Straight Female / 36
Saturday Escape
All Saturday morning I waited for my husband and son to leave for the t-ball tournament. The anticipation was torturous. When they finally left, I took a bath and shaved my area - leaving only a landing strip.
I put on a tight polo crop top and short shorts, and drove downtown to the park where Julian had his soccer match.
It was hot and humid outside, and watching him play made me hot and wet. Playing with his shirt off, his tall, lithe athletic body dominated play, deking all over the field with the ball and scoring five goals.
By the time he was done sweat shimmered off his bronze skin, his long hair soaked behind his headband.
He greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and his friends suggested we all go to a nearby patio for drinks. Julian was insistent he “shower” first though, so he and I put his bike in the back of my SUV and drove to his place.
As soon as we entered his airy, spacious loft, he wasted no time. Pinning me against the wall he engaged me in a deep, passionate kiss as his hands worked my waist. I immediately felt his manhood pushing against me through his bulging shorts. I instinctively just lowered them, and his long, thick cock sprang free, snapping up against his stomach. He tore off his shirt and undid my belt and pulled down my shorts and panties. I pumped his cock with my hand, barely able to grasp its circumference as it got harder and harder.
He then moved me and hoisted me onto his graphite countertop. It was cold on my ass at first but it was the perfect height to take the cock from his 6-foot-4 frame. Liifting my legs back he drove his column inside me and I squealed with delight. He began fucking me with slow, languid strokes, his long chiseled body working like a machine. As his pace gradually picked up, so did my moaning. I’ve never had a cock as big as his, and he expertly knows how to use it. As he fucked me I ran my fingers all over his tattooed chest and stomach. I could feel my orgasm building and I knew I would come soon. By now he was fucking me with rapid cadence, and the only sound in his loft was skin slapping and my screams of ecstasy. With every thrust he completely filled me, reaching the back wall of my vagina. When he speedily started worked my clit with his thumb, I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I came hard, my pussy contracting violently around his cock. I bucked hard into him to feel every inch, and my juices squirted out of me.
“The best part of fucking you,” he gasped between his continuing thrusts, “is when you come your skin turns pink.”
I purred like a cat. With a few final thrusts and a loud groan of his own he pulled out of me and shot a rope of hot come all over me. I was still wearing my top and I knew it was now stained. In the moment, I absentmindedly rubbed his warm essence all over my bare torso.
I knew I probably had to wash my crop top and he offered to let me use his washing machine. So, for the next two hours we hung out naked and smoked weed. We had sex three more times on his ottoman, his couch and his bed.
I put on a tight polo crop top and short shorts, and drove downtown to the park where Julian had his soccer match.
It was hot and humid outside, and watching him play made me hot and wet. Playing with his shirt off, his tall, lithe athletic body dominated play, deking all over the field with the ball and scoring five goals.
By the time he was done sweat shimmered off his bronze skin, his long hair soaked behind his headband.
He greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and his friends suggested we all go to a nearby patio for drinks. Julian was insistent he “shower” first though, so he and I put his bike in the back of my SUV and drove to his place.
As soon as we entered his airy, spacious loft, he wasted no time. Pinning me against the wall he engaged me in a deep, passionate kiss as his hands worked my waist. I immediately felt his manhood pushing against me through his bulging shorts. I instinctively just lowered them, and his long, thick cock sprang free, snapping up against his stomach. He tore off his shirt and undid my belt and pulled down my shorts and panties. I pumped his cock with my hand, barely able to grasp its circumference as it got harder and harder.
He then moved me and hoisted me onto his graphite countertop. It was cold on my ass at first but it was the perfect height to take the cock from his 6-foot-4 frame. Liifting my legs back he drove his column inside me and I squealed with delight. He began fucking me with slow, languid strokes, his long chiseled body working like a machine. As his pace gradually picked up, so did my moaning. I’ve never had a cock as big as his, and he expertly knows how to use it. As he fucked me I ran my fingers all over his tattooed chest and stomach. I could feel my orgasm building and I knew I would come soon. By now he was fucking me with rapid cadence, and the only sound in his loft was skin slapping and my screams of ecstasy. With every thrust he completely filled me, reaching the back wall of my vagina. When he speedily started worked my clit with his thumb, I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I came hard, my pussy contracting violently around his cock. I bucked hard into him to feel every inch, and my juices squirted out of me.
“The best part of fucking you,” he gasped between his continuing thrusts, “is when you come your skin turns pink.”
I purred like a cat. With a few final thrusts and a loud groan of his own he pulled out of me and shot a rope of hot come all over me. I was still wearing my top and I knew it was now stained. In the moment, I absentmindedly rubbed his warm essence all over my bare torso.
I knew I probably had to wash my crop top and he offered to let me use his washing machine. So, for the next two hours we hung out naked and smoked weed. We had sex three more times on his ottoman, his couch and his bed.
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