I am straddled across his body, my legs bent and gripping his hips, my hands on his chest and my head bent forward as the last wave of my orgasm ripples up from my groin. I feel the final contraction dissipate and the warm flow of my juice begin to seep from my body. Collapsing on him I take my fist from my mouth, gasp for breath and inhale the musky scent of his unwashed body. I feel the scratch of his unshaven growth rub against my cheek like a rasp as I recover from my stupor and I know he wants me to concentrate on finishing him.
“Your turn” I say, smiling and kissing him lightly on the lips. I lean down, nuzzle his neck and then snake out my tongue to lick behind his ear and make him squirm. I know what he wants, the way he likes to cum. I raise myself slowly, scraping my faded nails down his chest, twirling the soft twisted hair that sprouts from his sternum. Sitting on him, impaled, I look down at his wiry frame and trace a fingertip around his body…his pecs, his obliques, his abs…they all tense as I touch and his nipples harden just like mine when I trail my hand along his body. I tease him by tilting my head back so that my long chestnut hair falls down and rests on his balls which lie just below my ass. I feel him push up involuntarily as if he could escape the maddening touch by sticking his cock further inside my still swollen pussy.
“Come on” he pleads and grasps my hips with his hands, trying to lift me off. I resist and push back hard against him, grinding our pubic bones together. He tugs at me again and, finally, I relent and leer at him as I move my twat slowly along the length of his cock until the engorged head of his prick lies just at the entrance of my hole. Lifting myself off of him, I hear a thud as his rigid cock, made slippery by my cum, slaps down onto his stomach and quivers expectantly. I stare at it, fascinated by its incessant trembling as it waits to be engulfed and taken once again to a warm and wet hiding place.
Turning and swinging my leg so that my head rests above his thighs, I scooch back and lower my head to his scrotum and my breasts to his belly. As I burrow my face to his sac I arch my back and lift my gaping hole to the sky so that he can see the glistening wound he has made with his cock. I rest my head on his thigh as I take one of his aching, straining, custard filled eggs into my mouth. I feel him lift his body off the mattress and then drop in response to the quick shot of pain that the suckling creates. I feel the squidgy tubes that run from the ball to the base of his shaft and think about the creamy fluid that will soon course through them before being shot out from the purple head that now sits atop my firmly closed fist.
As I pump him slowly, I lick the fine crease between the two plums that are disappearing into his body as the wrinkled skin that holds them draws taught from my ministrations. His cock, angry and engorged, has dried in the warm air and a faint white crust mutes the tone of the thin skin that is stretched tight about the veiny muscle that holds me forever enthralled. I gather the saliva in my mouth and run my lips along the underside of his spear leaking out my dribble as I move, catching it with my fingers and massaging it around his girth. Deliberately, I glide my wet fist over the head, squeezing it gently to encourage the drop of his own emission that has peeked out of the little slit centered in the helmet of his penis.
I look back to see him with his head turned to the ceiling, eyes closed, mouth half open as I slide my hand along his cock, slowing as I reach the top and twisting my fist just beneath the ridge that divides the head from the shaft. I am thirsty now and I lift my head and reach out my tongue, gliding the tip of it around his hole and, impossibly, feeling his cock swell even more. I try to place the very end of my wet pink mouth muscle into his hole and am rewarded when I withdraw it and see a thin line of dew as delicate and fine as spider’s silk. I open my mouth wide and exhale gently onto the gleaming head which shines in the morning light that is coming into the room. To my joy, I am rewarded as he begins to weep clear liquid from his little hole in response to my steady strokes.
As I wrap my mouth around that wondrous knob I hear him gasp and mumble incoherently. I feel him strain and push as he tries to get more of his cock deeper into my throat. I grip him firm and ease my head back, letting my spit flow down his stiff dick and run down my fingers where most of it is captured while the rest drips and is caught by his pubic hair. I place the head of his cock against the inside of my cheek and rub it back and forth as I bob my head.
With him stuffed in my gullet, a persistent craving springs to mind and a familiar heat begins to grow between my legs. I begin to throb as the emptiness in my womb and the tingle of my clitoris cloud my brain and I imagine myself crammed full at both ends with pulsing swords of man meat. I reach for his hand and place it on my ass. He understands and runs a finger between my cheeks, collecting the sweat to moisten his fingertips. He strokes my labia and dips a finger into me. I push back hard. He takes his finger out and slides it over my clit and I am stunned by how quickly I have begun to drip again. He rubs the sopping hair that covers my pussy and gently strokes my lips with my own slippery cum. He tries to sate my hunger and pushes two, then three and then all four of his fingers inside me but I am unfulfilled. I need a thick, hard cock in my cunt. Something I can ride, something I can slide along and grip. Something I can draw deep inside, impale myself on, gorge myself with, ram against until my hysteria is abated. I can’t get the thought out of my head…I want a cock in my mouth and my pussy, together, at the same time.
