Page 41 of S is for SEX

“It doesn’t bother you?” I asked.

His cock twitched. “Not at all.”

“It kind of turns me on,” I whispered.

His mouth curled into a mischievous grin. “Me, too.”

Without so much as a moment’s thought, I reached for his rigid shaft. After a few light strokes with my cupped hand, I guided him into my mouth. The thought of the production crew intently watching while I gave him a blowjob fueled me to perform at the peak of my dick-sucking ability.

Sixty seconds later, and he was as hard as a diamond. Everything – his cock in my mouth, his muscular physique, and the thought of being watched by a room full of men – had me soaked beyond comprehension.

I worked my mouth up and down his swollen shaft, exercising caution and care with each stroke. His moans of pleasure that followed left little to the imagination regarding his satisfaction, and I eagerly continued.

His moaning increased. After a moment, without warning, he pulled himself from my mouth. I gazed up, more than willing to suck him to completion, but also hoping that our first encounter would be fractionally more satisfying for us both.

His chin raised slightly. “Stand up.”

I wiped the back of my hand past my lips and complied with his request. Now standing directly in front of him, my eyes nervously danced around the room. It was apparent the kissing and groping that often came with relationship-based sex wasn’t going to happen.

We were simply two people who were satisfying our sexual desires.

In short, we were fucking.

And, even though I really, really liked to be kissed, I decided I was fine with that.

He motioned toward the bed. “Turn around.”

I eagerly did as he asked, fully prepared for whatever was next. After waiting a few long seconds, I glanced over my shoulder, only to find him stretching a condom over his throbbing cock.

An inaudible sigh escaped me as I turned toward the bed.

He leaned into me and pressed his mouth to my ear. “Looking for Mr. Compatibility, huh?”

His muscular torso pressed against my back caused my legs to go weak. His warm breath against my ear did the rest. I all but collapsed onto the bed. With my boobs down and my ass up, I was his for the taking.

I felt his cock dancing between the insides of my thighs.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked.

I raised my head slightly and widened my stance. “Uh huh.”

Before another word was spoken, he guided himself into me.

“Holy--” It felt as if I was being impaled. I inhaled a choppy breath. “--Shit.”

My eyes shot wide. He pushed himself a few inches deeper. I blinked repeatedly and tried to retain my wits, but his massive girth was far more than I was accustomed to. It was, however, exactly what I dreamed I would one day experience.

Following several half-hearted strokes, he began to fit me like a glove. With my hips in his hands and my face buried in the comforter, he began to fuck me like he was trying to teach me a lesson.

All without speaking a word.

I found it odd that he didn’t say anything during our sexual romp. The sound of his hips slapping against my ass filled the room, and his thick cock stretched me to an entirely new limit…

But I wanted more.

I yearned to have him talk to me. Even if it was a line of mad shit, telling me I was a cock-loving floozy. Anything.

Yet. Nothing came.

And, that lack of communication became a mood killer. All but on the verge of an earth-shattering orgasm, I lost whatever interest I had in finding sexual relief. He continued to pound himself into me while I remained smashed against the end of the bed with my head buried in the comforter.

A bellow filled the silent room – an announcement of his approaching climax. I feigned equal excitement, and gave my best performance at faking an orgasm. I couldn’t tell if he believed me- because he didn’t say anything.

He collapsed at my side, his muscular body tense and covered in sweat.

I wasn’t angry, nor was I dissatisfied with him.

However.

I studied his smiling face and slowly filled with regret.

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