Straight Male / 65
Sex And The Power Of Words
(continued from Sex When You Least Expect It & Sex On Her Terms Alone)
This seems to be a further installment in The Connie Chronicles. LOL! Well, given the state of reality in our shared world at the present time, and the extended isolation which so many people are having to live within, I suppose it's hardly surprising that my thoughts would turn back to another time and place entirely. Call it escapism, call it life choice assessment. Whatever. Yes, it appears that I've been thinking quite a lot recently of Connie, and of the time we spent together so long ago.
It was a full month before Connie and I reunited once again for one of our sex oriented evenings. Life has a way of moving at its given speed and on its prescribed course. What this timetable really boiled down to was the very steadfast dynamic of 'when', 'where', and 'how' Connie wished to govern our get-togethers. Connie was the one who exercised the control, no question about it. Did that bother me? No, not at all. Sure, it would probably get under the skin of a lot of other guys in a similar situation. But not me. In brief, I had just experienced a turbulent year of drama, ending in a breakup with my girlfriend. I was still very much stinging from that experience -- feeling like the walking wounded, amid a backdrop of unknown possibilities.
Connie had called me from work to invite me to her house. That was sort of unusual, since she usually called me from home sometime late in the afternoon. Very casual. But here came this phone call late in the morning. I guess she wanted to be certain that I wouldn't schedule any other plans that night. Later on, when I arrived, she greeted me at the front door. We stepped through the living room and into the kitchen, where we lingered for a bit. We ended up not eating anything very heavy, we just snacked. That was fine. I really wasn't there for the food.
With my quiet approval, we soon thereafter went together into her bedroom, and laid (still fully clothed) on her large water bed. We talked about things, whatever went flitting through our minds. The subject of music came up, and that's when I was provided with a significant clue as to why Connie had 'put the moves on me' in the first place, after our only being friends, set against her well-known preferences for women. On a previously occasion, I had planned to take a girl I was seeing to a concert. At the last minute, she stood me up, and I got the idea to invite Connie, so the ticket wouldn't go to waste. We had the cheapest seats, which were not seats at all, it was festival seating up on the large grassy lawn above the venue. As the sun set, and the concert's start time approached, it began to get quite nippy. I wore a sweater and an old Army jacket, where as Connie only wore a sweat shirt. I didn't want her to be cold, so I asked her to come sit in my lap, and I'd wrap the oversized Army jacket around us both, with my arms wrapped around her waist from behind. That's how we sat for two full hours. I hadn't meant it in any provocative way. But it became clear through some of the things she said, as we reclined on her bed, that the night-long embrace had started to give her... ideas about me, ideas about us.
Then all at once, she re-positioned herself on the bed, and fell back onto one of the pillows, looked straight into my eyes and proceeded to say: "So, here I am. And you can do anything you want." Those words, the reality of her actually saying that, sent my mind reeling with all the possibilities. I smiled, and said with a mock-sinister tone: "ANYTHING?" She nodded, half smiling, but with a sense about her which clearly indicated that she was completely serious as well.
I didn't beat around the bush. I moved right away to relieve her of her t-shirt, her bra, and her faded jeans. There she laid before me, looking right back at me with those large gorgeous brown eyes, clad only her skimpy panties. All at once, there was something arousing about leaving them on her, at least for the present. I similarly made quick work of sheading my own clothes, and then slowly moved in to loom above her, gazing down, until I sank in to devour her quizzically parted lips with my own, diving into a very deep, wet kiss. I invaded her welcoming mouth with my tongue, and met hers in hot-breathed competition to be the first to heave the deepest, most abandoning sigh. I pressed my body onto hers, I felt her incredible softness, her curves, her skin temperature, her evermore excited movements. Her large breasts were caressing my chest, just as I felt her hand reach around and grip the back of my head, to pull me in even more closely amid our wet kisses. I sucked her tongue deeper into my mouth, then she sucked mine in the same way. We breathed each other's fiery breath, and sighed and moaned in choirs with our pounding heartbeats. This went on for quite a long while, as we literally lost ourselves, and all conscious concerns, to our shared fever to ravage one another.
When we parted, it was only to reposition ourselves. I removed her panties, pulled her around to where she was aimed in the opposite direction to me, and we fell into the 69 position. I purposely kept her underneath me, because I wanted to seize a little control, owing to her offer. As I leaned down to pull her legs apart and sink into licking her pussy, I also moved my pelvis into position and plunged my swollen cock into her warm mouth, to the hilt. I made her take it all, with no preliminaries. I felt her wet mouth and tongue engulfing and swirling my throbbing shaft, and she moaned with consistent fervor, sending that heavenly vibration through my cock and balls, and into all the rest of me, too. I began to pump in and out of her mouth, slowly at first, but soon rather wildly. It brought the most intense pleasure I had ever experienced with anybody. It was phenomenal.
