Our Story Ch. 01

My hand hovers inches from your door, a sudden case of nerves attacking just before I enter your home. I check the time on my phone; I'm right on schedule. And my shitty car isn't exactly quiet. Surely you know I'm here? Why aren't you opening the door?

I take a deep breath, readjust my bag, and knock.

My fingers barely touch the door the first time, so I make sure to try harder. By the third knock, I hear the lock clicking and the door opening.

My hand freezes in midair as I take you in, staring dumbly on your doorstep. Your pictures did not do you justice. I stand frozen, drinking you in. The few years apart and your intense workout regimen have sculpted you into a modern warrior. Shoulders so broad they almost completely fill the door frame, leading into big arms, a thick chest, sturdy hips and legs. Your t shirt is so tight I can see the ridges of your abs.

One of those ridges twitches, and I feel my mouth drop open when I realize that huge bump is not a muscle.

Still shocked, I look back at your face in disbelief, my lips curling into an excited smile when I see the pleased smirk on your face. You've been staring at me too. My nipples tighten at the hungry look on your face. One, I'm sure, that mimics mine.

Your hand closes over my arm, drawing me into the hard ridges of your warm body, and then your lips are fused with mine, surprisingly soft. I hardly notice my bag slipping from my arm to yours. There are more important things to worry about.

Your tongue brushes my lips, and then a slight sting of teeth when I don't open fast enough. The slight pain makes me moan and you take full advantage, your mouth learning mine as our tongues twine and dance.

The room spins, your arms wrap tight around my shoulders and lets, and I have a split second of clarity. No one has ever kissed me dizzy.

Everything is still slowly spinning in time with our mouths. My hands move from your arms to your head and back again. I can't get enough of how you feel.

It all stops at once. The kissing, the spinning. We're frozen, staring at each other a little breathlessly. Our chemistry was good over the phone, but this feels explosive. A firework with a short fuse, dazzling, breathtaking, and then done.

It's just a weekend, I remind myself.

I realize I'm in your arms and we've moved to a different room. My mouth opens to ask the obvious question when you lean forward and let go.

I don't know what's more shocking: the cold water that soaks me from feet to just below my breasts, the impact of my tailbone hitting porcelain, or the fact that you just dropped me into a tub of water.

I launch myself out of the tub, hissing like a wet cat, and splashing gallons of water on your floor.

"What the fuck?"

Your voice is irritatingly calm and rational, despite the insane action of just a second ago. "I almost told you not to pack a bag. That's how often I want you wearing clothes this weekend, but I didn't want to scare you off before you got here. And," you add with a grin, "I did warn you."

I stand there sputtering and dripping and scowling at your outstretched hand, wanting nothing more than to tell you to go fuck yourself. Warning or not, I didn't think you'd actually drench me and take my bag so I couldn't wear clothes. That response might earn me a spanking... which doesn't dissuade me a bit.

But you keep talking, eyes never leaving mine, saving me a response... and a punishment, but I'm sure I'll earn one sooner or later. You walk backwards, just out of reach, your words reeling me in like a fish on a hook. I have no choice but to follow you out the door, down the hall, and into your living room, dripping water throughout your place. Serves you right.

"I stopped myself from shredding your clothes off your body the second you walked in, saving you from having to replace them. Now we can sit and talk as we are, or get naked."

I'm already freezing and my jeans will start chafing soon. I know I'm going to go through with this. I made it too far to back out now. Why put it off any longer?

In hindsight, maybe I should have tried to do a strip tease, but I'd never been much of a dancer and didn't want to embarrass myself. I think the quick, eager manner in which I shucked my clothes spoke more to my desire than some twerking hips ever could.

When I'm fully naked, I spin around slowly, letting you take a good look at my lean, smooth body, perky breasts, toned ass. With no clothes on, you can see how long my hair actually is, the tips brushing the tops of my ass. There's a long minute before you speak. "Look at that tight little body. Such a beautiful girl. Come closer."

