PT1
It is funny how someone you meet recently becomes your whole world, your everything. Gives meaning to life with simple things that mean so much. And it rarely happens.
It all started with a request. Someone liking my pictures on social media. But in time, he became the love of my life. Oh but it seldom happens, inadvertently and when I wasn’t looking. He came out of the darkness of the night and walked into my life, like a dream personified.
Never mind how apprehensive I was, how much I disbelieved his identity, he stayed. He proved himself to me. And much to my self discontent, he won me over. And he won over my heart as well. Inevitably I agree to meet. He claims he likes me how I look and just as I am, but decades of being a chubby goth mean I will always be on the fence about how I look.
The plane ride was uneventful but nerve-wracking. What if he sees me and turns around? What if he changes his mind, turns around, and doesn’t even come up to say, “hello”? So many things that could go wrong, and they are even more apparent as we approach our destination.
Details of the travel itself are dull, and once you have experienced them once, they become so trivial, that there is no use in reliving how often the perv next to me is wondering if my boobs are real or what.
I find my luggage and walk out of the terminal. I am praying he looks like his picture. Not that looks are at all important, but knowing he didn’t lie to me is something I’d expect from someone who is every bit of my list of things I look for in a man. I am more nervous about his face when he sees me for the first time. Yes, I am wearing what I told him I would, a lolita black dress, a black wide-brim hat, and platform black ankle boots. But that is not what I mean. Like what will his reaction be when he sees me? Will he still love me after seeing me? Will he be attracted to me at all?
My mind was wildly preoccupied with the minutia of this our first encounter because I hardly registered, the towering man in the terminal, who happened to look like him. And he was brighter than the sun! No wait, that’s his smile. Bright, warm, inviting. I forgot if I was walking to him or if we walk towards each other because the only thing I remember next is how his hands felt around my waistline as he pulled me close to him, called my name, and kissed me. I do have to stop because, I have never been kissed before, not like this. This kiss made all previous kisses in my life fall into the category of crap, non-existent, and futile; rendering them an echo of what a kiss should be. No, his kiss is the real thing. A kiss that not only every fiber of my body felt, but it also was the kiss that made me so wet between my legs making me regret immediately my choice of lack of undergarments. That kiss gave me a turbulent orgasm that sadly had to be kept quiet. My heart stopped. Time stood still. The only thing that mattered was his lips on mine, his warm hands pulling my body closer to his, and those arms of his embracing my body. Everything else got quiet or halted to a stop.
If we would have been alone, this would have gone all in a different direction, that much I knew.
Yes I know we spoke a few words but for the life in me, I cannot remember. I was clumsy too, I couldn’t walk straight, and I couldn’t hold anything that didn’t fall from my hands. And him in his infinite patience with me, picked up anything that fell. He held my hand when we walked. He pulled me to him often to kiss me. And I couldn’t stop kissing him. In fact, my hands never left him even.
Did he say something about eating? I must be a total spaz to him because I do not remember what I answered, but it must have been a ‘yes’ because we stopped at a restaurant first. Oh but watching how he goes about to move and act is a thing of beauty. Every syllable is seductive, sultry. Every look he throws my way renders me weak, defenseless against the charms of a bonafide seducer. He would be the proverbial Alpha wolf, making me weak at my knees with just one look from his eyes. And his hands never stop touching me which is very reassuring.
He would lean closer to me when he spoke, and those eyes make me want to tell him my every secret, that I have no willpower when it comes to him. But I resist the temptation. Listening to his voice is a religious experience not suitable for mere mortals, but I’ll be dammed if I ever not listen to it. He does not know how strong his hold on me is and I am losing myself to that power.
Suddenly his hands reach underneath the skirt of my dress and he starts to be his mischievous self: he found out how wet his kisses have been making me and he looks surprised for a second, then the next he flashes a smirk to himself, so happy that he was responsible for the wet patch at the crotch of my pantyhose. He truly was pleased with himself the way a devil would be for making you fall into sin; the way a wolf has a gleam in his eye because his prey is doing everything he wanted, and he was taking his time to attack, that is how he was looking at me. In those dark eyes could see nothing but my fall and I was willingly walking toward it.
The ride home was a bit quieter, I answered every question he had for me, but somehow I got a nagging feeling that he wasn’t happy about me not wearing panties in public, although I wasn’t sure. But he was suddenly cold and distant and my fears came back. What have I done to upset him with me? But most importantly how do I fix this? I didn’t want him to be discontent with me, on the contrary.
We arrive at his place and he opens the door for me, like the gentleman he is. He has no idea how this accrues brownie points with me, but I have other things to worry about now. The moment we get to his room and parks my suitcase by a corner, I throw myself in his arms, and he looks deep into my eyes. Calm but still quiet. I broke down because I’m really scared this is the last we’ll have and blurt out a blunt, “Have I done something wrong, my love?” He smiles and pushes me against the wall, spreads my legs, and starts to devour my wetness through my pantyhose. I gasp for air and moan his name like something was devouring my soul. His skillful mouth eats me fiercely, knowingly making me explode once more, this time he rips off the crotch part, exposing my waxed pussy.