Anguished because I know that he neither can do it himself nor wishes to help me slake my need, I determine to satisfy him the way he wants. I speed up the strokes on his cock and lengthen them so that my grip runs from the base of his dick to the tip of the head. I once again engulf the garnet colored helmet with my lips, greasing it with spit so that it slides with slight friction as I work my head just down to the ridge before pulling back up. I let go of his shaft and using just my mouth to work his cock I take my hands and place them on the inside of his muscled thighs and spread his legs. He follows my guidance because he knows what is coming and he is past the point of wanting to wait.
I reach down and, while cupping his sac, rub a fingertip around his anus. I pull on his balls, stretching them down, milking them to encourage his ejaculation. I can feel him tense and marvel at how such a small action can always bring him to the end. I slow the tugging, open my mouth wide and lick the top of his cock. It swells and dances, a marionette guided by the flicking of my tongue. I hear his breath deepen and quicken. He moves a hand to himself wanting to end the torment. I grab it at the wrist and gently bite his prick, warning him to stay away. Whimpering, he drops his hand to his side, grips the sheets and waits.
I move swiftly, grabbing his swollen cock and placing half of it in my mouth. With force and deliberation, I slide my mouth along its length. I tickle his balls once more. I feel him lift his torso from the bed as his entire body tenses and I hear his agonized groan as his cock pulses and the first jet of slimy cum flies against the walls of my cheeks. I lay still while he pumps his hips and shoots more of the hot juice into my mouth. I don’t move as he quivers when he squeezes his prick and extracts the last drop of his essence. I wait motionless until he softens and shrinks and slips quietly from my mouth.
I touch myself and remember my own ache. I need to ask him again.
Swallowing his load that is redolent of bleach and egg whites, I turn and slowly crawl back up the length of his body leaving a trail of wet kisses in my wake. My tongue darts at a nipple and I laugh when he twists away from the sensation, signaling that his nerves remain overloaded, frazzled by the electric charge that has just ripped through him. I lay where I started, with my pouty lips against his ear and rise up to give him a salty kiss.
“Feel better?” I purr. “Did you like that?”
“Yes” he replies, tucking his chin to his chest as he tries to block me from kissing his neck again. He is so ticklish and sensitive. “Stop it” he cries and with a sudden twist he rolls over and pins my arms to the bed.
“You are such a girl” I laugh at him as I try to raise my mouth to his. “C’mon, kiss me.”
Bestowing a disappointing peck, he lets me go, swings his legs over the side of the bed and looks at the clock. He stares and watches until the red numbers change. It is 8:15 on Saturday morning and he turns to look at me. Running a hand through my hair he makes a face.
“I have to be at the airport in less than two hours” he says.
“Hope you’re all packed Jack” I respond. “I don’t envy you at all. How long will this flight be?”
“It’s Tokyo. Fourteen fucking hours each way for a twenty-four hour visit” he replies bleakly as he stands up and walks to the bathroom.
I watch him stride away and stare at his body, watching his him glide, muscles tensing with each step. His deeply dimpled ass does not jiggle at all. He is a hard-bodied man. I lay on my back and let my fingers drift down to where my legs meet and feel the warm humidity that continues to escape from my body. I draw a finger up my slit and notice that I am drying out. I press my finger on my softened clit, trying to find where it has crept to and feel it back in its hood, resting and recovering below the soft curls that I twist as I see him close the bathroom door behind him.
Knowing I will be alone now for a several minutes, I close my eyes and bring my other hand to my mouth, lick my fingers and reach down for a nipple. I tease one of my dark brown buds, and feel the little bumps of my aureole rise like flowers to the sun as I barely touch them with the liquid on my fingertips. A quiver of warmth runs down from my chest to my pubis as I feel the blood rush back to where it is needed. My little shaft wakens and begins to grow as I to graze my nipple with my fingernail. I open my legs and reach to fondle the inside of my thighs, stroking myself from just above my knee to just where my labia announces the entrance to my lust. With a feather’s touch, I run a finger along the outside of my lips. First one side and then the other, I am teasing myself and not giving it to the desire to either dip my fingers into my well or to rub my little root that is straining for attention. I look down and see it, a pink staff protruding from the short dark forest that drapes my mound.
