Going Down

byLucy1970Harker©

She just didn't like it.

And of course, the crew she was out on the town with didn't get it.

There was something about being out drinking with friends after two hours that made topics normally off limits completely acceptable. Like oral sex, for example — with her on the receiving end.

Choose your term. None were really acceptable for her to think, let alone say. But the fact remained that no matter what you call it, she didn't like it.

"I don't know. Call me crazy, but it's just not my thing," she said.

By the time this had come up, there were one or two girlfriends left at the bar. And him. He was still there.

The girls protested, saying she was crazy.

"I don't know. In my experience, dudes either rush through it or just don't know what they are doing," she said.

"Well, I think you're crazy," one of her girlfriends said.

"To be honest, I'd much rather do the reverse," she said.

"Now I really think you're crazy," her other girlfriend said.

He still was listening quietly.

She looked at him.

"Come on, guys' point of view. How many guys you know put doing ....that...at the top of their list?" she asked.

"Probably as many as girls put blow jobs at the top of their list, I guess?" he said.

"That's fair," she said.

At some point, the other two girls left and it was just the two of them.

He'd been pretty quiet throughout the conversation. Suddenly she worried they'd offended him.

"Sorry if we went a little too far with that conversation," she said.

"Come on," he said.

It was sort of silly. They'd been friends for a while, and had talked about worse. She'd probably talked to him about more deep secrets than anyone else.

"I'm just thinking about what you said. I think it is interesting that you don't like it," he said.

"I'm trying to figure out why," he said.

"I already told you why," she said, ordering another beer.

"I know — but I feel like it is more than that," he said.

"Well, I guess it is sort of like my feelings about hard liquor — no pun intended," she said, and he laughed.

"I don't like it unless it is really top shelf — then I really enjoy it," she said.

He smiled and lifted his glass of bourbon, and toasted her beer. She laughed.

"So, how often have you had this 'top shelf' then?" he said.

"I guess that would have to be wondering how often have I had a guy doing that to me without me thinking, 'ok, enough already,'....," she said.

"Wow, tough audience. Yes, I guess that's the question," he said.

"Well, I'm not that bad. There have been guys or experiences that it's taken me longer than others to grow impatient. And it could be that I just really like fucking also, which adds pressure on a guy. Unless it's better than that, enough already," she said.

"That makes sense. So has there ever been a time when you not only weren't impatient, but you actually were thinking, or even saying...'Please, don't stop,'" he asked.

His eyes were on hers. She started to feel funny. Too revealed.

"Why am I telling you this stuff?" she said.

"Because you tell me everything," he said.

"So was there?" he asked.

She thought a minute.

"Yes. Yes, there was one time," she said.

"What made that different?" he asked.

She was starting to feel a little light-headed. Not sure if it was the booze or the conversation. Probably both.

"I had a good friend for many years. We were platonic, other than a brief, mostly innocent hook up in high school. But he always wanted more. And I was very innocent early on," she said.

He sipped his drink, listening.

"When we sort of both realized we weren't going to end up together, there was one thing he continued to persist that he wanted — relationship or not. Just one time," she said.

"Which was?" he said.

She blushed. Glanced around.

"No one can hear us. Come on. What was it?" he said.

"He wanted to taste me," she said, drinking quickly to cover her embarrassment.

"And how long did he persist in asking you?" he said.

"Six years. Before I relented," she said.

"Wow. It better be good, in that case," he said.

"It was," she said.

She sort of glazed over looking away. Thinking about it.

"Of course, it was a long time ago. So I don't remember exact specifics. I just remember what made such an impression on me was that it was all we did. Nothing else. He wanted nothing else," she said.

"Really?" he said.

"Yes. I think it was that he was at the cross roads of becoming serious with someone and we sort of knew it was either that night or never. I remember the moment I agreed. I remember him shutting off the lights ...leading me to his bed," she said.

Then she snapped out of it.

"Anyway...you get the idea. It was that he was getting pleasure from doing it, and so eager to give me pleasure. This was no, 'Here's what I'm supposed to do next in screwing around,' or even worse, the 'Here's an easy way to get a girl wet quickly to make my life easier,'" she said.

"Wow. You've had some pretty selfish assholes, huh?" he said. He signaled to the bartender for another round.

