Three on a Date

When I returned, he had turned on his back, and as before, I had the urge to come down between his spread legs and take his cock into my mouth. "Fuck it," I said. Tonight would be a little bit different. There was no reason not to try to break this out of its routine. Fraser was quite attractive and sexy enough—especially in the semidark—and he had that impossibly long cock. He was worth the effort.

I came down between his thighs, slid my mouth down the length of his cock as I glided my hands up to this nipples, and started to suck. He responded to me. Moaning even before he came awake. Reaching down and guiding my head as I gave him deep head. Groaning and moving his hips in the rhythm of the fuck.

I rose up his body, saddled myself on his cock, and rode him as he grew thicker, longer, harder inside me and started to buck back. He was groaning and telling me how good it was, luxuriating in the exotic—for him—fuck until he couldn't take any more. With a roar, he pushed me off him, ran an arm under my stomach, lifted me up, pushed his knees under my buttocks, and snaked his cock back up into me, while, being supported by his arm encircling my waist, I cantilevered backward, arms dangling at my sides and head thrown back, concentrating all of my sensations on the cock thrusting again and again up into my passage and his hand fisting and stroking my cock. Seeking, working toward, a found mutual ejaculation.

Afterward, embracing me from behind, he declared what a surprisingly good fuck that was and how aroused he was by the variety of it. Could we fuck like that more often?

I assured him that we certainly could, myself fully satisfied with him for the first time and looking forward to progress in that direction.

He leaned his lips to my ear and whispered, "We've never done it before, but what I really would like now—"

"Yes you can fuck me again," I answered, turning my face away from him so that he couldn't see my wide grin.