A Man Among Boys

Despite all my attempts to be as cool as he was or at least as outwardly calm, I couldn't help but make a soft whimper when he pressed the thumb of his right hand to the pulse beating just beneath my ear before he stroked the tip of his fingers along the soft lines of my throat in an agonizing tickle that made me squirm beside him. His fingers stopped beneath my chin, tilting my face up in order to study my mouth. I could see his eyes in the glare of passing headlights and the intermittent street lights along the highway. They burned into me. My lips parted in anticipation of the kiss I was practically begging for with every unintentional squirm of my hips. Instead of kissing me however, he smiled down at me, using the tip of his index finger to trace my naked bottom lip.

"You really are so beautiful, Roxie," his soft, sensuous voice filled the air between us, holding a depth of sincere admiration I had yet to hear from any of the other men I had been with. He lowered his face to mine, coming closer and closer to my lips, close enough I could feel the puff of his easy breaths against my soft mouth. His beautiful honey-hazel eyes bore into mine, roving over my face, tracing the shape of my lips which opened in hungry anticipation. I licked my lips, willing him to kiss me, silently pleading, and he smiled that soft, slow sexy smile as if he knew exactly what all his slow, teasing touches and hungry glances were doing.

I risked a peek at the Uber driver who was either not interested in anything we were doing, or had seen people flirt so often in the back of his car that the novelty had worn off. Feeling secure that we weren't being observed, I gave in to temptation and closed the distance between us, pressing my lips against his sexy smile. I felt his smile deepen for a second before he kissed me back. His lips were masterful, pulling at mine, with little teasing touches of his tongue along my bottom lip. I opened my mouth, offering him my tongue, eager to taste his lips, but he pulled back and nuzzled my neck instead denying me the deep, sensual kiss I hungered for, using his long fingers to tilt my chin up so he could gain access. He nibbled the quick pulse he found there, feeling my fast-tripping heart beats with those gorgeous lips.

My skin sizzled beneath his lips, my head tilted back with hot little gasps escaping my open mouth. I was so lost in mere moments beneath his skillful ministrations that by the end of the ride, my clit was throbbing and felt like it had grown twice its size. Internal clench after clench dripped waves of moisture from my lips until my panties and jeans were nearly soaked through.

I asked him there on the dark front step if he was attached, just to make sure. He smiled at me, just a tilt of one corner of his mouth and touched a finger to my lips, tracing his index finger over my naked bottom lip before he answered.

"I wouldn't be here if I was, promise. I take it you aren't either?" I shook my head. Good. I didn't want to fuck around with a married man, not my scene.

My hands shook too much to get the key into the front door lock. Mat took my key from me, grazing my palm with his fingertips as he did and sending a shock through me. He deftly slid it in, turned the bolt and opened the door for me.

Now that we were in my safe space, I took the lead not that he seemed disinclined to do so. I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him through the front room and down the hallway to my bedroom. I closed the door behind us and turned on my bedside lamp to bathe the room in a soft glow.

Once I got him inside, I kind of lost my direction. Not due to lack of desire, not by any means. Oh no, I wanted this man more than I've ever wanted another man in my life. This was just usually the point where the 'bros' would do their thing and I didn't have to think anymore. They'd either push my face into their crotch or push my shoulder to the bed. It's the only kind of sex I've ever known. I lost my virginity to the lead high school jock and have been giving it to boys just like him ever since.

"Do you... do you want a drink?" I asked, my mouth dry. He shook his head, his eyes intent and focused on mine. I blinked and looked away, feeling awkward despite the pure spikes of lust I had been feeling for him since we met.

"No, but do you?" I shrugged my shoulders. We kind of stood there in silence for a bit, my heart beating out of my chest. I thought for sure he could hear it, could feel my pulse in the very room. Thankfully he took pity on me and took my quaking hands within his own much larger ones, stroking the palms with his thumbs in a way that was both comforting and erotic at that same time.

"What do you want, Roxie? Tell me." It wasn't a demand, it wasn't an order. Just patient, kind, open... and so arousing. I couldn't keep still, rocking side to side slightly, rolling the thick seam of my jeans over my swollen folds, all the while his thumbs traced their erotic path over my palms, up to the pulse in my wrist. All I could feel was the delicious pressure of his thumbs and all I could think about was the sweetness of his lips. I so wanted to have those strong thumbs and teasing fingers apply pressure to other tense places, feel those lips against my own again, taste him, suckle him... it was agonizing and I think he knew it.

