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Just Like A Peach

"Student parties can be very loud and finding a bed that isn't occupied can be almost impossible."

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I met Ralph Clarke at my flatmate Jane’s birthday party between Christmas and New Year.

Like most student house parties, the music that night was perilously close to deafening, and conversation was generally carried on by lip-reading and sign language.

Jane, a tall willowy blonde with generous curves and an infectiously happy demeanour, was, as usual well on her way to being completely legless. I was feeling a little jaded after yet another double shift at the wine bar and I could have happily slunk off to bed. But there was no way I could have slept with walls and floor vibrating with every beat.

“I got someone you should meet,” Jane screamed at me, taking my hand and dragging me through the press of bodies.

Of course, I knew what was happening. She’d been trying to match me up with one of her sad, single male friends, ever since I’d drunkenly let it slip that I hadn’t had sex for nearly nine months.

“Thi.. i….alph,” she mouthed at me, stopping in front of a tall bloke with wavy black hair and liquid brown eyes. “…. e … he ... I ... d ... yo… ut.”

I nodded as my brain struggled to fill in the missing spaces in the sentence. He held out his hand and I took it. His paw was large and dry and warm and the look in his eyes said that he’d rather have been somewhere else. He was good looking in an outdoors, rugged sort of way, with a neatly-groomed designer stubble decorating his solid jaw-line. There was something rather too full about his lips, which hinted at a slight mixing of the blood that ran through his veins.

He made the universal tipping-hand ‘Do you want a drink?' sign. I looked at my empty glass and nodded. He made the follow me sign, and I nodded again.

The kitchen was only slightly quieter, well at least we could hear each other shout.

“I’m sorry,” he bellowed.
“What for?” I hollered back.

“For being foisted on you by our mutual friend.”

“Is that what she did? I thought I was being foisted on you.”

His eyes lit up as he smiled. “Okay, let's pretend that we met by accident at a party and you are standing here with me because you find me vaguely interesting.”

“What? Only vaguely?”

“We’ve only just met. We’ll start at vague and see where we go.”

“So, you are only vaguely interested in me too?” I shouted, looking theatrically hurt.

His eyes washed over me in a semi-comical sexually measuring way. “I could lie and tell you that I find you fascinating, and that I want you to have my children,” he said, as the music suddenly dipped a few decibels, “but you’d see through that in a moment, and frankly that’d be kinda creepy.”

“Oh, that’s very sweet,” I returned picking up a bottle of vodka. “I accept.”

“You accept what?”

“Your proposal.”

He laughed. “Now we’ve moved out of vague towards mildly interesting,” he said, picking up two glasses and loading them with ice from the bucket.

I could still hear the music, but it was being drowned out by the sound of my own ecstasy-filled screams, as his tongue played over my pussy lips, while his thumb slid back and forth over my erect clitoris. He’d been at it for absolute ages, drawing one agonising orgasm after another from me, and licking up the hot juices that flowed out of me, like it was nectar.

Somehow, within an hour, we’d zoomed past interesting toward fascinating, and then veered across to ‘I’ve got to fuck you right now, or I’m going to die.’

The kissing had started after the third vodka and orange, when we’d taken to the dance floor, our bodies swaying sensuously. After that we’d found a space under the stairs, and he’d slipped his hand up my skirt and into my panties, and I gently massaged the expanding bulge in his trousers. Then he’d whispered in my ear, “Let’s go somewhere else, so I can eat you.”

“Are you a carnivore, then?” I’d asked.

“Yes,” he’d replied, taking my hand and threading our way through the crowd.

We made it to my room, but the bed was covered in coats and a naked, hairy bottom was rising and falling between a pair of plump white knees, accompanied by a squeal every time the guy drove down into the half hidden girl, who I vaguely recall introducing herself to me as Anna.

We stood and watched the action for a few minutes, getting hornier and hornier with every thrust, and hoping that he wasn’t going to hold out much longer. But he kept banging into her like a demented jack-hammer on speed.

It was the same story in the next two bedrooms. But, in the last one, Helen, one of the other girls who shared the house, was just sliding her pants back over her wet crotch and the man, who wasn’t her present boyfriend was doing up his belt, a triumphant smile on his freckled face..

“Hi Tracy,” Helen giggled guiltily. “It’s all yours. Have fun. There are rubbers in the drawer if you want them.” She pushed her lover out of the room ahead of her and slid past me, winking at Ralph.

Ralph shut the door and turned the key in the lock. “We don’t want any interruptions or voyeurs,” he said.

He kissed me again while he quickly unzipped my dress and unclipped by bra. I was down to my pants before I knew it.

“Lie down,” he whispered in my ear.

