It was only our third time together and already I liked giving this man blow jobs. At least those were the thoughts I was having as we cuddled on the couch with my head lying on his chest. His strong heartbeat was almost back to normal. Hearing it was keeping my own heart fluttering rapidly.
Just a few minutes earlier he was fucking me like he was some sort of savage king. He made me feel like his harlot as I lay on my back with my legs spread wide for him. I had never been fucked so hard yet my fingers gripped his buttocks like talons pulling him into me even more as I pleaded for him to fuck me harder and harder. His cock was big and thick yet I still couldn’t get enough of him.
I don’t know how loud I actually got but my mind was screaming in orgasm as he filled me with his seed. I wailed on as he continued to thrust into me until the thick fluid he pumped in began to leak out, past the seal of my pussy lips to flow down along the crack of my ass. My legs at that point had wrapped too tightly around his back for him to pull out. By the time my grip relaxed he was rocking gently against me with the weight of his body smothering my noise to little more than whimpers.
I already knew I loved him but it was too early to tell him. Besides, we were both married to other people.
Listening to his heart just returning to normal I wanted to take his limp cock in my mouth and get him hard again but wondered what he might think of me if I did. I either wanted to feel his pounding cock making me come again or I wanted the silky sensation of his semen spreading to every corner of my mouth again. I didn't care, I just knew I was far from done. In fact I felt like we were just beginning.
Our fantastic fuck was the second time he came that night. The evening had begun with a blowjob.
BJ's are something I've given since high school, always dutifully swallowing, impressing the man, occasionally even liking it, but I never loved it like I did with this guy. I had sucked his cock and swallowed his cum each of the other two times we had sex together. I had already grown obsessed with his cock. Maybe it was because he was so joyful, maybe because he tasted so good or maybe because his gorgeous cock was just so perfect.
On second thought it was probably because he made me orgasm. A man hasn’t brought me to orgasm in years, not with his cock really, not since I became a widow at the age of twenty three. Anyway, since then men would try, oh God how they would try to make me cum, but in the end it was my own imagination that would do the trick by conjuring up ridiculously sexy things. Most often I would create in my mind scenarios of people watching me having sex.
I often imagined people watching me through the windows while I gave head. I would suck on the guy's cock while fingering myself to orgasm as I pictured the neighborhood boys jostling each other along the side of the house for a better look through my windows.
In another common fantasy I was the girl in hot pants at a boxing match who pranced about the ring between rounds holding the large number cards until the six or seventh rounds when the boxers couldn’t take the tease of me any longer. Any of the many men I had sex with after I was widowed, including my second husband might have been fucking himself off inside me while my mind was elsewhere, filled with the images of both boxers excited enough to join forces and fuck me senseless right there in the ring in front of the rowdy crowd without even bothering to remove their gloves.
Soon it became too much trouble to even bother with a man and his cock. I came to prefer masturbation with nothing but the company of my imagination. My poor second husband hardly ever got sex from me in recent years.
So here I was on my third night with this man, Peter, the only man I’ve been with since I remarried. Peter was the only man in almost 20 years to drive me past my own fantasies into breathless orgasms on only the sensations of his cock as it pushed and throbbed inside my pussy. He filled my mind as well as the space between my legs. Ah, the sublime joy of penetrative intercourse, penetrative orgasm.
Like I said, the night started with a BJ, or more exactly a short but passionate bit of kissing before I took the initiative to slide off the couch, kneel between his legs, open his pants and take his cock into my mouth. In less then three minutes a musky blast of cum literally exploded inside my mouth.
I was surprised when he kissed me shortly after I swallowed it. My mouth still felt coated with cum. I wished for some water to rinse it down but he just pulled me back up onto the couch and kissed me, all tongues gone wild, while his hands undressed me like we were two high-school kids in the back seat of a car.
