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After that awesome night last week things have just kept getting awesomer. Well, up until now …
I slept really well that night, and only woke up the next morning when I heard the front door closing. It was about ten o’clock.
Total Silence. Excellent.
I lay there with a big steely early (ha!) morning erection – feeling great. But even though I was tempted i didn’t do anything with it – even with the events of the previous night flooding back into focus in my sleepy head – cos i was totally starving!
Good job it was Saturday morning and i didn’t have to work.
I got up, stark bollock naked, and made my way to the kitchen. My big knob wobbled rigidly from side to side (again) with each step. It felt funny to walk in that condition. But I liked the feeling, just like I always did when I had the place to myself, being able to walk around starkers.
I wanted toast. Toast with lots of creamy melting butter and lashings of marmite.
I strode through the doorway into the kitchen to get the toast on. Out of nowhere, out of the silence, erupted an almighty screech, which screamed the air blue. I jumped about a mile in the air in surprise. I looked at where the scream had come from. Eric’s girlfriend was sitting at the kitchen table.
‘Shiiiit … I thought you’d gone out’ I said, strumming an apology.
‘Does it look like I’ve gone out?’ she said sarcastically.
To be honest, it didn’t. Not sitting there like she was. She was just as naked as I was. Her big exposed knockers jigged as she posited her hands on her hips in mock indignation.
They were huge.
Her breasts, I mean. Not her hands.
The biggest pair of breasts I’ve ever set eyes on. But something about them was different to last night. I could just tell.
And then I couldn’t help it. My eyes glanced down of their own accord as I realized what it was – a big purple hickey planted right under the left nipple. Under and over actually.
It looked sexy. Very sexy. Which only added more steel to my highly visible ’embarrassment’.
She was staring at it again – like she had done in the bathroom the night before. Only this time my hard-on wasn’t pointing directly at her, it was pointing bolt up toward the ceiling.
‘Do you always walk around with your cock out?’ she said, a bit softer this time, without so much of the sarcastic tone … and without taking her eyes off it.
‘Yeah …’ I said dreamily, not thinking what I was saying. I was still fixated on those marvelous mammaries. It was one of those moments, the both of us staring at each others’ bits, when something – an inner feeling – tells you that whatever you’re both thinking is exactly the same thing.
‘… er, no! Of course not.’ I stammered, suddenly gathering my senses before adding ‘Only when no-one else is around’
Then just as I was about to ask where Eric was, I heard the catch of his key in the lock of the front door.
‘He popped out to get some milk’ she said, knowing exactly what I had been thinking.
Well, how awkward can you feel?
But to be fair, Eric took it well. I was stammering out an explanation as he entered the kitchen. Then he burst out laughing. Good old Eric, never let anything bother him. In fact he almost wet himself, he laughed so much.
‘She told me last night you had at least a mouthful’s worth’ he said chuckling, pointing at my quickly deflating weapon.
‘Which is a couple of inches more than you’ve got’ I heard her laugh as I scurried away back to the haven of my bedroom.
The last thing I heard before I shut my door was Eric goading her ‘I bet you’d love to get your gob around that, wouldn’t you?’ and then her voice muttering something that I couldn’t make out.
A green light was blinking on the corner of my phone. I opened it up and saw a message from Marco reminding me about his older brother’s wedding that afternoon – I was going to be second best man. Marco was the best man really, but had volunteered me as a second, to be the one to tell all the funny embarrassing stories that he didn’t want to. I was happy to do it.
And that’s when another awesome night happened. Honestly. My life was turning into one awesome thing after another.
You just never know about some people. That’s what I was thinking as I propped up the bar at the reception later that night, thinking about the events of the previous twenty-four hours.
Knowing Lucy at college, I pondered, how bookish she had been, how quiet, how … utterly lovely. Ha! Since when had I ever used the word ‘utterly’? But that’s the exact word that came into my head as I thought about her, about Lucy. I mean, I could never have imagined I would’ve ever ended up in a … a what? A blow bang? With her. With posh, bookish, utterly lovely Lucy.
Now that was weird.(Awesome maybe, but definitely weird).
I tried. I really did. Tried so hard to stop thinking about her and have a laugh. Eventually I did bahis firmaları but it took a couple more lagers and a lot more cheesy jokes than the ones I’d used in my speech.
I’d even tried to join in with the real-ale enthusiasts who kept talking at me even though I didn’t have a clue what they were going on about. Weddings eh?