"I can assure you that not all guys are that way. In fact, in my experience, if you're doing it right, she'll be plenty wet already by the time you do that — so she's ready, and wants it. That's really the best way," he said.

She twinged internally in an ever-so-pleasant way, but outwardly rolled her eyes.

"Is this where you tell me how fucking amazing you are in bed again?" she said.

He laughed.

"I mean, I certainly believe you, but after a while it moves beyond impressive and mildly torturous in a pleasant sort of way to plain out torture," she said, smiling.

"I'm sorry. I'm just trying to tell you that you don't like it because you haven't had it done right," he said, laughing.

"I know... I'm just teasing you," she said, smiling.

"I like hearing how you're the unstoppable love stallion of the century, actually. It gives me hope," she said.

He laughed.

"Hope for what?" he said.

"For the nature of men? That someone is doing it right? And getting it right, even if it isn't me, unfortunately? I don't know. Something. I just like it. I like you sharing it with me," she said, catching his eyes this time.

He winked at her.

"So, did you ever think maybe your feelings run deeper than those you admit to on the surface?" he asked.

"How so?" she said.

"Maybe Catholic guilt lingering?" he said.

"Your high school self probably thought a boy doing that to you was pretty dirty," he said, eyes on hers again. His voice lowered a little. She felt that twinge again, a little stronger this time.

He turned toward her, his side against the bar.

"And enjoying it? That would have been really dirty," he said.

She bit her lip a little bit. He had this way, this way of taking her off guard, making her see things a different way, even about herself.

One minute she was able to juggle all the balls of self control and coolness in the air and the next minute he'd pull one out and they'd all fall to the floor — before she even knew what happened.

"I never really thought of it that way," she said.

She crossed her legs and moved in her chair a little bit.

"You want to go?" he said.

"Sure," she said.

He paid the check. She offered him money but he wouldn't take it.

"Consider it my apology on behalf of inept, self-centered guys everywhere," he said.

"Shut up," she said, laughing.

They walked down the street, and he said, "What time is your train?"

"They are every hour, at about ten minutes after the hour. I can hustle and get the next one," she said.

"Why don't you stop by first? Get the next one. You can see my place. Then you don't have to rush. It's on the way," he said.

"Ok. That's easier than running," she said.

Her wheels were still spinning. His were too. She could see.

"So I think you're onto something. Not sure it is Catholic guilt or whatever. But maybe there's more to it than I thought. Now that I'm sure you're sick of talking about it," she said, after they'd gotten inside.

"Not at all. It's sort of fascinating me," he said, sitting down and handing her a drink.

She pulled her coat off before taking it, and let it fall to the floor.

"You know how I would rather be on the M side of sado-masochistic? That's my deal," she said.

"Really, I never realized," he said sarcastically.

She punched him in the arm.

"Watch it. That makes you more on the 'S' than the 'M' side," he said.

"Only if you enjoy it," she said, smiling.

"No comment. Go on," he said.

"Well, maybe I feel like being in that position isn't servant-like enough for me — that it makes the guy the one serving me," she said.

"As opposed to fucking you? Maybe it's only the way I do it, but I sure as hell am providing a service when I do," he said.

He turned the dial in her head another notch. Twisted that perspective.

"Then again, I consider myself full-service in this department," he said.

"I don't see why delivering you pleasure in that way is any different than any other way," he said.

"Well...actually, you're right. I never thought of it that way," she said, her voice different.

He moved to sit down next to her.

"And really, I can't think of a more vulnerable position for you to be in sexually. Open, and vulnerable. Completely submitting to someone else's control. You're problem is..." he said, his voice quiet.

She put her beer down, feeling his leg next to hers.

"You just put that control in the hands of some dipshit who didn't know what to do with it," he said.

She felt his hand move to her back, resting there.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Thinking," he said.

"You know I can't back away from a challenge," he said.

She closed her eyes.

"I wasn't challenging you," she said.

"We were talking as friends," she said, as he pulled her to her feet.

"I know. Maybe I'm challenging myself. Maybe as a friend I can't let you continue with this general perception of eating pussy," he said.

She gasped and covered his mouth.

"Don't talk like that," she said

"You like when I talk like that," he said, backing her into a wall.