He fingered me and never stopped kissing me until after I was good and wet when he lifted his wet fingers to his mouth and sucked on them just an inch away from my lips, so close I smelled myself on them. Then he dipped his fingers into my pussy again, pushing deeper. Oh my god, it felt even better than before. Then when he brought his fingers up he pushed them into my mouth.
I was shocked! My eyes opened wide in surprise! I had never tasted myself before, not really ever. For the first time I realized I tasted OK. Even though I had always enjoyed sucking cock and almost always swallowed cum, I never did it after sex and I certainly never liked the thought of a man’s face down there on me, down there in my private dirty part.
Pete overrode that and commandingly pinned my legs back with his big hands pushing behind my knees and began doing things with his tongue that I never felt before. It was partly the good taste I had of myself that let me relax to enjoy the movement of his tongue down there and the electricity it made course through my entire body.I taste OK!
, I thought to myself more than once, I taste good!
, and I lay back enjoying the new sensations that brought me to the very edge of orgasm. That’s when he started fucking me so long and hard, bringing out the savage harlot in me.
No one had done it before, taken my body to such an amazing place like that before, neither my first husband who died so long before my sexuality had matured nor my second and current one. When he recited his wedding vows the day we married he might as well have been reciting a eulogy for my soon to be buried sex life.
As it turns out my sex life was only near dead, brought so very much back to life on the force of Pete’s talented tongue, his strong body and his amazing cock.
Even though I had put my thong back on I could feel my pussy begin to leak his cream around it onto the couch as I listened to his heart. So instead of yielding to my desire to take his dick in my mouth I got up and went to the bathroom to clean up a bit.
When I returned Pete sat back smiling a kind of self satisfied Cheshire grin, his cock against one thigh as it arched flaccid over his balls. I slid down onto the floor between his legs and continued our conversation with my arm draped over his knee and my eyes at the level of his gorgeous cock. As we talked I nonchalantly slid my hand over it and began massage the softness and the area around it. Our conversation didn’t stop but carried on with me seemingly absentmindedly touching and caressing his soft member. My mind was anything but absent minded. Indeed all I could think about was feeling it in my mouth again.
When his cock began to stiffen. I rose to my knees. I wanted to feel it grow and harden in my mouth and modesty be damned I closed my mouth around it and sucked it in. Within seconds it was fully hard, amazingly hard and I was only able to take about half of it into my mouth.
“Smile," Pete said and when I looked up my eyes were struck by the flash of a camera as he snapped a picture.
“Hey!!!” I said as my mouth dropped his cock so fast it slapped against his stomach. I reached for the camera. He pulled it back over his head, out of reach.
“Relax," he said, “It’s a digital camera. You just looked so beautiful with my cock in your mouth I couldn’t resist," he said laughing. “We can erase it, but let’s look at it first.”
I sat next to him on the couch with my head on his shoulder as we looked at the little screen on the back of the camera. My face, too bright in the flash, was all distended as my mouth stretched around the girth of his thick cock. My eyes showed surprise and my hair was a mess.
“Eeeeoouuu,” I said, “that’s ugly. Erase it.”
“No,” Pete said, “Don’t worry, no one will ever see it but it looks so sexy to me.”
“No! No! No! you have to erase it, please.” I said.
“Ok I’ll make you a deal. If you let me take more, say, twenty more, I’ll let you decide which one I get to keep,” he said.
“What if I don’t like any of them?” I asked.
Then we’ll take more until you see one you like enough to let me keep.”
I looked down at his cock, already loosing it’s hardness. I took it in my hand and curled my fingers around it. “And we’ll delete all the rest?” I asked.
“As soon as there’s one you like.” He said.
So I slid back down onto my knees between his legs. First I just teased cock by sticking my tongue out and licking the head of it.
Pete was snapping pictures the whole time. I blew on his head as if I were trying to cool it off. I posed for a few shots with my eyes and mouth comically wide. I used my hands while I smiled at him and put my mouth over the head. I sucked a ball into my mouth then licked the length of his shaft.
