Getting the better of your man!
I get so excited when a guy doesn't know what will happen to him.
I'm next to him. He has a beer in one hand, and his other hand is fumbling for nuts—not his own, but from the packet on the coffee table. The World Cup Cricket Semi-Final is going down to the last couple of overs, and is he excited?
But not as enthusiastic as he is soon going to be.
Just thinking of how naughty things will get in the lounge gives me goosebumps, thrills, and a quickening of my breath.
You have to love a Kiwi lad. Apart from a decent rugby team, there's precious little to celebrate on the world's sporting stage. So, I'll console him big time when the Aussies whip their hides on Sunday.
I had a short summery dress, no bra, the skimpiest of silky panties, designed in the sensual, slightly loose style. The ones that allow the fabric to slide and flirt with your softest girly skin parts.
I wait.
The outcome of the match is in the balance. I'm warming myself up, rubbing my fingers across the black silky knickers' fabric from the outside, pushing it into my velvety wet lipettes, freshly shaved and lotioned only ten minutes ago.
Then, a whacking great six is hit off the second last ball; my guy cheers, hands up high. He is so relieved and happy at that exact moment.
I'll give him relief and happiness to rival any goddamn sports event.
My man gulps his beer. He'll need some energy in a moment. He's enjoying the replay of the big hit. He is over-pumped but not as pumped as he will be very soon.
I nudge him across the red leather lounge. I kiss my boyfriend's cheek and search for his lips; his face is rough; he has the two days growth, the prick, but it's hard, and I like my guy hard.
I reach and rub his groin through his shorts. Then flop out his already growing cock into my waiting, energetic hand.
Jean fabric never denied a female with ribald intent.
His head is back; the centre of the world has shifted just like that from near international victory to his needy pecker.
His shorts are off, and his boxers follow; just a T-shirt over his fine chest, but my mind is as focused as his. I'm in love with my guy's cock; proud and upstanding just for me, and he watches as I take it slowly, inch by beautiful thick inch, into my mouth.
My mam doesn't give a fuck about sport! Gradually, with each gob stroke, it becomes more profound and deeper.
"Gugh! Gugh! " I gulpy moan, taking sloppy head.
I work his cock in a varied rhythm; he likes that. I keep him guessing as to what delight will be presented next. I'm a tart; this is unashamed cock worship. I take his whole shaft occasionally, and he gasps. He's amazed at how dirty his lovely girl is, but he loves my adventurous side.
His hand feels for my breast as I keep sucking him thoroughly, generously and crescendo fast.
I understand his need and want to explore me now. His cock; is so hard, so rigid, it will do its duty in a few minutes.
My dress falls to the floor, and my full, shapely breasts are all his. He kisses them in turn. First, he nestles and nuzzles his face into my bountiful cleavage, soft and sure. Then he amps it up, assaulting my rigid nipples by scoring his teeth over their sensitiveness. Then he sucks hard and long on each teat, repeatedly, like he is drawing out my desire for more through my tits.
"Mmm, mmm," I give in appreciation.
I ease across the lounge beside him, spreading my legs comprehensively and up, but my loose, silky panties cover everything. Everything is here, yet it still requires male exposure.
Yes, it's the basic invite; pure male bait; however, it's always taken.
My panties as my last flimsy defence, rubbish; they are my advanced seduction tool.
He tugs them aside with his tongue. No hands; his fricking tongue will shape everything in the next couple of minutes. His prodding tip hits my shaved lips, and then his covering mouth sucks my clit hood up, catching my bud in its covering flesh cowl in his firm, teasing mouth. A girl can ask no more.
"Ah-aah!" my gleeful response.
His fingers finally come into the real game and spread my wet crinkly lipettes and push up my clit hood. He has my sweet rosebud of flesh under his tongue and keeps sweeping the bead that drives and supplies all my desire. After that, I am putty, ready for cock.
But he drives me to the edge of orgasm as he places one finger in me while kissing me, and it gets me really, really wet. I'm super ready.
"Ugh! Ugh! So good, so good! Ugh!" I encourage.
Still, he builds me now; it's two fingers in me like a sensual pussy massage, and his tongue is so frickin busy around my neck and ear lobes.
He offers me a taste of myself. One finger; he has the other. Our eyes meet.
It's the capitulating moment of devastating lust!
He flicks my clit again, but this time gets a finger in my butt, just around the rim. Soft, gentle, secure, and absolute trust.
"Ah-Uh! Ah-Uh," escapes my mouth automatically.
I stun him, though, as I get up, push him back, and take charge. I get that T-shirt off, and I straddle his cock and ride my man, ball deep and pushing up with my whole body and clenching his pecker in his own private love nest.
I'm fast. I'm sure. I'm fully wild, and he loves it.
I hump and hump my man. He can see the intensity on my face. This drives his desire to thrust into my grinding as my mons' pubis hits his pubic bone.
Orgasms send shards of pleasure through two bodies simultaneously.
"Aagghh!" from me.
"Orrgghh!" from my man.
The game result: who cares; he will care eventually, but that's what replays are about!
Ah, sex is the only game with two outright winners.