I obey, walking over to you, not flinching when your big hands almost meet around my rib cage, thumbs flicking my nipples, earning another breathy moan.

Your mouth finds where my neck and shoulder meets, licking and sucking as you lay me back over the slightly rough fabric on the arm of your couch. Your other hand skims my body from shoulder to hip, chasing the gooseflesh away.

"Remember what I told you? What I'd ruin first?"

I remember your texts clearly and shiver both from the answer and from the low timbre of your voice. Mouth, ass, pussy. Another shiver runs through me as you spread my legs. I giggle at the squelch of lube being forced from the tube until your fingers trace the crease of my ass.

You hold up a medium-sized butt plug that kills my laughter, worry pooling in my gut. "This is nowhere near my size but it's a start. I'll swap these out until you're stretched and ready to take my cock up your ass."

Your words are a statement of fact, and you waste no time getting me ready, fingers tracing the crease between my cheeks. I clench, involuntarily, and your hand strokes my thigh until I relax, the other finger still brushing my hole.

"I know we talked about this baby, but I want to hear it from your mouth. Has anyone touched you here?"

Your fingers rim my ass, the first person to touch me there. My answer is a tortured moan. I can feel my own wetness sliding between my ass cheeks and force the words out. "No, sir."

"Shit," you breathe, eyes blazing with a possessive fire as they meet mine. "I'm going to wreck a nearly virgin pussy and a virgin asshole. I'm going to ruin you for any other cock."

I freeze, but it might be from the thick pressure of your fingers and not the fact that you just spoke my biggest fear. This might be a one time thing for you, but if you're as good as you claim, I may never want another cock. You can get tight pussy like mine anywhere. But a cock like yours, especially if you know how to use it, is rare.

I feel the slight burn and unbelievably erotic pressure of a blunt finger that's comfortably in my ass after a couple strokes, hitting a spot inside that has me writhing and moaning on your couch. Your other hand rests on my stomach, fingers spanning almost from one end of my torso to the other, the heel of your hand a cunt hair away from my needy clit and pinning my back to the arm of the couch.

There's more pressure that makes me hiss with the burn even as I try to relax and let you in.

"That's it," you coax as the pressure intensifies, "let me stretch that virgin hole before my cock destroys it."

Fuck fuck fuck. I whimper, bucking my hips, begging for more even as my body burns with the stretch as your fingers slowly scissor, stretching me farther apart.

"That's it, take my fingers in your ass, dirty girl."

"More, please," I beg, hips humping the air. The wetness leaking from my pussy is constant now, making your job easier, you fingers moving faster in my back hole. With every stroke, I'm pushed closer to orgasm, my hungry pussy clenching on air while my ass squeezes your fingers. I need more.

My hand goes for my clit, but you brush it aside. "I'll decide when and how you come, and I think an ass slut like you can come from just my fingers in your back hole."

I don't know if it's your words or the way your fingers twist and move inside my back channel but I'm close. I've never had an orgasm without touching my clit, but the slow back and forth glide of the plug, combined with the stretching burn has me close. When the widest flared edge of the plug breaches me and then my hole clenches around the narrower neck, I come with a low groan, clenching muscles shifting the plug deeper inside, prolonging the orgasm.

It doesn't satisfy me for long, though. When I can open my eyes to see your smug face, I know there's a whole lot more pleasure in store for me.

"How about you show me just how much you like that plug?"

I roll to my side, shuddering when the plug moves, and then sit, letting out a deep moan at the resulting pressure.

My cheeks clench when I stand and step aside, but aside from a little shifting with each movement, the plug stays put as I step aside and back, giving you room to move.

You drop your shorts without a word and your cock springs out, bobbing wildly in the air, jutting up and out, too heavy to stand straight up, alarmingly large.

My eyes are wide with equal parts awe, excitement, and terror. I'm sure it's a look you get a lot, but damn. You hadn't exaggerated a centimeter in either length or width.

"That thing needs a warning label," I breathe, trying to dispel my nervousness with a joke. "Contents under pressure. Handle with care."