I close my eyes and think of them again; the two men who often come to satisfy me. They were there when he was touching me moments ago. They are there when I touch myself. They are there when I suck his cock or when I fuck him. They are there beside me when he licks me. I think of them when I go to sleep and sometimes when I wake. I am obsessed with them yet I don’t know what they look like. I never see their faces, only their bodies or their cocks, or their asses. And they do anything I want them to. If I am alone, they are in my mouth and my pussy when I stroke myself. If I am with him, they can be watching or one can be in my mouth while he fucks me. They fill my holes, they never complain, they aren’t selfish. They are there just for me.
I am wet again and I bring the soles of my feet up to my crotch as I try to spread my sodden hole wider. I run two fingers down the sides of my pussy, transferring my slickness from inside my vagina to the puffy lips that surround my hole. The wisps of hair that dot the lips are matted with my moisture and I can feel it drip down to my asshole. I take an oiled digit and slide it from my puckered anus back to the bottom of my open cavern. Down, up, in, out, repeat. My hand is awash in my fluid and my pussy feels soft and squishy. It is begging to be filled. I jam two fingers inside myself and twirl a thumb around my slippery clit. I open my mouth and in my mind I strain to get one of their
cocks deep down my throat while the other takes a nipple into his mouth. I push my hand deeper and grind the heel of it into my pubic bone, crushing my clit in an attempt to elicit further pleasure.
I have my rhythm. One hand trails a finger up and down my perineum. One hand is thrust against me, anchored by two fingers hooked inside my valley. My hips work to meet the pressure of my hand as I rock my wrist back and forth. My head is back and my mouth is open and I feel myself gasp for air, my breasts heave and my nipples ache to be pinched but I can’t stop myself from urging forward the tightening sensation I sense in my womb. I rub furiously; sprinting to a sloppy finish and feel my walls begin to clamp down on the digits that are plumbing my depths. I imagine a prick, long and thick, stabbing me, thrusting so far up my cunt that I feel it in my throat almost touching the head of the other cock that has been rammed in my mouth and that is sliding in and out of my maw. I see myself spitted on the enormous rotisserie prongs of my two faceless lovers. And I cum in an enormous spasm of delight that makes my body shake as I drench the sheets beneath me in a rank pool of moisture that feels like it had been drawn from every orifice.
Exhausted, sated, spent, used up, the terms fill my mind as I lay with my eyes clamped shut and, as I rejoin the living, sense the images of my ‘lovers’ fade into the recesses of my head where they will remain until I need them again.
“Wow” I hear from across the room. I open my eyes to see him standing naked with his towel flung over his shoulder and his cock held loosely in his fist.
I have often masturbated for him and am not embarrassed by his utterance or the fact that he must have stood watching me for several minutes as I worked myself into a frenzy of self-induced passion.
“Too bad for you” I tease. “You have to leave soon. And you just took a shower. Put that thing away and get ready.” I know there is no way he could recycle that fast anyway. It is mere wishful thinking on his part.
Acknowledging the truth and wisdom of my statement he starts to get dressed pulling a pair of dark blue briefs up past his thighs to his waist. He wriggles his hips and grabs his balls like a baseball player at home plate adjusting his package before a pitch to ensure comfort and unfettered movement.
“So” he says while sitting down to put on the track pants that he always wears on long flights, “What can I bring you back from Tokyo?”
Sensing that this will be the best opportunity I have to up bring the controversial topic I try to add a touch of humor to my voice and say, “How about a nice Japanese dong to play with us?”
His eyes flash darkly and I realize it was a mistake.
“Just kidding” I say holding my hands up in surrender.
“Why can’t you just drop it?” he demands. “How many times do I have to say that I have no interest?”
“I know, I’m sorry” I sigh. “You know, it’s a big fantasy of mine. I just keep thinking about it.”
“They are called fantasies for a reason” he says softly.
And, with that, he pulls on his sweatshirt, picks up his bag and goes for the door.
“I think I’m going to leave a little early” he says. “Make sure I get there on time and maybe get a little something to eat.”
I know he is leaving to avoid further conversation but I don’t stop him.
“Sure” I nod. “Sounds like a good idea.”
We hug at the door and give each other a deep kiss.
“Have a safe flight” I say.
“Thanks babe” he replies. “I’ll call you later.”
He walks out the door and I shut it quietly behind him, turn the locks and then go back and collapse on the bed and think about the weekend ahead.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/straight-sex/hungerparts-1-and-2.aspx">Hunger-Parts 1 and 2.</a>