalling my taste on yours. 

Down my neck. I remember leaning back against you as you bite where my neck and shoulder meet.

They skim over my breasts to my nipples, still swollen and sore...

Slowly they work their way down over my belly. And lower still until they rest on my clit.  I reach down inside me to wet my fingers and run them up and around my clit.  The fingers of my other hand find that spot inside me you work so well.

I come just as you made me come last night - moaning your name.