"You don't have to be careful," you laugh. Your giant piece of prime fuckmeat bounces again as you sit back on the couch, legs spread in invitation. "Show me how much you want my cock, little slut, and I'll lick that sweet cream I can see running down your thighs."

That nickname has me wet and needy, ready to please you and you know it. It always drove me crazy on the phone. The plug shifts as I kneel between your outstretched legs, the motion making me jerk in surprise, groan at the new sensation, and catch myself on your thighs.

I slide my hands up and down your legs, enjoying the feel of firm muscle and warm skin, the clean scent of your skin making my mouth water.

Your cock is even bigger up close, and when I reach a tentative hand out to stroke you, my hand doesn't close completely around your girth. And side by side like this, you are close to the size of my forearm. What else were you telling the truth about?

I lean forward for my first taste, keeping my eyes locked on yours, breathing softly.

Your cock jumps under my warm breath, bringing your eyes to me instead of my mouth inching toward your cock. Only then does my tongue dart out for my first taste: mildly musky, but clean skin. Delicious.

My tongue works faster now without a conscious decision. While I want to do nothing more than to cram as much of your grade A fuck meat down my throat and worship it the way it deserves, I'm pretty sure even the most seasoned porn star would pause at your size and girth. I'll have to warm up to that.

I settle for working my tongue down your shaft, lapping at every inch as my enthusiasm grows. Fellatio usually isn't so enjoyable for me; most men have a sour, too salty taste that makes me try to finish them off as quickly as possible and get on to better things.

Not you, though.

Maybe it's because of the bone deep desire to please you. Your alpha male tendencies do something to my fiercely stubborn and independent character, make me a little more pliant.

Maybe it's because I know this is more than likely a once in a lifetime opportunity and I want to make it memorable for both of us. Either way, I'm taking my time with this to enjoy every second.

My tongue is getting tired by the time I reach the root of your cock, but you're nice and slick, which will hopefully help me swallow you. I eye the flared tip of your cock, lick my lips, and hope my jaw stretches that wide. Nothing kills the mood faster than an unintentional bite.

Holy hell you're a mouthful. My jaw is stretched as wide as it can go and straining to open further and the head of your cock is barely past my teeth, completely filling my mouth.

Your hips jerk reflexively, sending your cock to the back of my mouth, my tongue pressed firmly to the sensitive underside of your shaft. I hear you hiss and shift again. My mouth is so full, your cock seated just in front of my throat. There's a small sense of accomplishment, but it's quickly being overtaken by panic, when I feel your large hand rest on the back of my head.

I jerk back as both hands grab your cock, choking up on it like I'm about to hit a home run, and limiting the way you can move.

"You can take some more. Keep going." There's a gentle pressure as I cautiously sink back down, stopping just before you hit my throat. I can feel my gag reflex telling me to go no further, but you didn't get that memo. One quick jerk and you're past it and into my throat.

I feel my body trying to gag, trying to dislodge the obstruction in my throat, but the thick head of your cock is too big. I can't gag, which is an unexpected benefit, but I also can't breathe, and I'm starting to panic. What if you get stuck?

I wriggle and jerk, trying to dislodge your hand from my hair, your cock from my throat, make any sort of sound to get you to let me up. My mouth tightens, tongue moving, but all you do is groan. I'm getting dizzy from lack of oxygen and as a last ditch effort, I tap on your thigh three times, looking at you through bleary eyes, your eyes closed in bliss.

They open immediately and your hand falls away, letting me spit you out and gasp down some much needed oxygen, drool hanging from my lips.

"Sorry, you swallowed my cock like a pro. I got distracted for a second. Are you sure you haven't done this before?" You give me a sheepish smile.

"I-" I croak, swallow, feeling my sore throat protest, and try talking again. "I literally can't gag. I've never swallowed a cock that far without gagging before. I didn't expect that."

Your face is serious. "Do you want to stop?"

I reach for your cock again, stroking it while taking a few more deep breaths. "Hell no, just let me breathe every once in a while."