I allowed my light-headedness to fuel my determination to tongue-fuck her tight vagina, then suck into my mouth her oh so sensitive clit. I wanted to make her cum with my cock crammed in her mouth, I wanted to feel her muffled moans and gasps through the sensor of my blood-gorged penis. And it wasn't very long at all until that came to happen. I doubled-down on her clit with my tongue's attack, as she squirmed and lurched beneath my body weight, with my cock effectively plugging her mouth. The vibration was on a scale that was so intense, I could suddenly feel my orgasm build, then take the fast-track toward becoming imminent. I had a choice to make, and amid my clouded judgement, I opted to deny all constraints. I stayed where I was, I didn't withdraw. Her words sounded in my mind: "anything you want".
As she was still contending with the immediate aftermath of her own seismic orgasm event, owing in great measure to her vibrating verbalizations, I abruptly exploded in her mouth. My cock shot its entire load over her tongue, to fill up her mouth. I could feel her struggling to swallow, to keep ahead of the next gush of semen, and then to swallow that one ahead of yet another. It wasn't an effortless thing for her to carry off, but all at once, I came to suspect that it was something she wanted to experience, especially after she had told me how good my pre-cum tasted during out previous visit. Ordinarily, I might've tried to pull away much sooner than I did, but I could feel her tighter grip on my body, in order to hold me right where I was. Yes, that was the act of control which she seized. She wanted me to do that, she had wanted all along to have the experience of me fucking her mouth, and ultimately fill it with my hot sperm.
We finally rolled onto our backs, as we both breathed heavily, though gripping each other's hands, and intermittently squeezing. She sighed again. We laid there for a while, first in contented silence, and then quietly talking about the intensity of what we had just experienced. Under normal circumstances, we might've been done for the night. But we were not. Not yet. Our discussion caused my cock to harden again. Oops! I laughingly asked if I could still do whatever I wanted. She smiled and replied: "Please do."
I reached over to pull her on top of me, I motioned for her to sit up, and I grabbed my cock to sink it into her pussy from below. She happily sat back onto me, and we both felt my length slide all the way in. She was so unbelievably wet, and so inconceivably tight, too. I said: "God, you are so tight!" She laughed and replied: "Guys like that, don't they?" I offered no argument. I nodded with spirited approval, and then cautioned her that she would need to be prepared to jump off of me before I came. Then she rode me. She waved her arms in the air and exclaimed: "Ride 'em, cowboy!!!" She rode me, she took great pleasure in ravaging my cock with her vice-grip vagina, she fuck-pounded me for a change, and called my name throughout it. She came again, as did I, and in the end, she put me up all hot and wet.
This seems to be a further installment in The Connie Chronicles. LOL! Well, given the state of reality in our shared world at the present time, and the extended isolation which so many people are having to live within, I suppose it's hardly surprising that my thoughts would turn back to another time and place entirely. Call it escapism, call it life choice assessment. Whatever. Yes, it appears that I've been thinking quite a lot recently of Connie, and of the time we spent together so long ago.
It was a full month before Connie and I reunited once again for one of our sex oriented evenings. Life has a way of moving at its given speed and on its prescribed course. What this timetable really boiled down to was the very steadfast dynamic of 'when', 'where', and 'how' Connie wished to govern our get-togethers. Connie was the one who exercised the control, no question about it. Did that bother me? No, not at all. Sure, it would probably get under the skin of a lot of other guys in a similar situation. But not me. In brief, I had just experienced a turbulent year of drama, ending in a breakup with my girlfriend. I was still very much stinging from that experience -- feeling like the walking wounded, amid a backdrop of unknown possibilities.
Connie had called me from work to invite me to her house. That was sort of unusual, since she usually called me from home sometime late in the afternoon. Very casual. But here came this phone call late in the morning. I guess she wanted to be certain that I wouldn't schedule any other plans that night. Later on, when I arrived, she greeted me at the front door. We stepped through the living room and into the kitchen, where we lingered for a bit. We ended up not eating anything very heavy, we just snacked. That was fine. I really wasn't there for the food.
With my quiet approval, we soon thereafter went together into her bedroom, and laid (still fully clothed) on her large water bed. We talked about things, whatever went flitting through our minds. The subject of music came up, and that's when I was provided with a significant clue as to why Connie had 'put the moves on me' in the first place, after our only being friends, set against her well-known preferences for women. On a previously occasion, I had planned to take a girl I was seeing to a concert. At the last minute, she stood me up, and I got the idea to invite Connie, so the ticket wouldn't go to waste. We had the cheapest seats, which were not seats at all, it was festival seating up on the large grassy lawn above the venue. As the sun set, and the concert's start time approached, it began to get quite nippy. I wore a sweater and an old Army jacket, where as Connie only wore a sweat shirt. I didn't want her to be cold, so I asked her to come sit in my lap, and I'd wrap the oversized Army jacket around us both, with my arms wrapped around her waist from behind. That's how we sat for two full hours. I hadn't meant it in any provocative way. But it became clear through some of the things she said, as we reclined on her bed, that the night-long embrace had started to give her... ideas about me, ideas about us.