Yep, it was the conversation about home-brew kits that did it for me. That was when I got bored rigid and thankfully managed to slip away while Marco’s Uncle Jerry banged on about ‘fermenting yeast’ and ‘sterilized buckets’ and every single thing I didn’t know anything about.
What did I know about real ale? Absolutely nothing. I didn’t even know the difference between a hoppy aroma and a fart.
So, as Uncle Jerry got excited and chattered away to all the other ‘uncles’ I slipped over to the bar and got myself another lager.
Poor old Uncle Jerry – possibly the most boring man I’d ever met. Completely harmless though, to be fair.
I stood at the bar, thinking about Lucy, surveying the carnage around me; Uncle Jerry and the home-brew crew on my left, the middle-aged ladies doing something that used to be called dancing straight ahead of me, Marco’s grandma to my right struggling with her cake. Marco’s sister Sadie sitting with her.
What an awesome night.
Ah, Lucy. I needed to get her out of my head. So I went over and sat with Sadie and Marco’s grannie.
‘Having a good time?’ I asked both of them.
‘Lovely cake’ said grannie. I think she meant it.
Sadie looked a picture; nineteen now and grown into a true beauty.
‘Good speech Bozo’ she said. Bozo. She always called me that. Always had done ever since I’d known her.
‘Should hope so too, the money I paid for it. It was awesome’ I quipped back then thought how weird it was that Marco’s older brother had actually got married.
Twenty seven’s a good age for it. That’s what people kept saying. And why not? Claire’s a good sort. A good laugh. And they’d wanted me for second best man. After all the growing up together me and Marco and his brother had done, all the laughs we’d shared, I was happy to be it.
I still couldn’t see Steve or Claire anywhere in the hall though. I knew they’d sloped off to get changed out of their wedding gear but that had been ages ago. Maybe they were having a quickie, a first husband and wife shag, while they were at it.
And who could blame them? Anyway, whatever, they’d be back at some point and the party would soon get in full swing. Then I’d be able to forget about Lucy for a while.
The middle-aged ladies were getting down to classic wedding reception music; all the golden oldies from the seventies and eighties. Got to be done. Some-one has to get the party started.
I’m glad they took on the responsibility and not me. I’ve got two left feet. Especially when it comes to Duran Duran. At least the DJ had promised some beats for later on, when the oldies went home.
Slowly others turned up, or got back from changing out of their own suits. The room filled up, the lights got lower, the alcohol got drunk.
Party on …
Then the party really got going and I actually did forget about Lucy. Because that night turned out to be pretty bloody awesome too. And the next morning carried on getting on awesomer.
It was the smell of coffee that first woke me. That and the awareness of having another rock-solid stiff-as-a-poker stiffy; so stiff I’d been aware of it even before waking, even during the flashes of dream images flickering through my brain; A swimming pool. A kiss. Marlon Brando on a motorbike. Breasts.
My cock was so hard it permeated my fuddled early morning thoughts as I slowly roused out of the perfect sleep that only comes after awesome sex.
I stretched; long and sleepy, my body taut and magnificent. Well, I thought so anyway.
Mmmm … awesome sex.
I ran my hand down past my stomach and instinctively pulled on my thick cock. Just one pull. A long dreamy unconscious tug. It felt like the hardest and biggest erection I’d ever had.
A freckled face, laughing. A vagina. Golden hair. My cock.
I lay proudly and happily on the flat of my back with my other hand behind my head.
A satisfied man.
Satisfied with my big, hard cock. My big, hard cock that was filling my dream. So big and hard that it seemed like a heavy weight pushing down on the foot of the bed.
Heavy bouncing weight.
Foot of the bed.
My drousy eyes flickered open for a second. Foot of the bed. Whaa …? I looked down. Yep. There was a big lump under the duvet alright. And it was moving upwards over my legs.
Then a hand gripped my shaft. My big, hard, thick steely shaft.
Suddenly my dick got all wet.
Awesome. My eyes drooped shut again. I was so sleepy and relaxed and this was a good dream. A great dream. I didn’t want to lose it. My cock was being bathed in a pool of water, soft sensual water lapping over my erection.
No … kaçak iddaa sluicing. Sluicing around my bell-end. Sensual and erotic. And warm.
Very very warm.
An almost hot kind of warm; a warm that was suddenly cascading down my stonker all the way to the base. I squirmed with the sensation; an ecstatic tingling that simultaneously spread over my abdomen and soaked over my balls.
‘Aaaghh … Lucy’ I moaned, loud enough that I woke myself again.
Then the hot liquid sensation changed into a soft-but-insistent vibration that moaned around my mushroom-head, humming along the pulsing veins of my steely shaft.
