Moments of Clarity

Moments of Clarity

It’s all in the details.

Sex is so many things and all too often it’s the big picture that steals the show. So often hear we ourselves say things like, ‘I got laid!’ ‘Fantastic sex!’ ‘He/she/they were amazing in bed!’ True, no doubt. But lacking in detail.

For the minute details bear the weight of our memories and fantasies. Snippets of images, fragments of time, slivers of sensations. It is these that, for me, define the sex. It is these that linger and flash into my head at random moments. A feeling, a smell, a taste, a memory. I offer here a very abridged list:

White, cotton knickers.

Cheap quality. Made in Bangladesh or some strange place. Too small, too tight, even on her slim, girlish hips. Her cunt lips are visible, pressing and swelling against the fabric. You strain to see if that is, indeed, a patch of moisture there. Right in the middle of her crotch. Below her cunthole. It is. There is only one way to fuck her when she is wearing cheap, white, Made in Bangladesh, cotton knickers. From behind. Pull them roughly to one side, up over her ass cheek. Slide inside her cunt, looking down to watch her cunt coat your cock in warm, luscious juice. You can hold the knickers tight in your fist as you fuck her or you can just enjoy seeing them up over her ass cheek. If they slip down, keep fucking. Let your cock rub roughly against the elastic. When you cum, pull out, grab your cock hard and point it at her cunt and asshole. Spray your hot seed all over her crotch. Then slide said knickers back into place. Let her wear them like that for the rest of the day. She likes that.

The Moment: Sliding them back into place over your hot, dripping cum. Patting it gently, letting it ooze into the fabric.

The Moment 2: A hour later. At a café. She spreads her legs. Up her skirt you can see they are still moist with your cum.

Buttplugs.

Black, hard, plastic, shiny. Medium-sized. There’s only one way to lubricate them before insertion. In the mouth, on the tongue. Swirling your spit on the tip. Pull it out, a trail of saliva stringing out in the air. Pull an ass cheek to one side. Get your head in close. Circle tip around the twitching muscles. Ease tip in. Watch muscles flex. Nostrils flared – the scent is musky. Forbidden. Mouth open. Panting. Push it in. Farther. Hear the moans. Acceptance and reluctance all at once. Force it in. Gentle but insistent. Watch asshole expand. Spreading wide over the widening girth of the plug. Then quickly snapping shut when the plug narrows again. Almost in relief. Ecstasy. Hear moans. A different pitch now. Wiggle it teasingly. Flick it hard. Regard it. Nothing like a black buttplug penetrating the hole between the soft, firm ass of a beautiful girl. Next time you let her do it to you. Sensing that pang of submission as she penetrates your asshole. Fucking her with the plug in your ass. Trying to keep it from falling out. She wiggles it as you fuck her. Watching your reaction. Fascinated. Aroused.

The Moment: When the muscles are stretched to the fullest at the widest point of the buttplug and then they swallow it, snapping shut.

Tiny blonde hairs.

The ones around her asshole. Only visible up close. Really close. And only when the sun is shining in the window at just the right angle. Tiny hairs, existing in the area right around her ass muscles. Licking her hot, slick cunt from behind, feeling her ass wriggle, urging you on, as you watch those hairs ride on the flexing of her ass muscles. Moving up and licking her ass. Probing her asshole tentatively with your tongue. Muscle against muscles. Wetting those hairs with your spit. Making them shine brighter in the sunshine of that distant summer day.

The Moment: First catching sight of them.

All the firsts.

Later sexual events normally overshadow the early days but there are many moments of clarity that will never be forgotten. They all triggered increased heartbeats, ragged breathing and that inevitable sensation in the trousers. The rush of blood to the cock. Among the most important events: The first kiss. The first time your hand closes around the fleshy tit of a girl and seeks out her erect nipple. The first time your hand works its way past the elastic of her knickers and, most importantly, she lets you. The first contact with her cunt. That indescribable sensation of feeling the heat of her wet cunt for the first time. The first penetration where the head of your cock eases past her lips. The physical sensation was amazing, but the activity in the brain - the amazement, the stunned realisation, the internal shouting ‘I’m doing it!! It’s happening!!’ - is sharper and more intense. The first orgasm where you shoot your cum inside of a girl. The first taste of a girl’s cunt and the first time you give a girl an orgasm, feeling her writhe and quiver on your tongue.

The Moment(s): All of them.

Voyeurism.