Then all at once, she re-positioned herself on the bed, and fell back onto one of the pillows, looked straight into my eyes and proceeded to say: "So, here I am. And you can do anything you want." Those words, the reality of her actually saying that, sent my mind reeling with all the possibilities. I smiled, and said with a mock-sinister tone: "ANYTHING?" She nodded, half smiling, but with a sense about her which clearly indicated that she was completely serious as well.
I didn't beat around the bush. I moved right away to relieve her of her t-shirt, her bra, and her faded jeans. There she laid before me, looking right back at me with those large gorgeous brown eyes, clad only her skimpy panties. All at once, there was something arousing about leaving them on her, at least for the present. I similarly made quick work of sheading my own clothes, and then slowly moved in to loom above her, gazing down, until I sank in to devour her quizzically parted lips with my own, diving into a very deep, wet kiss. I invaded her welcoming mouth with my tongue, and met hers in hot-breathed competition to be the first to heave the deepest, most abandoning sigh. I pressed my body onto hers, I felt her incredible softness, her curves, her skin temperature, her evermore excited movements. Her large breasts were caressing my chest, just as I felt her hand reach around and grip the back of my head, to pull me in even more closely amid our wet kisses. I sucked her tongue deeper into my mouth, then she sucked mine in the same way. We breathed each other's fiery breath, and sighed and moaned in choirs with our pounding heartbeats. This went on for quite a long while, as we literally lost ourselves, and all conscious concerns, to our shared fever to ravage one another.
When we parted, it was only to reposition ourselves. I removed her panties, pulled her around to where she was aimed in the opposite direction to me, and we fell into the 69 position. I purposely kept her underneath me, because I wanted to seize a little control, owing to her offer. As I leaned down to pull her legs apart and sink into licking her pussy, I also moved my pelvis into position and plunged my swollen cock into her warm mouth, to the hilt. I made her take it all, with no preliminaries. I felt her wet mouth and tongue engulfing and swirling my throbbing shaft, and she moaned with consistent fervor, sending that heavenly vibration through my cock and balls, and into all the rest of me, too. I began to pump in and out of her mouth, slowly at first, but soon rather wildly. It brought the most intense pleasure I had ever experienced with anybody. It was phenomenal.
I allowed my light-headedness to fuel my determination to tongue-fuck her tight vagina, then suck into my mouth her oh so sensitive clit. I wanted to make her cum with my cock crammed in her mouth, I wanted to feel her muffled moans and gasps through the sensor of my blood-gorged penis. And it wasn't very long at all until that came to happen. I doubled-down on her clit with my tongue's attack, as she squirmed and lurched beneath my body weight, with my cock effectively plugging her mouth. The vibration was on a scale that was so intense, I could suddenly feel my orgasm build, then take the fast-track toward becoming imminent. I had a choice to make, and amid my clouded judgement, I opted to deny all constraints. I stayed where I was, I didn't withdraw. Her words sounded in my mind: "anything you want".
As she was still contending with the immediate aftermath of her own seismic orgasm event, owing in great measure to her vibrating verbalizations, I abruptly exploded in her mouth. My cock shot its entire load over her tongue, to fill up her mouth. I could feel her struggling to swallow, to keep ahead of the next gush of semen, and then to swallow that one ahead of yet another. It wasn't an effortless thing for her to carry off, but all at once, I came to suspect that it was something she wanted to experience, especially after she had told me how good my pre-cum tasted during out previous visit. Ordinarily, I might've tried to pull away much sooner than I did, but I could feel her tighter grip on my body, in order to hold me right where I was. Yes, that was the act of control which she seized. She wanted me to do that, she had wanted all along to have the experience of me fucking her mouth, and ultimately fill it with my hot sperm.
We finally rolled onto our backs, as we both breathed heavily, though gripping each other's hands, and intermittently squeezing. She sighed again. We laid there for a while, first in contented silence, and then quietly talking about the intensity of what we had just experienced. Under normal circumstances, we might've been done for the night. But we were not. Not yet. Our discussion caused my cock to harden again. Oops! I laughingly asked if I could still do whatever I wanted. She smiled and replied: "Please do."
I reached over to pull her on top of me, I motioned for her to sit up, and I grabbed my cock to sink it into her pussy from below. She happily sat back onto me, and we both felt my length slide all the way in. She was so unbelievably wet, and so inconceivably tight, too. I said: "God, you are so tight!" She laughed and replied: "Guys like that, don't they?" I offered no argument. I nodded with spirited approval, and then cautioned her that she would need to be prepared to jump off of me before I came. Then she rode me. She waved her arms in the air and exclaimed: "Ride 'em, cowboy!!!" She rode me, she took great pleasure in ravaging my cock with her vice-grip vagina, she fuck-pounded me for a change, and called my name throughout it. She came again, as did I, and in the end, she put me up all hot and wet.