We looked at the pictures together and they looked much better. They were more playful and Pete had turned the flash off giving the pictures a warmer glow. I slid back down between his legs.
Pretty soon, with the camera clicking constantly I was sucking his cock as intently as ever. Just when I was was taking his cock as deep in my throat as I could Pete pushed my head down hard and quickly released it. The head of his cock passed through my throat and I came up sputtering with my eyes watering.
“Hey!” I said but Pete just kept taking pictures and laughing.
“Sorry,” he said still laughing and snapping pictures, “I couldn’t resist.
I knew he wasn’t sorry, but I had an idea to give him even more.
“Get up,” I said. There was something I remembered from one of the lame how-to-sex videos my husband bought online. I barely tried any of the stuff from the videos with him, but now I wanted to try one of the things with Pete. I wanted to play to the camera and see if I could deep throat like in the how-to video.
I arranged a bunch of the throw pillows to create a ramp against one arm of the couch. Then I laid on the couch face up with my head tilted back over the arm.
“OK,” I said to Pete, “Lets see how deep you can go now,” and I opened my mouth. Pete kept snapping pictures as he stood at the end of the couch pushing his cock into my mouth. At first I had my hand on the front of his thigh but after a few strokes I moved it around the side with my fingers spurring him on until his balls covered my eyes. Just as the video had instructed, my throat opened up so the head of his cock and more could pass through without making me gag. I had made his cock completely disappear.
It was not without pain and I remained on the verge of gagging with my eyes watering but Pete was amazed!
“Holy shit, Jane!” he said snapping pictures like mad “Holy fucking shit!, that’s awesome!” I used my hand on the outside of his thigh to guide his pace and depth as he moved his cock gently in and out of my mouth.
When he put one hand on the side of my head and gripped my hair I felt a bit of satisfaction that I had taken him past the ability to take pictures. My throat had grown numb and my gag reflex was totally relaxed. When I felt his other fingers slide behind my neck and he gripped my head with both hands I could tell he was beginning to loose control.
I didn’t care what happened to the camera. All I could think about was his cock sliding all they way down my throat with more and more abandon. I had never given myself so completely to a man. I felt like such a slut. I was amazing myself with the vigorous deep throat face fucking I was enduring and maintaining just enough control to keep from drowning in my own saliva.
Apparently I was amazing Pete as well. “Holy fuck Jane,” He said, “Holy fuck, I’m gonna cum already! I'm gonna cum on your face!"
I dug my fingers deeper into his thigh to spur him on. I didn’t care where he came I just wanted him to cum for the third time that night.
When he pulled out I moved my hand from his leg to his cock. His hand arrived at the same time to grip himself. We stroked his slick wet shaft together quickly and cum oozed out of the tip of his cock into my open mouth and slid easily down my throat.
We had taken over 150 photos even before Pete threw the camera down to grip my head with both hands. We sat together on the sofa scrolling through, looking at each one of them on the back of the camera. We saved 10 of them. Pete liked the ones with just the head of his cock in my lips so you could see his impressive shaft before it went into my throat. I like the ones where his cock was triumphantly buried.
Since then the camera has become a regular voyeur to our lovemaking. Fueled by my own vanity the act of playing to the camera has helped me overcome so many of my inhibitions. Beginning with that first night of taking pictures I no longer imagine people peering in through the windows at me having sex. I play to the camera now.
As my love for Peter has grown I often imagine a life together with him, together in the same house. Even though I know it will probably never happen, I often imagine how I would like our house to be, especially our bedroom. I would decorate it as a genuine boudoir, cozy and warm to be sure, but featuring large framed photographic prints hung side-by-side over the headboard of the bed.
They would be stylized versions of our two favorite images from the night that the camera inspired me to learn how to deep throat. The photo on the left would be the one with only the head of Pete’s cock in my mouth, displaying the full power of his potential thrust. The picture on the right would be of his groin pressed tight against my lips, his cock totally buried. It would show the full power of my ability to please my man.
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