First time Poly and Serviced

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was so uncomfortable with the idea that my sexual needs would come first, or second, or third...or just over and over again until my brain felt foggy and my pussy ached. By the time he would slide his hard cock inside, I would be rallying to accept him, wet and open and desperate for more and also having had enough.

But after two sexually charged dates, that straddled the line of slutty, I was enthralled to find out what it would be like to be naked with him. Lying in his arms, head against his hairy chest, smelling him after sex, sweaty and sweet. I had tasted his cock and felt his mouth on my pussy and I knew I was probably in for a treat. But despite all the explicit sexy texting, the real thing is never as good as described, right?

We talked. We started with talking. Why did we start with talking? We talked too much. But that was the intellectual foreplay that also told me I was exactly where I should be. The emotional gymnastics my heart was doing as we laughed, and shared and flirted. The sweet kisses that started on the couch and began to escalate in intensity. Leaning in as he would knit his fingers through my hair, tugging gently, a moan escaping my lips and egging him on. As I swung my leg over his lap, I could feel him thick and firm against my inner thigh. I'd push down and grind with each kiss, letting him know, I feel you. I know what this is doing to you. And I want it, too.

My breast pulled up and out of my shirt, his mouth sucking it fully inside, feeling my perky hard nipple against his tongue. The look he gave me of satisfaction as he elicited a small gasp from me, and then another, and then an excited whine as he took it between his teeth. My clit starting to throb with each little tease and taunt. My panties getting wetter as his cock pushed up and into them.

Enough. Take me to your room. I want to be naked with you. I want you to lay your eyes on me fully and take me in, examine me. This weeks long intense flirting needs resolution. And I need a cock inside me that isn't my husband's. I need someone who is going to take charge and make good on his promises. I need you.

How, when or why the restraints came out so quickly, I'm not sure I'll ever fully understand. But strangely, the trust was there. The desire was definitely there. And the enthusiasm for new adventures was there. He was eager...to be slow. To take in the flavor of my pussy, sucking each drop off his fingers after he pushed them inside me. To run his fingertips across the lips of my labia, spreading me, applying gentle, steady pressure. His fingers digging into my thighs, making my nerves stand at attention and beg for more.

He would kiss and suck and bite his way down my body, nibbling folds of soft skin into his mouth, testing how my body would respond. Observing and learning with each passing minute and each passing gasp. I was a little bit shocked, expected to lay there and just take it. Take these waves of pleasure and ride them, arch my back and force my clit into his pursed lips and let him suck on me until the first orgasm coursed over my body. Toes pointed aggressively and finger tips digging into the sheets, wrists restrained and achy, but in a good way.

He would free my feet, let me wrap my legs around his head, draped across his upper back. Trying not to suffocate him as my thighs engulfed his face as another orgasm came, cumming hard against his tongue, feeling my juices spill out as he lapped them up and expressed how much he enjoyed it with a deep "mmm, yes, so good."

It was a blur after that. I don't know when the assault on my senses ended but at some point, I'd had enough. Had I? Or had my desire to please him overtaken my desire to be pleased? Had my discomfort with being put first finally been tested to the point where I had to resume my steady state role of pleaser? Either way, I needed to have his cock inside me. I needed to feel the weight of him against my chest. His pelvis pressed hard against mine, filling me up.

Bent over the bed, his hands caressing my ass, he finally pushed inside me. It felt like we had been fucking for hours and yet I was just now getting what I'd came for. Worth the wait, and my pussy so wet and open, the sex felt different than I remember sex feeling. My pleasure sitting right on the surface, another orgasm easily within my reach as he pressed inward and against my gspot. It's hard not to cum when he's inside me, I've since learned. He does such a beautiful job turning me on that it's a struggle to find the off switch. And sometimes I try, good God do I try, as my pussy drips all night long from the experience.

We collapsed into each other after he came, ribbons of cum sitting there as evidence in the condom of his arousal. Of the way he had internalized this experience. Of the way he had enjoyed me and been pleased by me. And yet, I felt confused. Confused because I wanted more and felt I deserved less. Wanting to shower him in thanks because he had done what I had done for others for over 20 years, fucked like my partner matters. It was disorienting and satisfying and would take some getting used to. But I was ready for the ride, because if that was just the beginning, where the fuck are we going?