Submitted
Stories from Women
I wasn't expecting a response when in a sleep-deprived state I sent an email to
Max complimenting him on his personal ad -- he was in a different
state and way out of my league, frankly. His face was gorgeous - the picture he
had up was professional (from his portfolio it turns out) and it certainly
showed him in a good light. His smile was mischievous but relaxed, his long hair
tumbled down over his shoulders, he had dimples, a goatee, deliciously lush
lips, and you could almost make out the tattoo on his upper arm. He was much
like the kind of guy I'd put together if I were building a guy from scratch.
His ad was much like his smile - engaging and completely charming, and although
I'd just been browsing personals posted by asian guys for entertainment (I like
my eye candy) I sent off a note and didn't give it another thought.Until I got a
note back from him that was just as charming as his ad. One email led to
another, and in short order we were chatting on the phone. I don't love the
phone in general, but Max was delightful, our sexual tastes sounded similar and
we spent several late nights talking and flirting while he was housesitting.
When he said he wanted to come down to play, I was torn. He could be the
handsome, enchanting guy he seemed to be, or he could be an axe murderer. After
thinking about it for a little while and discussing safety precautions, I said
yes.
Nervous doesn't begin to describe how I felt - thoroughly freaked out comes
closer. He was driving, and the night before I couldn't sleep at all. He was
even cuter than his pictures had been - his hair was much longer too, and his
grin went straight through me. We had joked about overcoming nervousness by just
starting in on each other the moment we met, and it turns out that our first
kiss was in the parking lot, before he'd even gotten his bag out of his
suv.
He asked me if I was nervous, and I can't even remember if I said yes outloud or
just nodded like a mute idiot, but he smiled, wrapped his arms around me
and pressed those lush lips of his against mine. He tasted like cinnamon altoids,
and *really* knew how to kiss. After a few minutes I came back to earth and
remembered we were still in the parking lot - it was the middle of the day and
while most people were at work it was still in front of where I lived, so we
went inside. He dropped his bag on the floor and started kissing me again, those
yummy, almost fighting for control kinds of kisses, with our hands tangled in
each other's hair.
Max knew ahead of time about my fixation. He didn't completely believe it ahead
of time - apparently lots of women say they truly enjoy sucking cock,
but don't. I do. (We had discussed testing on the phone, and he had
actually brought the paperwork from his screening with him so that I'd feel
safe.) Our hands had been wandering, and I was thrilled to feel how hard
his cock was inside his jeans - he was like iron. He took his shirt off and
while he untied his hair from his ponytail, I drank in the sight of him.
Artistically speaking it was a beautiful scene; the contrast of his black hair
and jeans
against the warm tones of his skin, all against the red backdrop of my
livingroom. Physically speaking it made me wet and my knees weak. We kissed
again, and I pushed him down into my couch and knelt between his legs. I looked
up at him, watching his face while I tugged open his pants, and
then my attention was drawn like a moth to a flame by his cock.
I'd seen pictures of it - he had a digital camera and a couple of times had
responded to my requests for eye candy (I was fascinated with his cock
and his long hair) - but it really was beautiful. He was uncut, and only the
second uncut cock I'd ever seen in my life. The first one I was about to put
my lips on. After a few curious strokes, watching his foreskin cover and reveal
the swollen head of his cock, I touched my tongue to it and licked slowly,
tasting him. I slid my lips over the head of his cock and swirled my tongue in a
circle, and then back and forth against the place where his foreskin attached to
the head. I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and followed my lips
with my fingers, stroking and sucking at the same time. He was making little
happy noises while stroking my hair and face, and I could feel my pussy getting
really wet.
There was a part of my brain that yelled at me for a minute about being so
promiscuous, I mean, in all honesty it was amazingly slutty to have known a
guy for less than half an hour and have his dick in my mouth, but even that
turned me on. It was easy to lose myself completely in what I was doing, to
fall into a rhythmic motion and focus on the sensation of my tongue caressing
the warm tight skin of his cock. Either it felt good or I lost track of time
because it didn't seem to take very long before I felt his balls tighten up
under my fingers. I started to slow down a little bit to make it last, but he'd
boasted
about his ability to come more than the average guy, so I covered my teeth
with my lips and bobbed my head faster, trying to keep pressure and firm suction
- which he'd said he preferred - on his cock. It wasn't as easy at it sounded,
and it made truly obscene slurping sounds which seemed to get him even hotter. I
had one hand wrapped at the base of his cock with my palm cupping his balls, and
with the other I rubbed underneath in a close rhythm
with my mouth. I felt his cock really start throbbing against my tongue and in
seconds he was coming. He lifted his ass off the couch and his hands wrapped
tighter in my hair, groaned loud and came *hard* - I'd never felt a guy come so
strong, or taste sweet like he did.
I kept his cock in my mouth until he started to go soft, then sat back and
grinned back at him; my panties were soaked. He'd told me he wasn't going to
jack off for a couple of days before he came down, and now I knew firsthand what
effect that had. I really loved sucking Max's cock, and he was certainly true to
his word about being able to come more than once.
The weekend was wonderful -- in addition to lots of oral and
some hard-and-fast fucking, he let me paint on him despite him being ticklish,
jacked off for me as often as I wanted to see it, and was happy to let me wake
him up in the morning with my mouth on his cock. We stopped keeping count of how
many times he came - when it was time for him to leave a few days later he'd
come more times than ever before. The insides of my lips were worn raw but we'd
both had a fabulous time, and I was really glad I'd had insomnia the night I
first wrote him.
Rachel L
Submitted Story 2
Submitted Story 3
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