You wake up. Strangely aroused. Sounds dancing through your dreams. Distant. Insistent. It’s dark in the tiny Parisian hotel room. You’re alone in your bed. But as your grogginess fades you realise they’re fucking on the other bed. Conflicting emotions rage within you. Anger at their lack of respect. Jealousy – you’ve fancied your friend’s girl for ages. Arousal - your cock is hard under the sheets. You squint, pretending you’re asleep but you watch their silhouettes in the dark. His ass pumping his cock into her. They try to keep quiet. Faint moans. You want to jack off but know you can’t. Then you see it. You look up at her and see her eyes. It’s dark, but she’s looking at you. Wanting you to watch? You don’t know. You open your eyes. He doesn’t notice. You lie there staring into her eyes until he grunts and shoots his cum inside of the hot cunt you have coveted for so long. She looks at you the whole time. At breakfast she whispers: ‘I was imagining it was you.’ You don’t know what to say or do.

The Moment: Her eyes on yours.

Elevator.

It was going to happen. No doubt about it. You’ve known that for that past two hours at the party in the hotel bar. You’re on the way up to her room. The eye contact is electric even though you haven’t even kissed her. Touched her. She leans back against the wall, staring you in the eye, blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. A little sexy smile creeps onto her lips. She reaches slowly – so slowly – down and lifts up the hem of her little black dress. She lifts it up slowly – so slowly. Your breath goes all ragged. You can’t stare her in the eye. You have to look. She reveals her cunt to you. It is shaven clean. Not a trace of stubble. She spreads her legs a little, balancing on her heels and slides a long, elegant finger between the cleft of her aroused cunt, wetting it with her juices. She raises the finger to your mouth. You suck her cuntjuice off her finger. The elevator bell rings. The doors open. She lets her hem drop and walks out of the elevator ahead of you, taking out her keys as you follow her. Stunned. Amazed. Erect.

The Moment: The sight of her shaved cunt and wet, glistening lips in the neon light of the elevator.

Finger in the ass.

You’re young – only 18 - and haven’t even pondered this possibility. She’s 28. Been around the block a few times. Has her own flat. You’ve just fucked on her sofa. You’re in the shower. Soaping each other up. Teasing. Kissing. Giggling. She gets a mischievous look in her eye and turns you around. You wonder what she’s doing and brace yourself against the shower wall. She reaches around, hand covered in soap and starts slowly, sexily jacking your cock. That’s not so bad. But then her other hand slides between your cheeks. Her long finger quickly finds your asshole. You panic but don’t say a word. She jacks your hard cock as she slowly slides her middle finger into your ass. You swallow hard as she starts fucking your virgin ass with her finger and jacking your cock with the same rhythm. A good rhythm. Against your will you buck your hips but this only helps her fuck your ass. Suddenly you don’t care. You hear yourself groan. You like it. She jacks you until your hot cum spurts out onto her hand and onto the shower wall. She smiles naughtily. Knowing she was fucking with your head and your ass.

The Moment: When her finger forces its way past your reluctant ass muscles.

Willingness.

Nothing like a willing partner. Eagerness is, of course, a turn-on. But there are moments that stand out, often when you least expect it. Like when you both enter the room, carrying the grocery bags. You see her saunter over to a chair and bend over the back of it. Pulling down her track suit pants and knickers in one swift movement. She looks over her shoulder at you, eyes fiery and insistent. Her cunt and ass are bared to you. Her cunthole is wet, her lips spread, her clit erect. The bags drop to the floor. Your hands fumble at your belt and fly as you approach her. Your cock hardens quickly, loyally, eagerly. She spreads her legs as you approach. She looks away, bracing herself. Her breath a hiss. Without ceremony you grab your cock hard and it slides deftly into her waiting cunt. It is all hard, intense and quick. You fuck her with a hand on her back, pressing her down hard, surprised at this unexpected sex, at your own desperate desire to cum. Her moans are animalistic and match your own. You slam her hard, sinking your cock to the hilt with every thrust. No finesse, just fucking. You cum suddenly and violently. Freezing as your cock erupts inside of her and empties your balls of their cum. You pull out. She stands up and pulls up her track suit and knickers, turning to kiss you with a wink and a conspiratorial smile. She picks up the groceries and goes out into the kitchen.

The Moment: The unexpected sight of her bare cunt and ass and her track suit puddled around her ankles.

Tasting your own cum.

