The story I’m going to tell you starts when I saw pictures of myself sucking my boyfriend’s dick for the first time. When have you seen yourself performing oral sex for the first time? I don’t mean the first time you did it, I mean exactly when was the first time you’ve seen yourself doing it. Thinking about it now, it’s weird that I turned 29, finished a Ph.D., started a post-doc and this hadn’t happened before. But this is beside the point – let me tell you the whole story.
I hadn’t noticed he grabbed his mobile and took those pics while I was down there with my head between his legs; maybe I was just staring the beauty of his swollen glans, red and incandescent for the pleasure like a piece of iron on fire; maybe I was too absorbed in driving my tongue on his skin, savoring that lovely sensation of smoothness, a shiny mature cherry in my mouth.
He didn’t even tell me he did it, and when after some time my throat started burning a bit while my pussy was completely soaked, I just pulled that hard bat out of my jaws and sat directly upon it. No need to say anything to him, Maurice knows how I love to start from there before rolling into any other position and trying anything that inspires us. I’m always down for riding my man and his cock like a thoroughbred horse as if I were an Amazon from the ancient Greek myths, which are among my favorite readings. Yes, I love to think I’m Penthesilea, the queen of all Amazons, and any surviving Achilles should fear me: I came back from the afterlife to avenge any past and future form of machismo.
That position is my only must – at least when I’m not standing against a wall in a dirty toilet of a club, facing loads of stickers from DJs whose names might sound familiar if I were still able to read them at that point. Apart from that, as I said, Maurice accepts this mania quite submissively, and he always lets me start as I want; not that he doesn’t like it, and his groans always say clearly the opposite, as the wet lips of my pussy devour his member and clench it avidly in the deepness of myself as a carnivorous plant would do to a prey.
But I digress – let’s get to the point: the pictures. Because I would have never said a couple of images could trigger such a violent explosion of different feelings in my soul. After my ritual ride on him, we exchanged parts and he fucked me from behind until my brain got completely disconnected and his cum inside my pussy overwhelmed me like a warm wave in the middle of the ocean, thrusting me all over the seven seas.
And after that I was exactly like a shipwreck survivor, lying on my belly not able nor willing to move, still savoring that intense pleasure all over my body, together with the cuddles Maurice was deliciously giving me, sliding his fingernails along my back. When he stopped for a second to caress that same skin that he had scraped quite roughly a few minutes before, the little void I felt on my back pulled me slightly a bit back toward reality.
A moment later his mobile phone was there under my gaze, a bit too bright for my eyes which stayed close for long and would have loved not to leave that darkness so soon. But what they were about to see was pure joy for them, it was just a matter of seconds to realize it. A face on the screen was wrapping a dick with its lips, its cheeks flushing red as a cayenne pepper. Before I could even realize who actually was that girl, he said in a soft, velvety voice, “look how sexy you are, my love.”
Goddamn. It was true. That girl on the screen was fucking sexy. And that fucking sexy girl on the screen was me, just me and nobody else. That gorgeous slut giving away a blow job with such passionate commitment was undoubtedly me, and undoubtedly seductive as nothing else in the world. Well, too much, I know, but that’s how I felt. I was all like; oh my god, look at me. I’m a truly damned sinful whore. Could I ever look more beautiful than this? Look at my lips and how excellently they can hug a penis, wind it tight, and make it disappear through my mouth into an ecstatic parallel dimension, the garden of Eden for any glans of this world.
I couldn’t help but watch that screen showing my scarlet face warmly lighted by the candles in Maurice’s bedroom, with my mouth swollen for taking his hardness into it. Even that strongly concentrated expression I had was so attractive, proving how my mind was all involved in performing a piece of art rather than simple oral sex.
As I said before, Maurice mana…