He’d been so damn persistent the last few weeks. I couldn’t figure out why. I mean, we had some fun adventures, but it wasn’t like I was the first pick of the litter. But that was over a year ago, before I met the Jerk, and became, like, ridiculously boring.
For those of my lovely kinksters out there who have read my mishaps for a while now, you’ll remember him. Mr. Breakfast. The deliciously smooth, amazingly talented old friend of mine. He must crave being a feature story on the blog – even if he doesn’t know about it ;)
Mind you, I haven’t talked to Mr. Breakfast for quite some time. I made the mistake of thinking I could maneuver my way towards a relationship. Thank God I was cured, and quickly. I’ve felt like a new-born four legged creature in the months of late, my sexual confidence reawakening, but on four supports held together with spindly bones, and wobbly knees. Shaky, at best; a disaster, if needing to do anything remotely functional.
His name flashed across my phone screen about a week ago. I had to look at it twice to be sure. What in the world? It goes to show how out of whack I’ve been that I couldn’t imagine why he was texting me -_- He simply asked how I was, and after a brief moment of small talk, asked if I would meet him for a drink later that night. Just as I was imagining the beginnings of a deliciously sinful night, he added, “JUST a drink :)” Well, that was a lady boner killer, if there ever was one. My shy, timid, doe-eyed inner slut retreated back into her shell, and we prepared ourselves for a simple drink.
He was easy to spot. Tall, handsome, with a drool-worthy smile, and smoking hot eyes. My inner slut took a peep out the door. We hugged as we greeted each other, and his hand lingered on my back. His lips grazed across my lower lip. Yummy. He ordered our drinks, and we chatted for a minute. He was annoyingly well behaved. I was sure there was something wrong with me now. Maybe I was broken, no longer able to spark an interest in the opposite sex. God forbid. My whiskey sour sank lower and lower into the glass, and I had given up all hope. This was just a casual drink between friends, apparently with no thoughts of sex… for him, at least. My inner slut had him half naked already.
We left the bar, and he walked me to my car. I was already planning my evening alone, complete with my small vibrator and my imagination. What a let down. I turned to thank him for the drink, and his mouth was on mine immediately. God, I’d missed kissing. I mean really kissing. Full, intense, almost painful, with a lack of oxygen, and lust fueling every motion at full throttle. That’s how it was with Mr. Breakfast. His lips were crushing mine, and one hand already had my skirt hiked up, searching for it’s target. When he found it, I gasped. I had craved this for ages. I laughed as he kissed down my neck, while his finger teased my clit. I told him this was more than the just a drink that he had promised. “Yes,” he said, “We did have just a drink. I never said there was going to be just a goodbye. My inner slut was back out of the shell again, but wasn’t sure if she should run back to safety, or start dancing to the rhythm. “Just dance!!!” I wanted this, she had to bring her game.
It was short drive back to my place, but it seemed like eternity. His fingers kept darting between my thighs, and I had to remind him to drive. We barely made it through the door. My shirt was off in seconds, and the rest of our clothes followed. His hand on my throat, he pushed me against the wall, and bit my upper lip. His cock was upright, and the tip glistened with precum. He released my throat as I dropped to my knees. His cock slid into the back of my throat, and out again. He kept thrusting against my face, slowly at first to help me adjust, and then increasing his pace. Soon, his cock was ramming my mouth, with the sounds of my gagging, and a little saliva slipping away down my chin. I could feel his cock swelling, and wanted to feel his hot cum flood my mouth. My fingers pushed against my clit, inching me towards an amazing orgasm. I gasped while he face fucked me, ready to welcome my own waves of pleasure, and he suddenly pulled out. I was about to complain that he was preventing an orgasm to remember, but he spun me around just as quickly, and pinch my clit as his cock entered me. I saw stars. Literally. Stars darted in and out of my vision, as wave after wave of my orgasm coursed through me. He groaned, and dug his nails into my lower back, and I smiled as his warm load empty into my freshly fucked pussy. His hand slid around my throat, and he pulled me back against him. “Well, I’ve certainly missed my little whore.”
This is only part 1 of that night. Part 2 will follow shortly! XOXOXO