Thursday, July 30, 2009

Somewhere in America, Part II

Continued from Part I.

As I'm rubbing her back, her body is completely melting at my touch. A Chicago blogger I met told me that my stories of women might be getting boring because I tend to do the same thing to women, but it's not true at all. When I first investigate a woman's body, I touch her EVERYWHERE, looking for the spots she needs touched the most. Is it my fault that practically every woman, regardless of the number of lovers they've had, tend to have the same spots ignored?

Anyone (including the woman) can go for nipples and the clit, but only the rare bloke goes after every spot. Sometimes it's the back of the knee, sometimes its the small of the back. I've found scalps can be comforting or erotic, feet can be ticklish or orgasmic. That blogger who made that comment hasn't had my touch, so it's easy to say "meh" when all I've heard, time and again, is "oooooh" or "oh my god don't stop that ever." This blogger in my hands has read me, and she knows my style, and she still melted because I found her body's forgotten areas.

I'm not pressing her for anything, but I've wanted to touch a woman for months. My one real opportunity never happened (yet) because of her schedule and my schedule. So here I am, with this knock-out who was beaming over me in 3" heels (not that much taller, but taller), caressing her shoulders and arms and the upper portion of her back.

I know when a woman is comfortable, and this gal was in full-on bliss. She could pretend to know how I handle women my words, but now she knows the truth: her body is unique, just as everyone's is, and everyone has needs that have gone unfulfilled for far too long.

Eventually, we leave the near-spoon position and she rolls onto her belly. I hike the bottom of her skin-tight red cami top up to her bra strap, and start looking for ticklish spots. There, and there. She doesn't laugh or jump, I know how to find the spots to avoid. The rest of her back? Goose-fucking-bumps. When her hips were grinding into the king-sized bed, I knew my resolve was out the window.

So here I am with this tall, slim-yet-curvy, bronzed like a Maxim beach cover gal who is growing goosebumps bigger than the volcanoes that dot practically every Latin America country. What happens next? I turn her head and she kisses me. No, not a nice little Sane lady kiss but she tears my face off.

Another new blogger I email told me that her biggest turn off with guys is that they're bad kissers, or they jump the gun. Let me tell you, ladies and gentlemen, that this gal is NOT the type to just destroy a man's face, but I have a pretty good feeling that everything I was doing (or not doing) created this urge to annihilate my lips, tongue, facial scruff and possibly the neighbor's room in one fell swoop.

My fingers were still barely touching her back and shoulders, arms and hands, and our mouths were battling. Soft kissing, teeth clanking, tongues appearing and disappearing, moans and groans. I held her hands back so she couldn't touch me and before I know it, she takes her own shirt off. I'm not sure exactly how we were kissing with her on her belly and my belly on her back, but the next thing I know is her gorgeous ass grinding up against my cock which is on the edge of becoming GOD'S PENIS and causing us all problems (including you, fair reader).

I need to fuck this young woman, but she needs to be taught a lesson. I'm strong and weak, the sun is shining in the window in this early afternoon just hours after we met for the first time, but I know what I have to do. I have to break her into tiny little pieces so I can fuck each one separately and repeatedly until they melt back together.

I keep looking at her gorgeous face, these eyes that penetrate my mind stronger than I could penetrate her pussy on 100mg of Viagra. Yet every time I look at her, she destroys my face with the see-saw of hot, wet kisses and soft, tiny, sensual kisses. Who the fuck is teasing whom?

At some point, one of us gets her to flip over, straddling me from beneath. My cock is on her pubic mound and she's grinding, moaning, enveloping me with her latin lips and her Spanish/Andalusian eyes. My hands are still fighting the urge to tear her clothes off, dancing their light tune on her skin, still bringing forth strong goosebumps worthy of many photographs.

I unbutton my dress-shirt and lay my hairy chest on her bareback. She moans. I pull back and then put my chest on her again, a louder moan. Holy mother of gumbo, she's that sensitive on her back. I wonder if her not-even-a-handful of previous lovers had any clue.