"I want... I want you." I breathed into the air between us. He stepped closer, coming to stand toe to toe so I had to crane my neck back, his fingers tracing their way up my arms, to the bend of my elbows, applying their delicious pressure there.

"Roxie," he said my voice soft and low, sending a shiver down my spine before stepping even closer so the tips of my breasts brushed against the top of his stomach. His hands abandoned my arms and started that erotic stroke and pressure along my hips, his thumbs applying teasing pressure to the hollow of my stomach on either side of my belly before sliding his hands up my back, pulling me closer until my full breasts pressed against his hard chest. My heavy breasts felt achy and tender with the press, the tips hard and sensitive, trapped between us. All the while his hands continued their soothing, erotic pressure on all the tender places of my back, the dip at my waist, the curve of my spine, the tense muscles of my shoulders...

"How do you want me?" He breathed down at me, barely a whisper, his voice husky and seductive, calling to me. He ground his hips into me and I felt the hot, hard press of him for the first time and gasped. Oh god... this is it. This is how I die. Is spontaneous combustion still a thing? I was on fire, burning from the inside. Something within me wanted out, right then, in that moment with those words, with the feel of his hard cock rocking suggestively against me. His voice was so seductive, deep and smooth. It pulled at my core while his cock called out to something primal within me. I felt like there was something inside me struggling to break loose.

I launched myself at him crushing his face down to mine. His mouth was lush and warm, hard and pliant all at the same time. He kissed me back, strong, but he didn't force his kiss on me, if that makes sense. He let the kiss go where I wanted, in the direction I needed it to. When I wanted more tongue, he gave it, when I wanted to give him my tongue, he took it. He kissed me and let me kiss him until I was breathless.

The whole time his hands roved everywhere, applying that seductive massage which was burning me from the outside in. His hands found the peaks of my large breasts, using those magic thumbs to capture them beneath layers of shirt and bra and stiffen my nipples even further to the point they felt like little tender pebbles. I marveled and ached in silent, needy frustration at his self-control with my breasts. Not to brag or anything, but they were much more than a generous handful in a curving tear drop shape that turned even me on and drove all the bros wild. At this point, the bros would have had my top off and be tit-fucking me, but his sensuous caresses stayed demurely above my shirt.

Confused, I pulled back, breathless, fighting my intense desire to crush his face down to my breasts and force him to acknowledge my need and stop this teasing, this dance between what I wanted but couldn't find the words to articulate.

"Do you," I licked my lips, "do you have a condom? Because if you don't I do, is that ok with you? Condoms?" I asked, trying to figure him out. What did he want? Did he want me? The front of his pants said yes, but his hands still on this side of my clothing said not yet.

"Yes, of course it's ok, but is that what you want? For us to have sex right now?" He released me and stepped back, drawing my attention to the thick bulge in the front of his jeans. He stroked his hardness with the flat of one of those magic hands, using the tips of his fingers to fondle his balls through his jeans and I licked my lips. He looked impossibly thick and hard beneath the layers of fabric and I longed to see his true shape. The way he looked me in the eye, watched my face while he stroked his cock was intensely erotic, and familiar. It was a bro move, to stroke himself in front of me and something clicked.

Ok. I got it. I knew finally what this was all about, this teasing. I felt disappointed, somehow, crestfallen that it was coming to this anyway, but not entirely surprised. I have been told more than once that I had a "fuckable mouth." I guess I had hoped this time it would be different, but in the end, men were men, after all, right? Resigned, I dropped to my knees, my hands going to his belt, but he stopped me.

"Wait, is this what you want? To suck my dick? I mean, I'm not going to lie, I'd fucking love that, but only if it is what you want to do. What do you want, Roxie?" I was starting to get frustrated with this question. I don't know. I wanted him, whatever that meant, even if it meant just sucking his cock and fingering myself while I did. At least it was a piece of him and I was so hungry, I'd take any piece I could get. Wasn't that enough? To want just even that small piece? He waited for me to answer, my panties growing ever wetter, my breasts aching to be touched, skin on skin, under that sexy stare.