‘Phwoar’ I smiled, stirring out of what was left of my dreaming to lift up the duvet.
A mop of hair hung limply over my groin.
Hair. Dark hair. Hair that slowly lifted and settled into a perfectly cut jet-black bob-cut; perfectly framing a cute exotic face. An innocent looking, twenty six year old exotic face.
A pair of dark brown almond-shaped eyes looked back up at me as my sticky swollen helmet slid from its mouth.
‘My name’s Sarah. Not Lucy’ the mouth said, before getting back to the job in hand.
Sarah. Sarah. It took a few moments to register. Oh … Sarah. Sexy Sarah from Steve and Claire’s wedding. Claire’s Maid of Honour. Half-Vietnamese Sarah.
‘Hi Sarah’ I replied sleepily ‘Sorry … was kind-of having a dream’
Lucy. I’d been dreaming about Lucy. Again. Posh Lucy. Golden-haired, blue-eyed, bookish, beautiful Lucy. Even after last night I was still thinking about her. Dreaming about her.
‘Never mind’ said sexy Sarah, lifting her head again. ‘Drink some coffee. I want you energized again like last night’.
Then Sarah got back to business, rolling her tongue expertly around my glans, and I watched her at it, enjoying the heavenly sensation despite the brown mess pooling in my pubes.
It was the same brown mess that had stained my cock and warmed my balls. The same warm mess that was now dribbling down between my arse cheeks.
Steve and Claire’s wedding. Yeah. Now it all came flooding back. Sexy Vietnamese Sarah from Wolverhampton, the Maid of Honour. Sexy Sarah who’d asked me for a dance at the reception. Sexy Sarah who’d snogged me in the back of the taxi on the way home. Sexy Sarah on top of me last night. Sexy Sarah under me last night.
I lay back, resting my head on a big pink puff pillow – the same one that I’d been sleeping on all night – and surrendered to the sensation of Sarah working her mouth, and tongue, fully up and down my cock.
Sexy Sarah wants me energized? Then energized I will be.
I glanced around the room feeling that funny sensation of waking somewhere you don’t recognize. I twisted and reached for the white mug on the bedside table standing next to a dappy Minnie Mouse alarm clock. I took a slug of the hot bitter liquid, sluiced it around my teeth and swallowed it down. Nothing like a shot of caffeine in the morning.
Then I raised the duvet again and leaned forward.
‘Hey Sarah’ I quietly interrupted her ‘Do that thing again. With the coffee. It was awesome.’
We lay in bed most of the morning, snoozing lightly and recovering from the energy we’d just spent. She’d wanted me energized and I’d got energized. Maybe not quite as much as she’d have liked though, and I made her get on top again, like last night. Sometimes I was a lazy sod.
Anyway, I liked this position and I liked the way her tits swung around when she was bouncing up and down on me. She had a good pair of tits; not small, not big. Nicely firm.
And I could rub her clit at the same time. Well, I didn’t exactly rub it. I just rested my knuckles at the point where she ground her pussy down; that sweet pussy with the short tuft of pubic hair sprouting above it.
So my laziness wasn’t a bad thing at all. Especially the way her mouth fell open when she pushed herself against my fingers.
Then we crashed out again for a while.
Thoughts of Lucy flickered through my mind in the moments we dozed even though I didn’t particularly want them to. Well, not right then at least. But they came anyway.
What was it about Lucy that intrigued me so much? Marco had said it was because I was soft in the head. Yeah, I couldn’t argue with that. I probably was. But that didn’t explain it. Not fully.
Posh Lucy. What was it about her? I really wanted to know. Maybe that was why the thoughts of her kept plaguing me – because I wanted to know. Because I didn’t know.
Was it the fact that she was the prettiest, most beautiful girl I’d ever set eyes on? Or the fact that I’d put her up on a pedestal, some kind of goddess to worship? Marco had also said it was because she was out of my league, and that was why I wanted her so much, because I couldn’t have her. Yeah, maybe.
Maybe it was the freckles.
Or was it because it had got to me – the way she’d called me honey, and held my hand, and gazed into my eyes? No-one had ever called me honey. Not like that. It was easy for Marco to kaçak bahis say I was soft in the head. I wonder how he’d have reacted if it had been him whose cum she’d swallowed. That was definitely a factor. I was sure of it.
Now we were back to being what we had been before the night before last … friends we never were. It did my head in. Especially because I’d texted her again before the wedding.
And since then? Nothing, not a peep. A whole twenty-four hours. Nearly.
