"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.

Different to last time, I sucked him like a lollipop, as if I could suck out his juices. Rather than try to force the up and down movements I was struggling with, I tried sucking "against" him. I tried to visualise my tight pussy gripping him, and used the flat of my tongue to press onto him.

"Oh, that's good," he told me. I squeezed my boobs against him, wriggled into a better position, and sucked harder. I wondered if he was just being nice because I was trying so hard, and I reached for his hand. He held it tightly, and it was not only comforting, connecting us on an intimate level, but reassuring.

I sucked even harder. I tried to suck deeper, and pushed my head further down, pulling his cock in little by little, and rolling the flat of my tongue against him. I got to a point where I could taste his pre-cum squishing around my mouth, even though there was no room, and I gagged against him. It wasn't like I needed to puke, just that I couldn't get my jaw to open any wider for his large girth, and my mouth, although hungry, could barely cope with it.

I came up for air, and he said, "Wow, you were deep-throating!"

"Was I?" I was impressed with myself, and tried again. I know I will have to practice more, but it was great to know that I was on the verge of getting him deep inside me, and I went down on him again. I wanted him to feel good because of what I was doing for and with him.

The next time I came up for air, he said, "Shall we try that tit-wank?"

I grinned, and rolled on my back. He pulled me more onto the bed (imagine, falling off the bed mid-tit-wank!), and got on top of me. I had discovered last time that I needed the support of pillows behind my head to help my jaw not work so hard and ache, so I got those stacked up as well as I could.

I wondered if my friend just used his own strength to keep himself up, as I wasn't squashed at all. I made up my mind to ask him next time I'm not concentrating on the task in hand (or, in this case, mouth).

He pushed his wet, throbbing cock between my boobs, and I pushed them together with my upper arms. I loved how high up my body he was, as I had perfect access to hold his bum cheeks and feel him thrust. There was something incredibly erotic about feeling his butt muscles pumping as he took his pleasure with my willing mouth. He was in charge, and yet so kind. I was happy to let him use me.

We managed to find a position where I could both squeeze his shaft with my tits, and get his head in my mouth. He began to pump lightly as I began to suck. It wasn't long before I lost sense of what was happening, and just concentrated on sucking him hard with the flat of my tongue again, as if I could suck all his juice out.

I stopped for a second and told him I was scared of hurting him with my teeth. There was sometimes an inevitable scrape during thrusts, and I was terrified I'd graze him badly.

"You can bite it off if you want, I don't care!" he breathed.

He carried on thrusting, and I realised that he was past the point of stopping. Fears of slight injuries were not a problem, as long as he got to come. I concentrated even harder on keeping my jaws wide and using my tongue as a pressing force to close into tightness on him.

As he began to thrust harder, and grabbed hold of the headboard, I began to wriggle the tip of my tongue again against that lovely little bowstring of his. He began to make noises, not grunting, but vocal sighs, and he went through stages of pushing down against me with his hips one minute, and then holding my ribcage up tightly between his thighs.

I soon realised that he must be pumping into me alternately to feel my breasts rhythmically clenching onto him. It was difficult with the force on and against me, trying so hard to keep wriggling my tongue and keeping his throbbing head inside my wet mouth, but I tried to help by flexing my upper arms against my boobs too, trying to match his rhythm.

Suddenly, he gave some immensely deep, stacatto thrusts, uttered soft "Aahh"s, and there was flavour of salty earth and tangy air flooding my mouth once again. I pursed my lips as tightly as I could, creating an immoveable seal around his cock. I held him in as deep as I could, whilst I felt not one, not two, but three or four huge loads of spunk jet onto the back of my throat, trying to burst out of my mouth like a fountain.

I thought I was going to puke his spunk onto his stomach, but I held tight, feeling his cum pumping out of him in fire-hose force as tears ran down the sides of my face. Oh fuck! I thought. What if that's spunk coming out or my eyes, and not tears? Oh my god, what a fountain!

It never seemed to stop, with vats of the stuff, stronger-tasting than last time, with me lying beneath him, still sucking, still keeping that seal as tight as I could, and crying with the lack of air and huge amount of liquid in my little mouth.

I swallowed as hard as I could, choking and gasping what air I could through my nose, still worrying about biting my friend's cock, and trying not to splutter spunk everywhere. I didn't know so much could come out with such force.

I remembered reading that men like to be sucked until they're soft again, or it "ruins" the orgasm, so I kept sucking, ignoring the maybe-spunk-tears now tickling my neck, the difficulty breathing, and I kept pressing my tongue against his undershaft.

Eventually, he rolled off me, and I lay there, shaking and gasping for breath, coughing spunky-tasting mouthfuls into the air above us.

My reward was a lovely cuddle, a cup of tea, and an offer for him to come and visit for a night in the New Year.

I'd better not be On The Blobb then, because I want to get fucked!

This story only available on Lush Stories. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.