nods again. “Then that’s what I’m about to do. I’ll let you work for a little while, but then I’m taking over.” She works it, letting her lips slide down, down, down, until I feel the head of my cock hit the back of her throat and her lips almost seat themselves at its base. Boy oh boy, this woman knows what she’s doing.
My takeover never happens. I just get lost in what she’s doing, how it feels, how she looks, and I know my eyes must be glazed over, but I really don’t care. It’s like magic, watching my dick disappear and reappear like a cuckoo in a clock, her eyes watering and nose running as she takes it down again and again, never stopping more than a few seconds. I realize I’m gripping the piping on the edges of the sofa cushions with my hands, and I start to shake all over. She’s got me, controlling me, owning me with that rosy mouth of hers, and I’m trying so hard to keep from coming, trying to make it last, and I don’t know how long I can. “Sweet lord, baby, you’re tormenting me, know that? It’s torture, girl.”
What she does next surprises me. As she keeps up the steady rhythm, she stands and works while she’s bent over. I’m trying to figure out what she’s doing, and then it’s clear: She’s undressing. That’s a neat trick. She’s got on a blouse that buttons up the front – how convenient. When she’s completely bare, she reaches for the waistband of my pants and I raise my ass up just enough for her to pull them down. In the meantime, I yank my tee shirt over my head and try to throw it on the floor, but she grabs it instead.
All of that activity has distracted me a bit, but not much, and I’m peaking all over again. She’s shifting somehow, and then I hear that familiar sound of foil ripping. Next thing I know, she’s up, rolls a condom onto my stony shaft, and proceeds to mount me. Once she’s fully seated on my cock, she puts my tee shirt to her face, blows her nose, wipes her face, and then leans in and kisses me. Sultry describes it to the letter when those big, hard nipples brush my chest. I just stay reclined against the back of the sofa while she braces herself, hands on my shoulders, and lifts and falls, those ripe tits bouncing just a little each time she hits bottom. I can’t say a word; I’m too wrapped up in the way her body is undulating. The flush that spreads across her chest, up her neck, onto her cheeks and down to the tops of her tits lights me up like a Christmas tree. Everything about her says sex, and it’s overwhelming.
Without warning, I come. I was trying so hard not to, but when I do, she slams up and down on me a half dozen times and trembles with her own orgasm. Finally falling forward on my chest, she wraps her arms around my waist and I do the same with her. My kiss applied to the top of her head makes her purr. “Girl, you are just full of surprises.”
I hear a little giggle. “I know. I’ve always been like that. My friends call me Captain Random because you never know what I’m going to do next.”
“That’s fun!”
“Not always.” Pressing her hands into my chest, she pushes herself upright, my dick still buried in her. “It can be annoying. Like deciding on the spur of the moment to pick up German food.”
“No, that’s charming.”
“As long as you’re not busy, especially as long as you’re not busy with someone else.”
That takes me by surprise. “Sheila, I told you, there is no one else.”
“I know you said that, but . . .”
“But what?”
She shakes her head. “Look at you. You’re like a Norse god. Every woman in the restaurant the other night was eyeing you, and about seventy-five percent of them were drooling too.” There’s a long pause, and then she asks, “Steffen, are you . . .”
“No. Again, I’m telling you, there’s. No. One. Else. I’ve never made it a habit to date more than one woman at a time. It gets too complicated, and it also gets in the way of growing a
My takeover never happens. I just get lost in what she’s doing, how it feels, how she looks, and I know my eyes must be glazed over, but I really don’t care. It’s like magic, watching my dick disappear and reappear like a cuckoo in a clock, her eyes watering and nose running as she takes it down again and again, never stopping more than a few seconds. I realize I’m gripping the piping on the edges of the sofa cushions with my hands, and I start to shake all over. She’s got me, controlling me, owning me with that rosy mouth of hers, and I’m trying so hard to keep from coming, trying to make it last, and I don’t know how long I can. “Sweet lord, baby, you’re tormenting me, know that? It’s torture, girl.”
What she does next surprises me. As she keeps up the steady rhythm, she stands and works while she’s bent over. I’m trying to figure out what she’s doing, and then it’s clear: She’s undressing. That’s a neat trick. She’s got on a blouse that buttons up the front – how convenient. When she’s completely bare, she reaches for the waistband of my pants and I raise my ass up just enough for her to pull them down. In the meantime, I yank my tee shirt over my head and try to throw it on the floor, but she grabs it instead.
All of that activity has distracted me a bit, but not much, and I’m peaking all over again. She’s shifting somehow, and then I hear that familiar sound of foil ripping. Next thing I know, she’s up, rolls a condom onto my stony shaft, and proceeds to mount me. Once she’s fully seated on my cock, she puts my tee shirt to her face, blows her nose, wipes her face, and then leans in and kisses me. Sultry describes it to the letter when those big, hard nipples brush my chest. I just stay reclined against the back of the sofa while she braces herself, hands on my shoulders, and lifts and falls, those ripe tits bouncing just a little each time she hits bottom. I can’t say a word; I’m too wrapped up in the way her body is undulating. The flush that spreads across her chest, up her neck, onto her cheeks and down to the tops of her tits lights me up like a Christmas tree. Everything about her says sex, and it’s overwhelming.
Without warning, I come. I was trying so hard not to, but when I do, she slams up and down on me a half dozen times and trembles with her own orgasm. Finally falling forward on my chest, she wraps her arms around my waist and I do the same with her. My kiss applied to the top of her head makes her purr. “Girl, you are just full of surprises.”
I hear a little giggle. “I know. I’ve always been like that. My friends call me Captain Random because you never know what I’m going to do next.”
“That’s fun!”
“Not always.” Pressing her hands into my chest, she pushes herself upright, my dick still buried in her. “It can be annoying. Like deciding on the spur of the moment to pick up German food.”
“No, that’s charming.”
“As long as you’re not busy, especially as long as you’re not busy with someone else.”
That takes me by surprise. “Sheila, I told you, there is no one else.”
“I know you said that, but . . .”
“But what?”
She shakes her head. “Look at you. You’re like a Norse god. Every woman in the restaurant the other night was eyeing you, and about seventy-five percent of them were drooling too.” There’s a long pause, and then she asks, “Steffen, are you . . .”
“No. Again, I’m telling you, there’s. No. One. Else. I’ve never made it a habit to date more than one woman at a time. It gets too complicated, and it also gets in the way of growing a
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