I lay with my hands behind my head again, staring at the ceiling. Sarah shifted slightly as she dozed beside me. Lucy’s eyes, Lucy’s mouth, Lucy’s breasts filled my thoughts. Lucy’s wet pussy. Her bottom. I was thinking of it all; Lucy looking up at me … ‘ya, cum down my throat’. No-one had ever said that to me before. Why was that so important? And the sweet way she’d kissed me afterwards.
I felt like my soul was on fire. Burning up inside. Like I was burning in hell.
I felt randy as fuck.
Then, just as my cock swelled Sarah stirred and rolled over and cuddled me, nestling into my torso with a hand resting on my chest, raising her sleepy head, slightly, just enough to give me a light kiss on the lips.
A light kiss on the lips.
Too sweet actually.
I mean, Sarah was great. I liked her. But I wasn’t ready for sweet. Not from her. I just wanted the sexy.
So I looked at Sexy Sarah; naked, hot … and here.
‘Fuck you, Lucy’ I swore at myself like some kind of madman, a moment of anger rising like erupting lava. I pushed Sarah off me and straight onto her back, pinning her arms above her head. Her eyes shot open and she gasped loudly as I spread her long slim legs with my knees while I crawled into the vacant space between.
If I couldn’t fuck Lucy I was damn well going to fuck Sarah. Again.
Sexy Sarah. Wolverhampton Sarah. Vietnamese Sarah. Sarah the Maid of Honour.
If she hadn’t wanted it, it could well have been borderline rape for all the subtlety I lacked. But the fact was, while I nailed her she squealed and spurred me on all the more.
I rammed my cock into her pussy. Rammed. Totally rammed. She gasped again, loudly, with what sounded like a mixture of surprise and pleasure … and a hint of pain. Only a little though. Just a tad. Pleasure-pain. You know.
Her legs opened wide.
Sexy-legs Sarah. That’s what me and Marco used to call her, until it got to be too much of a mouthful. But it was true. She did have sexy legs.
I pushed in as deep as I could, forcing her vaginal walls to split like velcro as my stoney cock-head surged up her slick canal. My head arched back with the pleasure of how tight that felt.
God it was tight. And those wet walls clamped slickly around my throbbing meat as I bottomed out all the way to the hilt.
‘Fuck me … fuck me hard. Fuck my brains out!’ Sarah suddenly cried out.
Wham, bam, thank you Mam.
With pleasure. And all of it my own.
Except for the bit that was hers.
She was still as wet and willing as she had been all morning. She wanted it as bad as I did.
So I did what she told me to do. I fucked her. I fucked her the way I would have done even if she hadn’t begged me. I fucked her as hard and as fast as all the burning frustrated rage in my soul would allow, each thrust fucking the thoughts of Lucy out of my system, each thrust met with a deep grunt of joy in return.
Shifting my weight, I supported myself fully with my outstretched arms locked either side of her rib cage and watched her breasts rippling up and down in time to my thrusts. I loved the way her breasts moved like that.
She looked up at me, a glaze in her eyes. Her legs pulled up, bent at the knees.
I liked her eyes. More than I realized. But that wasn’t what this moment was about. And if I wasn’t careful the moment might soon pass. Bollocks to that. I ground my cock even further into her.
It was hardly possible but somehow I managed it, my cock-head sponging against her cervix forcing her to arch her back until she cried out once more, with a lot more feeling ‘Yeah, fuck me … fuck me harder and faster’.
Well, I did. But not before something briefly put me off my stroke. Out the corner of my eye I saw the screen of my phone light up.
Sarah’s eyes shot me a pleading look. ‘NO! Don’t stop …’ she squirmed under me ‘ WHY are you stopping?’ her eyes searching, burning wide.
She squeezed her pussy muscles, sucking on my meat until I moaned again with the sensation. Her arms snaked around mine, hands gripping my forearms by the elbows.
‘Fuck me …’ she demanded in a rasped half-whisper, those eyes gazing up at me ‘don’t stop … just … keep fucking me.’
Forgetting about the bloody phone, I eased my veiny shaft almost all the way out before pushing it slowly all the way back in.
I did it again; eased out pushed back in.
Then again; eased out pushed in. Out … in, out in. I did it again, and again, and again.
‘Uungghhh … uughhh … aaaaarrgghhh … nnnnngghhhh’ she groaned, fingers stroking up my arms until I was fully back on the pace, back doing what she wanted me to do, what I wanted to do; just how she wanted it, just how I wanted it.
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