"Too much. I'm leaving," she said, trying to move out from him.

"Not yet," he said, pushing her back against the wall.

She covered her eyes with the back of her hand.

"You know I can't let you leave. Not without letting me," he said.

Now she covered her face with both her hands.

"No," she whispered, muffled from under her hands.

"I'm not letting you leave without letting me do this. And guess what else?" he said.

"What?" she sighed, knowing she was losing a battle in which both of them were against her weakening will.

"This way, you letting me do this is ....submitting to me. Submitting to what I want to do. I'm in control," he said.

He took her chin in his hand and moved his mouth to her ear.

"When you feel my mouth there. My tongue. It's because I want it. Not you. Me," he said.

He said all the things that he shouldn't have said , but the ones that worked.

"I can't do this," she said.

"You're not doing anything...I am," he said.

Before she knew it, he'd led her to his bed.

She tried to say more, and he covered her mouth with his hand.

"Shut up," he said.

He pushed her backwards onto his bed.

She leaned on her elbows, watching him. She could feel herself starting to shake.

He clicked off the light, leaving just a faintly lit room.

"Close your eyes," he said.

She stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes.

She heard something and then felt him wrapping something over her eyes. Before she knew it, she was blindfolded.

"Wait," she said, reaching her hands up to her face.

"Shhh," he said.

Over her on the bed now, he leaned to her ear. She felt him warm and strong over her.

Her fingers closed into fists.

"Listen to me. This is what I want you to do. Pretend this blindfold is inside your head too," he whispered, close to her ear.

"I want you to throw away all of your previous experiences with this. Pretend this has never happened to you before. Open your mind as if it is the first time. Can you do that?" he said.

In the darkness, with only his voice in her ear, she could. She nodded.

"Good girl," he said.

Still shivering, she felt his fingers at the front of her shirt, unbuttoning it one by one. Then at her jeans, pulling them off. It was terrifying to imagine herself naked without being able to see him or his eyes. What he was thinking. What he was doing. She felt completely helpless.

It was such a turn on.

She visibly shivered.

"Are you cold?" he said.

She laughed.

"Uh, no," she said.

He smiled silently — undetectably to her.

She felt, heard nothing. Then his hand in her hair.

His mouth over hers, warm, lips grazing hers. Then gently, so gently, his tongue softly licked her lips.

Her eyes fluttered beneath the blindfold.

She reached out for his mouth, and their tongues touched in the silence. In the darkness. His hand reached under her head to pull her mouth to his, their tongues together, mouths together. She reached up for him but he gently pushed her hands down again.

"Not yet. I don't want you to move," he said.

She listened.

He pulled his mouth away from hers again and then she felt his hands. His fingers touched her mouth. Then pulled away.

Her back arched as his hands moved to her shoulders, down, and under her breasts, up to her hardened nipples, pulling away again, then feeling his tongue on one, then the other, teasing, pulling away.

Her breathing was coming in shallow gasps now.

In her ear again, he whispered.

"Are you getting wet?" he asked.

She sucked in her breath quickly. Her hips writhed. Her back arched.

"God, yes," she said.

She felt him now, his hands on her knees, gently spreading her legs open. Her teeth started to chatter again. For some reason, she was suddenly terrified. She could barely breathe.

She felt him kneeling between her legs, over her body, up to her mouth again.

He gently licked her lips once more.

"You want me to do it now," he said.

It wasn't a question.

"No...," she said.

"No, I'm afraid," she said.

"Afraid of what?" he whispered.

"I don't know. I really don't," she said.

His fingers found her nipple again and she cried out softly.

"You're afraid you're going to like it. That's what you're afraid of," he whispered, saying her name.

"That's what this has been about all along," he said.

His fingers moved from her nipple...down. He pushed her legs open more. Found her pussy, and gently stroked it, outside, softly. Her hips lifted unconsciously.

"You need to let go of that. Just let it go...lose control...," he whispered in her ear.

Her turn on was volcanic. His fingers insistent, gently opening her now, finding her so wet, so ready.

"I want you to want this so badly you're ready to beg me for it. Do you?" he said.

"Yes...yes," she said.

And she did.