I fumble while I try to take his buttoned shirt off, but he answers by pulling one of my legs over his shoulder while still eating me with depraved hunger, his masterful tongue giving my erect clit lashes, and uncontrollably I jerk, pushing my aching pussy against his face, his mouth. I lost count by now of how many times he has made me cum in one way or another, but he doesn’t stop. I manage to remove the rest of my dress, and then he stops and rises to his feet. This man, the handsome, gorgeous man standing in front of me with his lips glistening with my own juices was ravishing me with his eyes. I took it upon myself to taste my own juices on his lips. My hungry lips met his, my tongue exploring his mouth. I was kissing him as what I think looked like an addict getting his fix. His mouth, his heavenly mouth let me do all of this exploring only to counter with his tongue also exploring mine. My chest kept rising against his, popping up when his masterful hands touched my bra-cladded breasts. I didn’t register when he undid my bra, only that his hands started to squeeze both my nipples and continued to kiss me. He licked his way down my neck and rested on my right nipple. While his fingers played, twisted, and pinched my left one, he engulfed the right nipple sucking it with building pressure, making me cum once more. By now all I wanted was this incredible man on top of me, fucking me mercilessly. But patience, because he definitely had other plans for me.
He managed to place me in bed, take off the remnants of my hose, and removed every piece of clothing on me, even my boots. Stark naked, I no longer cared about how horrible I could look, all I cared about was my man, my sweet, sexy, man, and the things he was doing to me. He planted his face between my legs and his magical tongue was giving me the most delicious feelings. A current cursed through my entire body whenever the tip of his tongue touched my engorged clit. He knew by now that my pussy was aching for attention but he was determined to make me wait for any more releases. Yes, he was making me cum with his delicious tongue or rubbing my freshly waxed pussy with his beard. But it was because that is what he wanted. He wanted to drive me beyond reason.
Things changed pace when I pulled him on top of me, and then I rolled us over, so his back was now laying against the bed, and I’d jump on top of him, kissing him as passionately as before but this time, licking and kissing his delicious neck with that musky smell that was an aphrodisiac in of itself. My clumsy hands undo his pants and as soon as I pull them off and take his briefs off the most amazing cock appeared before me. Yes, I’ve seen it in pictures, but no picture could ever make it justice. This cock must have been modeled from that of a god, no doubt. It was not just a towering eight inches, or so thick it will hurt when it penetrates her, the thing looked like it was ready to furiously fill her with tons of cum and this was a tremendous turn-on for her.
I brushed his raging hard-on with my blue silky hair, teasing him with it, and then I reached for his perfectly shaped balls, which i proceeded to take into my mouth. One first, massaging it with my tongue, softly doing the same to the other. Oh that sound he made, his ragged breath, his moans when my mouth played with him; getting me ready to take my tongue and lick my way from the base of his cock to the tip of the head, lapping at his intoxicating pre-cum. I have to force myself to not swallow him right then. No, I lick the edge of the bottom of his cock’s head, barely touching it and when he least expects me to, I press my swollen lips against that throbbing head, inch by inch taking him into my mouth.
His taste is what ambrosia should taste like. His hands reach my hair and he grabs it while I start to pick up the pace, pushing my lips until I reach the base of his delicious cock and with a bit of sucking pressure when I go up. I repeat this several times, making sure the back of my throat massages his head, giving him the sensation that he is choking me. On all accounts I should be, but no. I’m laser-focused on getting him to cum in my mouth. That is all that matters to me. The frequency of his precum is more continuous and I start sucking him almost in a state of trance: my mission is to make him cum, that he explodes in my mouth and I take every drop of him into me. I know he'd love to be eating me at the same time but no. This time he feels my ravenous mouth over his engorged manhood that just started to throb and pulsate. I feel his balls with my hand and they are hard, bigger. A sure sign that he is about to give me a full load as the price for sucking him with this unconsolable hunger. I find a rhythm to which I bob my head up and down his cock, his arching his back and he lets a moan from his escape his mouth and when it does, the first hard shot of his warm cum hits the back wall of my throat. His body jerks with every gush of steaming hot cum hits the insides of my mouth and I keep bobbing my head until he is spent and all of his juice takes me two gulps to be able to swallow it and it hits me: my own release comes like an atomic mushroom cloud and I start to shake beyond my control. Carefully, I lick him clean, kissing him softly after he’s spent.
Trembling, I crawl my way to the top of the bed to be able to cuddle with him and play with his furry chest and arms while I lay next to him. And he is so sweet, that he comes and lays on his side while he puts his arms around me, and kisses me softly but deeply. I manage to stop shaking and whisper in his ear that I love him.
He smiles tenderly as he looks into my eyes. After one more kiss, his soft, seductive voice calls my name, and says, “I love you more.” And I am in heaven.
)
Profile
Statuses
Blog
Photos
Videos
Bookmarks
Gifts
Send a Private Message to bbwauthor
| 