Your chuckle turns into another groan as I swallow you again with more confidence than the first time. I keep my strokes shallow, focusing on your head and that sensitive spot right behind it, licking and suck hard, working my hands in sync with my mouth. I'm rewarded with my first taste of precum, salty and clean, like swallowing ocean water.

My tongue goes for your slit, looking for more and getting it, muscles working as I swallow with an appreciative moan.

"Fuck, just like that," you rumble above me.

A jolt of lust runs through me and I double my efforts, wanting to hear you keep making those tortured noises. For the first time in our encounters, I have you breathless and moaning, when it's usually the other way around. You always stayed cool and in control while I begged and moaned for release. Now it's my turn.

Knowing I literally cannot gag helps me relax. I don't have to worry about not being able to please you this way, and I really start to get into it, alternating between short, quick thrusts, using my tongue and sucking hard, with long, deep thrusts. I swallow and moan, doing my best to make you come.

"Fuck! You're a cock hungry slut, aren't you?"

I whimper and nod, and suddenly, the pressure focused on my clit is too much. I have to come. Now.

One hand keeps working your cock while the other tweaks first one nipple and then the other, the short bites of pain and the quick, deep thrusts of your hips driving me toward a second orgasm.

My hand rubs down between my breasts to my pussy but your words stop me before I can touch my needy clit.

"No. I make you come." You grab my hair and pull your cock out of my mouth making me whine in protest. "Greedy slut, climb up here and we'll make each other come. It's about time I get a taste of that little pussy."

You've barely swung your legs up on the couch and laid against the arm rest before I climb onto your chest, facing your feet, my arms braced on your thighs. My mouth just starts to swallow you again when your hands grab my hips, lifting and readjusting me. I lose my balance and fall deeper onto your cock, deeper than I'd swallowed it before.

I backed up quickly, shifting off your cock. Something warm touches my pussy. I try to jerk in surprise, but your big hands keep me in place, your tongue swiping through my pussy and circling around my clit. And then it's gone.

I whine, backing up a little more. Instead of feeling your mouth, your hand slaps my ass. I yelp in surprise and your grip on my hip tightens. "If you stop sucking, so do I. Understand?"

Instead of answering, I get back to it but your grip doesn't loosen and I don't feel your tongue on me. There's pressure on my asshole again and I moan around a mouthful of dick.

You work it slowly out of me the pressure not nearly as intense this time, just more intense pressure. I take you deep and suck hard as the plug pops out, making you jerk.

I almost stop and ask the obvious when I feel the plug back in my ass until I feel the stretch. It's a new plug. A much bigger plug. The stretch is incredible. I moan and suck harder, letting you know without words how much I'm enjoying myself.

This plug, despite the stretch, seems to slide in smoother. The feeling is incredible, especially now that I'm full at both ends, stuck between you no matter which way I move.

By the time your mouth touches my pussy again, I'm on edge, my body shaking with the need to come. I haven't taken my mouth off you, just kept sucking, as fast and deep as I can, needing to taste you. And judging from the way you've just swelled up in my mouth, how your tongue is fucking my pussy, your chin rocking across my clit in just the right way, all thoughts of drawing this out have evaporated in our mutual need for release.

I come first, with your lips sealed around my clit, and it's my long moan that sets you off deep in my throat. I swallow, prolonging the orgasm for you. I'm dizzy from the orgasm and lack of air. I back off, my thighs shaking with aftershocks and let you fall from my mouth. You're still hard, and another jet of come shoots out, hitting me in the face, coating my cheek and dripping onto my chest.

I'm breathing hard and shaking but I make sure you see me scoop your come up and eat it, not wanting to waste a drop.

We lay there in silence for a few minutes, just breathing. I'm watching your cock out of the corner of my eye, waiting for it to deflate, shrink, grow soft, but there's no change. You're just as swollen and hard as you were a half hour ago.

Your hand rubs my spine and I curl into it like a cat. "Ready for round two?"