365 Days Ch. 03

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Dear_Dora
Dear_Dora
105 Followers

As a result, I found myself pushing and pulling into and out of Cyndi with increasing frequency. The resulting feeling was a weird combination of intense pleasure, slight discomfort behind my scrotum, and a sort of loss of critical thinking capacity. I decided that these feelings were acceptable, and continued to plunge and withdraw as fast as I could. I soon found that Cyndi was helping by alternately lifting and dropping her hips off of the bed in concert with my plunging motions. I was glad that she was willing to be so helpful.

Even with Cyndi's help, however, our situation was becoming precarious; I felt as if at any moment, on one backstroke or another, I might come completely out of Cyndi's torrid enclosure, and furthermore, as if Cyndi herself might slide completely off of the bed and plunge to the floor, ending our delightful encounter with a bad bruise. Not only that, but these thoughts were distracting me from my primary interest at this exact moment, which was paying strict attention to what Cyndi and I were doing to each other.

So I grabbed hold of Cyndi tightly by gripping the meat of the back of her thighs with my hands and squeezing while pulling her tightly toward me then pushing both of us hard back onto the bed, thus inching our way up into a more secure position on the bed while ensuring that I didn't become dislodged from Cyndi's tropical recesses, as I felt sure that, as good as it was so far, there was still something more to come of this activity.

I was a little concerned that Cyndi might object to my insistent grabbing at her legs and forceful shoving into her. But, on the contrary, although Cyndi seemed to have foregone actually speaking for the time being, she made it quite clear through grins, grunts, and the occasional "Oh, My God, Yes" that what I was doing was okay with her. At one point, I was worried that I may have hurt her, as she stiffened, arched her back, and let out a deep, throaty moan ... almost like an inarticulate yell for assistance. I paused what I was doing briefly, but she quickly reassured me by screaming at the top of her lungs "For Christ's sake Dale, don't you dare fucking stop NOW!!!" Always eager to please, I resumed my efforts.

As a result of my efforts to keep from falling off of the bed, we ended on top of the bed, with me actually lying directly atop Cyndi. Although the feeling of her luxurious breasts cushioned under the weight of my own chest was extremely pleasant and somehow amplifying for the increasingly positive sensations I was receiving near my waist, I knew she was too small to support my weight on her slight frame, so I forced her knees apart with my own, and knelt slightly to remove most of my weight off of her shapely torso. I also propped my upper body slightly on the mattress using my upper arms, which left my lower arms positioned well to manipulate Cyndi's conveniently-located breasts.

My worries about the logistics of this campaign having been relieved, my mind was clear enough to concentrate on the business at hand. I caught Cyndi's eye, and smiled at her as I continued to pound my embarrassingly erect member into her apparently still-receptive slit. Which slit, by the way, after her back-arching spasm as I pushed up onto the bed, seemed even juicier and slimier than ever, if that was at all possible.

Cyndi's arms and hands, in this position, were completely free of other obligations, and as she smiled back at me, she grabbed my head behind my ears, and pulled my face down toward her own.

Then, Cyndi did something that momentarily distracted me both due to my reaction of surprise and due to the fact that I had to deal again with the height of the bar concerning bathroom issues and hygiene hangups. As she kissed me, Cyndi opened her mouth and licked her tongue across my lips, apparently trying to force them open.

Now, in the first place, I was acutely aware that she had not too long ago been using these very lips and tongue to lavish attention on my erect penis, a fact for which I would be eternally grateful. Still, the feel of her very warm, cushiony, tender lips and lively, sinuous tongue writhing eagerly outside the currently sealed entrance of my own mouth was an almost irresistible temptation to permit entry. Nevertheless, I admit to more than an little reservation about admitting those lips and tongue to my own mouth while so acutely aware of their so recent previous duties.

On the other hand, she seemed completely unconflicted about the fact that my own mouth had also been recently employed in similar hi-jinks on and in the most private parts, the most hot, slimy-wet parts, of her own body. In fact, if anything, her tongue seemed to be seeking out and retrieving all the moisture I had collected from her, as if she actually liked the taste of her own secretions on my mouth and chin.

Figuring I was here to learn, and as it is often best to learn from others' example, I opened my own mouth to explore the possibilities of new flavors and textures I might thus encounter on Cyndi's face, as long as it was so conveniently available.