She loves giving head. She loves to swallow it. You are amazed at her eagerness to swallow it. She’s sucked your cock to orgasm a half-dozen times. Just thinking about her doing it makes you hard and have to jack off. This time, on your bed, lying there naked with her blonde hair dancing on your stomach and balls as she sucks your cock – you cum hard. Harder than ever. She gathers it all up in her mouth. Like always. You are still recovering from your orgasm when she climbs up, straddles your chest and leans down to kiss you. You let her. But suddenly realise she hasn’t swallowed. The taste of your cum, sharp, bitter, salty-sweet fills your mouth. She holds your head, kissing you passionately. You let her. You taste yourself on her tongue and on your own. You swallow, feeling that bitter taste glide down your throat. Your cock stays hard. You are still aroused. She shifts and grabs your cock without breaking off the kiss. Guides it into her cunt, squealing into your mouth. It turns her on, too. Making you swallow your own cum. You fuck.

The Moment: The taste hitting your tongue. The realisation.

Voyeur 2

If you could write poetry, you would have written about her. About her body. Her tight, wet cunt. Her firm tits. Her willing asshole. Even her smile. She’d let you fuck her twice. ‘For fun’, she had said but you were besotted by her. By her sex but also by her aloofness and the sense that you’d never win her affection. That night you were hoping for a third fuck and you were ready to declare your love for her. But she disappeared from the party. You wandered around the house after her. Sick to the stomach when you spied her in a bedroom. Skirt around her waist. Tits out. Bent over the edge of the bed. Two older men in their 50’s – your dad’s business associates – having their way with her. One fucking her cunt from behind, his fat belly jiggling. Her sucking the other’s cock as he lay on the bed. It was her ecstatic moans that gutted you like a fish. She was loving it. Couldn’t get enough. She swallowed first one load of old man cum and they spun around to suck the cum out of the other. They were all laughing afterwards. The little slut caught your eye through the crack in the door and she smiled mockingly at you. You limp away, emotionally wrecked, but find yourself in the bathroom, jerking off into the toilet with images of her parading in front of your eyes.

The Moment: Her moans piercing the air.

Sensitive nipples.

German. Blonde. Charming. Amazing in a bikini. You noticed her nipples first. Hard not to. Bullet-like and constantly erect. Even in a dress or a t-shirt they were prominent. Fascinating. Mostly because you have a secret. It’s a lonely affliction having nipples more sensitive than anyone you’ve ever met. Even though it turns woman on when the secret is revealed to them, you long to share it. So imagine the thrill when, after making the appropriate advances, you are engaged in a kiss on yet another evening summer beach in southern Europe. Imagine the thrill when your hand brushes over one of her fascinating nipples and she literally gasps and shakes. You stop. Look at her. Her mouth is open, eyes wild. Just from that brush of the hand. You test the waters again. This time determinedly taking the nipple between two fingers and rolling it gently. Yes. Again. Her whole body rocks and reels at your touch. Earthquake. All she can mutter are two words. ‘More. Both’. Your eyes are wide in amazement. Both nipples are attended to now and she cannot control her body. Twitching, moaning, on the verge of orgasm. You want to tell her about your own sensitive nipples but this is too incredible. She pulls down your shorts in desperation and virtually throws you to the sand, your cock waving in the air. Erect. She lifts up her skirt and pulls her knickers to the side, straddling you, desperate to get your cock into her cunt. You slide easily up into her. She pulls her shoulder straps down, exposing those tits. Those nipples. She takes your hands and places them on her tits. ‘More’. You oblige. She does the hard work, squirming to several orgasms on your cock as you merely hold onto her nipples with firm pinching. In awe at her arousal. Later, you manage to tell her about your own nipples. She doesn’t believe you at first until she test drives them and realises it’s true. The next three days are spent fucking with four nipples at the centre of attention.

The Moment: the electric touch of brushing your hand on her nipple for the first time.

Infidelity.

You can’t plan it if you want to enjoy it. You can never arrange amazing affairs. They creep up on you when you least expect it. They leer at you, mock you, take the piss out of your weakness. They make your cock harder than ever before and they dangle the forbidden apple in front of your face. It was pure business. She had flirted all day at the long, drawn-out meeting and came along when the hosts took everyone out to dinner that evening. An elegant brunette with a long, slim frame, she looked exquisite in her smart business outfit. Skirt and jacket. Expensive. The flirtation continued throughout the evening. You tried to keep a lid on it so as not to raise her colleagues eyebrows but it was difficult. At no point had you considered anything more than flirting. Nor did she. But when you suddenly found ourselves alone in the hotel bar, everyone else having gone home, the atmosphere shifted. The realisation of the possibilities dawned on you both. Nobody would know. One night. Right now. No words are spoken. The eyes say it all. A long moment during which the eyes reveal everything. The possibilities. The desire. The decision-making process. Rounded off by the both of you quickly downing the last of your red wine and heading sheepishly out to the elevators. Going up to your room. It came out of nowhere, but it snowballs fast. The most delicious kind of intensity. Rising like a flash flood. Into the room and it goes faster. No finesse, only desire. Before you can blink you’re both naked on the bed in a heated 69. Another blink and you’re inside her. The ecstasy of the forbidden fruit enraptures you both. Both of your faces are twisted into orgasm and disbelief. You never consider any consequences until the next day.