"I... I don't know." I shook my head and sat back on my heels, wringing my hands in my lap. "I've never been asked that before." Understanding suddenly arched his brow.

"I see. Ok. Well here's what I want." He lowered himself down, dropping to his knees in front of me so we were knee to knee and face to... well, clavicle, but he had my full, hungry, lustful attention.

"I want you to tell me everything you want me to do to you. Or I want you to do anything you want to me without having to say a word. If you want to suck my dick, then suck my dick. If you want to fuck me, then fuck me, but make sure it is something you want to do. Don't do it because you think you have to in order to please me. We could just sit here and talk the rest of the night if that is what you wanted, if it's what you needed." My brow furrowed, my mind in overdrive. I couldn't conceive really of what he was saying, what he meant. What kind of man could tease me into a frenzy and then tell me that he only wanted what I wanted even if that meant talking. It just didn't make any sense.

"You ok in there?" he said with a gentle smile, teasing me with his words this time instead of those insatiable hands. I started to nod absentmindedly before shaking my head instead.

"It's ok, Roxie... beautiful, sexy girl. Goddamn, you really are so irresistible." He traced a solitary finger down my cheek and over my bottom lip, down my throat to the exposed cleavage in the v of my shirt, unable to resist touching me even in some small way, and my skin came alive under the tip of his finger, burning in its wake.

I sat gasping, my hot breaths washing over the both of us, caught in his hazel-eyed stare. I had never been spoken to so directly about sex before, which is ridiculous, I was 22. I've had sex dozens of times with multiple boys, but not one, not ONE asked me what I wanted. I was shaken to my core. Is this what it was like to fuck a man and not a boy? When boys grew up, did they just suddenly understand what it all meant? How to fuck a woman properly? What happened between now and then? Or was Mat just some miracle dropped from heaven in the form of a sexy, seductive, gorgeous man?

Slowly, I leaned forward until I could press my lips against his own once again. This time though, I did what I wanted and not what I thought he wanted. I took it slow, learned the shape of his mouth. I tasted him. Tasted the whiskey on his tongue, the sweetness of his breath. I felt his lips with my own by just simply pressing my lips against his just to feel them. The power, the freedom really, to do what I wanted without the pressure to perform, to be the sexy blonde sorority girl with the big tits willingly bouncing on the jock's cock brought tears to the back of my eyes. With this man, I could be myself. I could see what sex was all about at my pace, with my needs at the fore. I was so grateful to him.

I reached for his hands, and because it was what I wanted, I guided them back to my breasts. They were aching to be touched again, just so heavy feeling with tight, sensitive nipples. He cupped them first before rolling his thumbs over the taut peaks. I moaned against his lips. His hands felt so, so good. I was usually groped quickly, with a squeeze and jerk, but this... this was worship, and I wanted more.

I pulled back, pulled off my cardigan with its peekaboo lace insets, then took his hands and guided them to the hem of my shirt.

"Take my shirt off," I whispered into the air. He pulled my shirt up and off, whisking it over my head. My breasts were spilling out of my demi-bra, the hard tips pushing against the cruel fabric. I reached around and unclasped the band while his hands reached for the straps, sliding them down my arms. The cups fell away and my breasts fell free, heavy and aching. I set the bra aside and put his hands back.

His magic thumbs smoothed the deep creases the bra left in my skin, smoothing the supple flesh, bringing back life to the pinched skin. It was so erotic, somehow, just sitting there on my knees, letting him attend to the little wounds of a pinching bra while I sat passive, experiencing the pleasure for pleasure's sake.

Then he found my nipples with those circling thumbs. Pinched them lightly between thumb and forefinger and I cried, open mouth, head thrown back. The tug of his fingers traced a path down past my navel, making everything warm deliciously.

"Taste my breasts, please," I cried out, my voice thick and husky with need. He hefted both of my breasts in his hands, propping them up before his face and studying them. He nuzzled his face between them and I gasped when I felt the rasp of his new beard growth against my sensitive, pillowy breasts. I dug my fingers in his thick brown hair, tugging urgently at the strands, willing him to find a taut peak and soothe the ache there. As if in answer, he kissed his way to one hard peak, and lanced my deep rose-pink nipple with his tongue before suckling me. Oh it felt so good. I was on fire. I might cum just from this. His warm wet lips surrounded me and suckled me while my clit just jumped and begged in response.