I eased back onto the bed while he peeled off his own shirt, trousers and pale blue boxers.

Bending forward he put pressure on my knees to move them apart.

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Then, he got down on his knees, his face descending into my groin.

“Mmm,” he murmured, “my favourite kind, nice and hairy.” His tongue extended, running the length of my vagina, flicking at my bud and... O my God!

I’d already cum three times when he slid the index finger of his right hand into me. I cried out and half sat up as the tip stroked upward and brushed against my G-spot. I started to shake, as he carried on stroking inside me; my head rocking from side to side, my hands pressing the top of his head as his tongue slid up and down.

I wanted to feel his cock inside me, but I knew that I’d die if he stopped licking and stroking.

... licking and stroking...

... licking and stroking...

... licking and stroking…

I raised my legs over his shoulders and rested my heels on the small of his back, as a fresh orgasm rushed up like a wave and slammed me into the rocks. I slumped back, breathless, exhausted and happy.

I was vaguely aware of hands rolling me over and pulling me up into a semi-standing position, my head resting on the bed. I felt him wipe the big head of his penis up and down my soaking slit a few times and then, with one single thrust, he was into my tight, still spasming vagina, filling me full to the top.

He stroked in and out, holding on to my hips as he went to work.

I was making whimpering sounds again, clutching onto the bedclothes, feeling the smack of his groin hitting my bottom over and over; again and again with increasing ferocity.

My knees weakened, and I would have collapsed onto the floor, but he kept me standing with the grip of his big hands on my hips.

Merciless as a pile driver, he ploughed into me. Slap, slap, slap!

“You feel so fucking great,” he said, his voice strained as he fought to keep himself from spurting.

Slap, slap, slap! I pushed back now as he thrust forward, increasing the sound that our sweating bodies were making, as our flesh collided.

“Mmm,” I sighed, “it’s so wonderful... so... so won... ahhh... ”

He thrust faster, revolving his hips slightly.

“Please come now,” I said, “please cum... I want you to cum.”

Faster and faster. Slap, slap, slap!

Suddenly he pulled out and I felt the hot sticky wetness spurt over my buttocks and onto my back. He stood there for a moment, his fist clamped tightly around his cock as the white goo oozed onto me.

Standing, I slowly turned around and squatted. His cock was still semi-hard as I slid it between my lips and sucked it into my mouth, savouring the twin tastes of my lubricating juices, and his creamy sperm.

His cock responded, stiffening and rising to the challenge as I carried on sucking and licking the shaft all the way down to his pendulous balls. I looked up into his smiling eyes and he nodded approval.

After a few minutes I slid onto the bed and lay down with my legs spread wide. “Come on then, tiger,” I said, beckoning wantonly.

He looking at me and smiled. “Me thinks you be insatiable, mademoiselle.” 

I shook my head. “Not insatiable, but I admit that I’m stating to find you irresistible.”

“Only starting?” he responded, walking over to the bedside table drawer and pulling out a box of condoms. “We are way past starting, don’t you think?”

“Don’t rush me,” I laughed, watching him rip open the packet and rolling the thin latex tube onto his erection.

He climbed onto the bed and slowly slid his cock into my wet hole. I clamped my arms around his neck and wound my legs around his body, because the look in his eyes warned me that I was in for a rough ride.

Three months later I was on my back, on our bed, my legs wide: my man where he loved to be, his face buried in my groin, his tongue licking and lathing, while his expert fingers stroked my clit and my G-spot. I lost count of just how often and in how many places in the weeks after the party, I’d had to slip off my knickers, so he could dine on my pussy.

He couldn’t, it seemed, get enough of what he described as, succulent as a peach dipped in honey.

I jerked and cried out as my first orgasm of the night rose up and sent my body into convulsions. I wanted to feel him inside me so much, but he wasn’t a man to be rushed when he was eating.

Another soul churning orgasm racked my body. Then he was sliding up me preparing to thrust the big head of his cock into me, sending me up the scale again.

But, this time, he entered me slowly; his mouth descended on mine in a long, deep kiss. Suddenly I felt something else in my mouth, something metallic and hard. I pushed it out with my tongue, taking it between my fingers.

The diamond twinkled in the light from the bedside lamp.

“Put it on,” he said, thrusting into me and leaving his head buried deep.

“Are you asking me to marry you?” I said.

“No. I give one of those to all the women I fuck,” he said, withdrawing a little and sliding back up, making me whimper with pleasure.

“And do they always say yes?”

“Of course. It’s hard not to when I’ve got them plugged good and tight.”

“In that case, the answer is yes.”

I slid the ring on my finger. He kissed me deeply again, then started to ride me with a happy, possessive savagery.

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Written by tallah
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