The Moment: the realisation that nobody will know and that everything is possible.

Be my girl.

You’re obsessed by he. Known her for a couple of weeks. Fucked her four times. Eager to fuck her a fifth. You’re fascinated by her. By her strange aloofness. Her sexy, mischievous eyes. You can’t put your finger on it. You’ve jacked your cock endless times with images of her gorgeous body before your eyes. After a night out, back at her place, she reveals that she has a secret. One that she wants to share with you. One that she is sure you’ll enjoy. You just nod. Her power over you makes you willing. You eagerness for sex with her dominates your brain and cock. She lifts up the hem of her loose-fitting summer dress. So far so good, you think. Until you see it. Packed tightly into her little-girl knickers is something that resembles a cock. A big cock. A big, black, plastic strap-on cock. Life-like. It can barely be contained in the fabric of her knickers. Your mouth goes dry. You look at her. She smiles the sexiest smile and nods, saying, ‘I want you to be my girl...’ Your mind spins. Disgust, anger, disbelief. You realise your erection is intact. You swallow hard and you don’t budge, despite your brain screaming, ‘run!’. Your eyes are glazed, your breath short, sharp gasps. ‘Be my darling little girl, baby... I want to be your man...’ Your brain surrenders. The promise of sex, the intensity of your obsession with her is too much. Her hand presses down on your shoulder, forcing you gently down onto your knees. You do it. Robot-like. Conflicting thoughts raging in your brain. The final battle is taking place. ‘Am I gay? – this doesn’t make me gay...’ and ‘leave, immediately – fuck, she looks sexy with that cock...’and ‘there is NO way I’m going to... - it’s not a real cock, so that makes it okay...’ and so forth. Until her fingers grab your head and pull it towards her. Strangely, you know the drill. The ease of it all stuns you. You’ve seen it dozens of times from her angle. You know what to do. She eggs you on and her words only serve to turn you on and make you more and more willing. ‘That’s it, girl... See my big cock? It’s all for you, baby. All that beautiful cock is for you...’ You see your fingers grab the elastic of her knickers and pull it down over the large, angry cock. Once released, it snaps out and almost hits your face. Bobbing in front of you. The straps are tight around her narrow hips, holding her cock firm. ‘Ooh, baby, see how big and hard it is...’ You see it. You pull her knickers off, staring at her cock. ‘I think you know what to do, don’t you, baby...’ Bizarrely, you do. And you do it. You cross the line. You grab the thick shaft and pause. Her hips buck out just a little. Encouraging you. Your lips part and you find yourself inhaling her cockhead. The plastic warm from her body, but strange on the tongue. Your mouth filled with cock. Her arousal increasing drastically now and that only makes yours follow suit. ‘Fuck yeah, girl... suck my cock... good girl...’ She fucking loves it and she has you wrapped around her finger. You are now her girl and over the next two weeks you discover what that role entails. You like it. You play the role to perfection. You see everything in a new light. You feel everything in new holes. You enjoy it. For two weeks. Until the novelty wears off. She understands. Every time you see at bars and clubs with a new guy, you smile. Knowing what is in store for him.

The Moment: crossing the line. Inhaling her cock.

Like a glove.

In a life of fucking there are only a few – too few – perfect matches. There are too few perfect fits. But when they appear on the radar, you are never in doubt. You never expect it, either. It just slams into you like a freight train. Into the both of you. You know it from the first few centimetres of insertion. The first tentative thrust after you cockhead has found it’s mark, nudging it’s way between the soft, wet folds her cunt and resting at the entrance of her hole for a moment before nature takes its course and you enter her. It hits you both right there. The sounds of foreplay fade away for a moment, your mouths both open in silent screams. Your eyes widen and you stare at each other. In awe. In amazement. Your cock thrusts in, slower than expected, making it last. Her eyes try to stay focused on yours, resisting the temptation to roll back in her head. It’s a perfect fit. Your cock. Her cunt. Every detail is perfect. The angle of her cunt, the shape of your cock and its length and girth. Pure perfection. You both wish your cock could remain forever inside her cunt. The sex is understandably legendary. You never forget the perfect matches. You can still jack off to the memories of them. Every sensation fresh and new inside your head.