I dragged his hand to my wet crotch, barely able to rasp out "touch me, touch me here," and he did. He touched my thighs at first, using those thumbs to dig into the soft flesh, making luscious circles up and up to the crease between. I spread my legs a little wider in invitation and then his hands were there, touching me through the wet fabric of pants and panties, rubbing my aching lips that were so full and flush in heat that I could feel my heartbeat in their folds.

"Yes, please," I whimpered, so hot, so ready.

"Please what, Roxie?" Mat asked, deep and low, leaning over me, his mouth inches before mine, his fingers teasing me nearly senseless yet denying me the hard touch on my clit I craved and desperately needed. He nibbled my ear, whispering "What do you want?" and I shivered at the seductive, barely restrained note in his voice. I could hear how hard this was for him too, to hold back, to give me all and take nothing for himself.

"I want..." I panted, "I want you."

"How, how do you want me? My mouth, my cock? Which?"

"I want..." his mouth? I've only ever been glancingly licked there by boys in the past. They'd shove their face in the apex of my thighs and lap at me like I was spilled milk for all of five minutes before climbing on top of me, and whenever that happened, I was definitely not as wet and slick as I was now. Should I ask for that? Would it be gross, all wet like it was, crying for release?

"Be brave, sweet Roxie, take what you want," he rasped out, finding at last through layers of clothing that spot where so many bros had tried and failed to find and touch clothing free. I whimpered as he stroked my clit, finally giving me the touch I craved, but then he backed off again, moving away and I wanted to cry in frustration. I craved more, I needed more, and all I needed to do was call out and take what I wanted.

"I want your mouth!" I sobbed, brave at last. If he wanted to tease and play the toy, then I would use him as one, let him suck my greedy little pussy to the climax I literally ached for.

"Good girl," Mat stood up then, pulling me to my feet. He unsnapped and unzipped my jeans, tugging them past my full hips, down past my thick thighs and then helped me step out of them. I could smell my wet heat and felt my face flame further, knowing that he could probably too. Would he want to taste that? I didn't smell bad, by any means, and luckily Dee and I had our wax appointment just yesterday. I just smelled so, just so... so deep, richer than ever. I was wetter than I've ever been in my life, so slippery my thighs were wet too.

He pulled me from those thoughts by leading me to the edge of the bed, but at the very end of it, settling my ass on the very corner of the bed so I was almost straddling the two sides.

He knelt between my legs, sliding his long-fingered hands up my smooth thighs, using his strong thumbs to massage my inner thighs as he got closer and closer to the core of me. I could feel his hot breath suddenly wash over my wet heat. I held my breath in anticipation but I couldn't take my eyes away. His eyes were on my pussy, closely watching each quiver, each clench.

He used his thumbs first to part my folds and reveal my hard, tiny hidden clit that was beat red and pulsing in time to my heart beat. I heard him kind of gasp and then whisper "fucking hell" as he studied me.

"You are beautiful, Roxie, just such a pretty, sexy pussy." I blushed, if at all possible, at these words. My pussy was beautiful? I've never been told that in my life. The bros told me I was hot, that they wanted to fuck my "hot pussy," but none have ever called it beautiful like he did, with such fervor, almost reverence.

He continued to breathe hard as he looked at me, bathing me in hot breaths. I could feel them wash over all my wetness. He used his thumbs to part my folds, exposing my clit, and he cursed again under his breath. My clit was hot, red, and swollen to twice its usual size. The air teased it in a way that made it jump before his eyes. He started touching me, touching all over, tugging at generous lips, playing with all my wetness, touching everywhere but where I wanted. I begged with open mouth cries, with my squirming hips for his touch, for his lips, his tongue... anything to ease that ache.

He bent his head and suckled my full lips, tugging on them with gentle suction. I gasped and my legs tried to close involuntarily, but his broad shoulders between my knees kept them open. He stopped for a moment to heft my legs over his shoulders, supporting my thighs with his shoulders and biceps.