I had no sooner opened my mouth and tentatively stuck out my tongue than Cyndi's tongue bolted in the door, so to speak, and commenced a thorough exploration of my gums, the roof of my mouth, under my tongue, and, in a physical feat I still am amazed at, the surface of my own tongue, twisting hers such that our tongues were slathered together, bud-to-bud, as it were. I felt it only polite to reciprocate, so I invited myself over and took an accompanied tour of the inside of Cyndi's head.

I have mentioned that earlier, I had found the practical aspects of maintaining our balance and stroke depth quite distracting from my enjoyment of our encounter. So you might think that this tongue-battling, lip-massaging, face-licking behavior which had now commenced was also a bit of a distraction for me. But, on the contrary, it seems that there is, at least in me, some kind of undocumented direct connection between the nerves in my mouth, lips, and tongue, and those in my penis and scrotum, for after Cyndi and I had established a protocol of tongue gymnastics within one another's mouths, I discovered an increasingly urgent need to accelerate the hydraulic pumping which had been continuing unabated throughout all of these other diversions.

Actually, the need was not so much to accelerate the pace as to emphasize each plunge. Cyndi was totally in synch with me on this once I started to poke around in her mouth. It was at this point that I quit "plunging my erect member into Cyndi's wet and willing slash" and manically started "pounding my cock into her cunt."

In response, Cyndi again lifted her hips up off of the bed, arched her back, and met my every slam forward with a similar slam upwards of her hips, which carried along with them, of course, her juicy cunt. Now that we had embarked on mouth-to-mouth negotiations, however, we were not ready to relinquish them, so we simply did it all at once.

A new feeling began to assert itself into my consciousness. It was slightly similar to, but a much more insistent version of the sensations I usually got behind my scrotum when, while doing my internet research by myself, I would realize I was about to need two Kleenex. Similar in the way squirting a squirt gun is similar to using a fire hose. Not real similar.

"Cyndi," I whispered, finding myself a bit short of breath and with a mouthful of Cyndi's tongue. "Cyndi, something's about to happen!"

"Oh, yeah, baby!" Cyndi growled back at me. "Something's about to happen to me, too! Let's do it together!"

And at that, I felt Cyndi's hot, damp, caressing tunnel around my penis turn into a hot, damp, boa constrictor around my penis, which, surprisingly, is a very positive experience.

Cyndi turned rigid again. My hands clamped down onto her breasts really hard as that feeling behind my scrotum jolted up to front and center. Cyndi bit my tongue, and, oddly, it felt good. Cyndi screamed out an unintelligible phrase which I think contained the word "fuck," and I suddenly felt a torrent of molten metal surging through my penis into the deepest parts of Cyndi's slit, where the end of my penis happened to be at that exact moment, held in place there by the fact that I seemed to be momentarily paralyzed.

I heard a noise like a very large black bear might make at the moment it gets it's paw caught in a cruel snap trap -- a deep, throaty, dangerous and prolonged growl! I was distracted by my own internal feelings, so it took me a second to realize that it was I who was making this noise, behind which I heard poor little Cyndi, still rigid below me there on the bed, screaming out in her much smaller voice, "Oh, my fucking God, yes!"

Cyndi went limp below me, and I myself went limp right on top of her. I was surprised to realize that my still half-hard penis (thank you, little blue pills) was still lodged in her, but slowly, sensuously, worming it's way out of her sloppy, slimy, hot and flaccid lipped opening as we fell apart on the bed, her to the left, me to the right.

I work out about four times a week. Not counting the drive to the gym, time for changing clothes and taking a shower, and driving back, I actually exercise for about an hour each time. And I work out really, really hard.

But I gotta tell you, I was sweatier, limper, and more exhausted at that moment lying beside my new friend Cyndi than I have ever been after a trip to the gym. If Freddy Kreuger had come in the room intent on cutting up the two of us into strip steaks, I would have had to just lay there and watch him do it, because I simply couldn't move.

"You okay?" I asked Cyndi.

"Fuh!" she replied.

"Was that okay? Did I do okay for my first time? Was it good for you?" I asked.

"Dale," Cyndi said. "It'd be a lot better if you'd just shut up right now, but I'll tell you this. I'm really gonna hate leaving tomorrow."

I said no more, but I took that as a yes.

... continued in "Cyndi, Day One -- Afternoon" ...

Dear_Dora
Dear_Dora
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365 Days Ch. 02 Previous Part
365 Days Series Info

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