He gently moved his mouth toward hers, and softly licked her lips again. The psychological impact of his unexpected tongue was shocking her into complete loss of control.

"You want my tongue?" he said. "Please stop..," she said, unable to catch her breath.

"I want this. I want to taste how wet you are," he said.

Her eyes rolled again.

"Hurry. Please. Just ...," she said.

She felt him moving. His hands on her inner thighs.

Silence.

Darkness.

And the gentle touch of his tongue on her inner thigh.

She jumped as if it was a live flame.

He smiled his silent smile again.

He couldn't let her wait any longer, because if he was honest, he couldn't wait any longer himself.

As he touched her clit with his tongue, he realized his mouth was actually watering. She was so wet. So ready. He held her writhing hips steady and strong in his hands.

She felt his tongue on her clit, licking it at first, then teasing his tongue back and forth gently over it. Then stronger.

She was so wet. So delicious.

Then something happened he didn't plan for, or expect.

He lost control of himself. His reaction to her shuddering, naked, turned on body on his bed, her wet pussy in his mouth. He sucked her clit into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and nibbling with his teeth.

Her back arched, her gasps turned to heavy, breathy, screaming sighs. Her fingers dug into his bed.

His tongue penetrated her now, licking, and sucking deep within her, and she tried to beat him away, wriggle away — it was too much.

His dick was rock hard. He let her get away for a second — in time to pull his tshirt over his head and get out of the rest of his clothes, as she lay gasping, curled up on his bed.

"Stop...it's enough. You proved your point. I believe you," she shakily whispered.

Still blindfolded, she shuddered, trying to hold her arms around her knees.

"Fuck. That," he said, deliberately.

She fought him, but he pulled her back down, opened her arms, her legs, lifted her hips to him, and took her pussy in his mouth again.

Her sighs gave out to raspy screams as he relentlessly sucked at her clit, his arms now locked around her thighs to keep her still and tight to his mouth.

Now she understood why she was afraid, because he'd well gone beyond the "I can't take it" boundary, and from the first time she came she couldn't stop. She finally pulled the blindfold off, to bury her fingers in his hair, pulling it, scratching his arms.

After the last time she came loudly, they both slowed..her laying back, his tongue gently circling her clit...his hands free now to let go, they moved up to her body, to her nipples again...

Slow motion, erotic, she softly writhed under his pressured teasing of her clit, bringing her there, slowly...slowly...her hips writhing with his movements, her fingers in his hair...whispering now

"Oh....yeah...."

"That's it....oh yeah...."

Rhythmic, gently circles of his tongue, teasing, penetrating, circling, stroking her nipples, her body, her breasts, her ass lifting in the air...

"Almost...oh ....yeah...almost...that's it..," she whispered, whispering his name.

He felt her shudder with the last circles he made, knowing that one last pressure, gently sucking her clit into his mouth..that would be it...

"Now...that's it...now....oh God...oh yeah...," her fingers tightened in his hair...and she ....she...she.....came..., arching, softly, sighing...quietly, pulling him away now, up, coming as their tongues teased, their kissing wet, both hot and hard and wet against each other...kissing..kissing...

He pulled away, and brushed the hair out of her eyes.

"Okay?" he whispered.

She laughed softly.

"No...I wouldn't describe myself as okay...but I'll let you know what I am in about four days when I can put a sentence together," she said.

He kissed her again, and moved over her, pressing himself between her legs.

"How about we make it five days..maybe six?" he said.

"No....no, I can't. Are you crazy?" she said.

"No..I told you. I'm just full service," he said.

She laughed, but sucked in her breath feeling his hard dick against her swollen, hot, soaking wet pussy.

"Ok...but I'll just have to warn you. You might have to stop talking about you being the screw of the century for a few days, since I'm pretty much the fuck of the millennium," she said, laughing.

"We'll see," he said, smiling back at her.

She laughed but the feeling of his hard dick sliding inside her shut her off quickly. She had no voice left to scream, so instead, she just dug her nails into his back and whispered, urging, and he fucked her fast, hard. He was just too turned on by the taste of her, the feel of her, her eyes, faster...faster.

He pulled out and turned her over on her knees, and she arched deep down to let him slide in as far as he could go.

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byLucy1970Harker© 5 comments/ 20589 views/ 16 favorites

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