Posted by: littlegirlyone | January 9, 2010

Killing the Flame, part 4

“Does this always happen?” I asked, lifting my mouth off of his cock only long enough to get the words out.

“Uh, always? Naw. It’s happened before, though. What you’re doing down there with your mouth is definitely the magic factor” he said.

I smiled.

“Nice to know I could get an hourlong blowjob, come, and still be able to fuck you,” he noted playfully.

I blushed and felt that low twist of desire. I stayed there, on my knees for a while longer, relishing the awesome pleasure that is hard cock, and the knowledge that I was part of the magic. But eventually, I think, he got bored. Because sort of stopped me, got up, and left the room. I heard water running, and figured he’d gone to use the restroom. When he came back, I did the same.

The spell was officially broken.

Lots of boring, non-sexy stuff happened at this point. I drank a huge glass of water. We ate. I drank another huge glass of water (where do you think all that spit comes from?), we talked. After another 20 ounces of water, we came back to his room. It was dark. There was some pretense about us watching a movie, but that didn’t last. Soon enough he had my left leg pinned open across his body. I was naked from the waist down.

His fingers quickly began moving across my clit. It was much harder, much faster and more intense than I ever touch myself. But there were things about it that compelled me: the way he had my legs trapped, opening my cunt under his hand; the way he was touching me however he wanted, not asking me if that’s what I liked; the way his hard, fast handstrokes felt almost like vibration. It was a very boyish stimulation. No one’s ever gotten me off with their hands on my clit before. I don’t think anyone’s ever tried, honestly. I wasn’t sure it would work, since I’m sort of picky about even getting myself off this way.

When I want to come and I’m with someone else, I usually have to think about something. I can’t  orgasm from just sensation. I have to concentrate on a fantasy or a thought, at least for a few minutes leading up to orgasm. Once I start coming, I’m snapped back into the present moment. I feel everything. Every ripple, every writhing muscle spasm. I don’t have to think about anything, I can just feel, experience, come. I also have a tendency to start blabbering when I’m orgasming. It can be as simple as a whispered oh God, or an elaborate stream of fucking-oh-my-fucking-yes-please-God-yes-yes-yes.

But I digress.

So, I have to think about something. Not necessarily a fantasy, although I have my go-tos. In this case, I just thought about what was happening. He had me how he wanted me, and he wanted me to come. When I can tell that my partner wants my orgasm, that’s almost enough. The last piece is that I tell myself that it’s my job to come, and I had better not disappoint. (There’s an implication inherent in it being “my job” that also gets me off.) Works like a charm.

So I started thinking about it. Alan wants you to come, you little fucking whore. Yes, in my head, I often talk to myself in the third person. Kill me. It only took a couple of minutes. I can’t remember what I started saying once the orgasm synapses started firing, but I do remember the sensation of him talking in my ear, his breath so close, so intimate. I wish I could remember what he said. But all I can remember is my own little contractions, and my wonderment at the fact that yes, I was actually coming (and pretty hard, too) at the mercy of his fast, rough, manual stimulation.

And that was a first.


Responses

  1. What a great scene. Thanks for sharing. You certainly have a good knack for explaining how and why you get turned on.FD

  2. thank you, florida. it's a fun analytical exercise for me, and in the process, i learn how to get myself off 🙂 glad you enjoy it.


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