"I am prepared to literally turn up at yours, suck your cock, and then go home again," I texted.
The reply came quickly, and it wasn't just a "Yes". It was a "Fucking yes!"
My attempt at a first blow job had seemed to go down well. Rather, I seemed to have gone down well, and so did his spunk: all down my throat, my lips, my chin, his cock and my hand. And who could blame me for wanting to try again, with such a result? In the back of my mind was the thought that we'd tried starting a tit-wank, but my phone's alarm had started beeping just as we were getting into it, and I was somewhat disappointed. I'd hoped he was too. It was something I'd always wanted to try.
Just like last time, my friend picked me up from the station. I'd been squeezed into the train with all the other commuters on their way home. I smiled to myself when I thought about what I was going to do, and if they would be getting Sexy Time when they got home, too. When I alighted from that sardine carriage, I was rather anxious, as I suffer from panic attacks in crowds. But I concentrated on the fact that soon, I would be in a quiet, dark flat, sucking the willy of a friend who actually got near me when I was naked. That does a lot for a lass's confidence.
Once more, we arrived at my friend's home, and settled onto the sofa. It wasn't long before we got close, and began to kiss. Golly gosh and a bloomin' 'eck, that lad can kiss!
It's true: I know next to nothing about kissing. But I do know I like it, and I do know that I love the feel of my friend's tongue plunging deep into my mouth, a sliding, thrusting search for... what? Reciprocation? I have no idea if I'm any good at kissing, but I am lost with him in my mouth, and I am sure that his hands could go anywhere he wanted them to, if only he would fuck my mouth with his tongue again. Such a simple act seems to waken some sort of animal urge within me, causing my arms to wrap around him tighter, and for heat to wriggle and throb deep inside my pussy.
Perhaps it's a normal thing for everybody about to do Naughty Things, to be awoken inside by deep snogging. Or perhaps I am just so naive and untouched, that any form of contact turns me into a feral harlot, wakening primeval forces that are striving to surface and be sated in orgiastic passion.
I don't know. But I do know that right then, I wanted to suck that man's big, hard cock, and I had no time for analytical bollocks. Only actual bollocks. His.
Whilst he sorted himself out, I stripped off as many of my clothes as I felt happy to (all but my knickers and pink dotty socks), and climbed into his bed.
It was clear to me, as I lay there waiting for him, snuggled under his duvet, that I seem to be getting used to the idea of being almost naked with my friend. He is the only person I have ever taken my clothes off for, and I realised that I must be feeling more comfortable with him. For that moment, I didn't mind, as he climbed in next to me, that my big, squashy boobs didn't stay on top when I rolled on my back, and that they flop sideways when I lie on my side. My friend seems to not just mind them, but rather like them, and again, that does wonders for a lass's confidence. To forget to worry about them is something not only special, but rather sexy.
All I wanted to think about was making him shoot his load. It wasn't hard. The thought, I mean. His cock was massively hard and ready, and there was very little kissing before I moved down the bad and straddled him. I'd already graciously informed him that I was "On The Blobb", so there would be no worries about his hand in my knickers. It was all about his willy in my gob.
Straight away, I lifted his shaft from hard against his stomach, and took him gently to my lips. A few little licks, and then I traversed my way down his underside, to lick and suck on his sac. Every now and again, there would be a little sigh, and I smiled to myself as I worked my tongue softly. It occurred to me that perhaps sucking my friend off would feel different if he were standing up, so I made a note to myself to try that next time.
I moved back up his shaft again, wriggling my tongue from side to side, and pressing my big breasts into his thighs. They enveloped his balls as I pushed them onto him, and I took his head in my mouth.
Already, I could taste a musky tang on my tongue, and the memory of that taste made me gag just a little. I think my reflexes remembered the force with which he had spunked into me last time, and it triggered that moment of struggling for breath whilst he came.
Carefully, I put my little hand around his base, and pulled my head backwards over his ridge. Just as my lips smoothed over his eye, he gave a little involuntary jerk from the passing of my hot, wet mouth over his helmet.
I grinned up at him.
"I like that," he smiled.
I didn't need to be told twice. Again, holding him firmly, I lowered my tightened lips down over his head, and pulled down with my hand as I sucked hard and pulled up over his ridge as strongly as possible. He moaned.
I did it again, and this time, I wriggled my tongue tip over his sweet little thread, combining the hard suck of my lips and deep push of my hand.
Oh yes, my friend liked that!
I took him in further, starting the suck lower and harder, and every time I reached the ridge and passed over it, wriggling my teasing tongue on his underneath, my friend would gasp and give little thrusts.
I liked that. I wondered how deep I could take him. I found that if I tried to move my head up and down to mouth-fuck him that way, he would pop out of my lips. Perhaps it's just my inexpert technique, for which I was sorry, even though the "thwopp" sound made me giggle. He grabbed the base of his cock himself, and held it in such a way that it became harder and stood exactly where I needed it to carry on. Another lesson needed, I told myself, how to control thwopping willies.
I can't remember when he let go, but it made me suck harder.