And then we flip, me on my back, her straddling my cock with her jeans warmed by what is obviously a pussy that needs immediately attention. We're kissing and the next thing I know, I feel tits on my chest, and not the feel of her black satin bra. My hands trace up from her still-covered thighs to her sides up past her surprisingly large and soft tits, ending up on her shoulder.

I use my nails (not long but not short) to dig into the bottom of her back, and forcefully tear them up her back, bringing forth a moan/groan that sounds different in Spanish than it would in English. I'm in real trouble here, folks.

And still she kisses me, taking in every nerve ending on my tongue and my lips and my face, while my nails dig, my fists massage, my fingers push and dance on her back. Latin lovers have always ruined me for the Gringo ladies, I just forget when I don't have one in my life.

I can't tolerate her pussy grinding on my cock still hidden in my jeans, so we roll over again. "I'm so wet" she tells me, not having to as I can smell her pussy through panties and jeans. I stare at her eyes and she asks if I want to check if she's right. I know she is, and I really don't want to rush it, but this gal is going to explode and I don't have enough towels to clean it up.

I make my way down her chest, skipping her nipples as usual and kissing softly down her stomach, which is gaining goosebumps. I decide to throw her off and plant a soft kiss on the one section I know is too ticklish. She laughs, but she doesn't break her stride as it turns into a moan as I venture lower.

Her belly is cute: tight, flat, solid, but still feminine. I could spend hours on it (and I probably will if she decides to visit me again). I make my way down to the edge of her jeans and pull them down slightly, still fully buttoned and zipped. Her panties, white and black, are obviously soaking in her lube, so I kiss past their edge to the start of her nicely trimmed and perfect pubic hair.

She can't stand it, and I can't stand it either. I kneel between her legs, unbutton and unzip her jeans, place each hand to one side of her jeans just below her hips and tear them off. Clean in 10 seconds. I wanted her to remove them, but I don't think she was thinking clearly.

Now her jeans are off, so I snuggle up against her pussy, covered by her thin black-and-white panties. They're soaked straight through, but I lightly kiss her thighs without tickling, run my big schnoz across her covered clit "accidentally" eliciting an awesome moan, and kiss around her panties in every part of skin imaginable.

She's done for, and now I can do what I want. If I wanted to fuck her in her pussy, she'd have come instantly. I could have fucked her in the ass and she'd probably still come. I might be making this story sound like I had her fully under control, but I think the reality is that she had me mesmerized. I want to hear this polyglot come, wondering what language it'll come out as.

The panties come off and are thrown over the bed. Her pussy is gorgeous. I force her thighs wider, and her pussy lips are fully engorged and spread, her large clit is visibly throbbing, and she's soaked. The sun is still out, and it is causing her to glisten like the frothy head of a bottle of blow-bubbles.

No teasing is needed at this point, but I lick her full pussy lips and bring them farther apart magically. I lick her pubic hair above her clit, lick the inside of her pussy lips listening to her moan, feeling her sopping wet ocean of lust pressing against my face for me.

Her hands are on my head, pulling me in, so I go for it. My tongue hits her clit and she's grunting, her back is arching, she's practically begging.

I don't let off, I don't go easy. She's beyond the point of any foreplay doing anything other than causing her to pull my hair out if I don't swallow her load in the next 30 seconds.

I misunderstand her say "STOP!" while I'm swallowing drops of her lube as its pouring out, so I back off. She grabs my hair, hard, and pulls me back. "I said DON'T STOP" she quietly yells, so I dig back in, impressed by how good she tastes, and pleased that her big clit is even bigger as I pull it between my lips.

And that's that... "I'm going to come" she says, and a few moments later, she does. I don't let off, tickling and sucking and pushing against her clit as waves of orgasm fuck through her body. My face is SOAKED, my beard is wet, her thighs are clenching and releasing my head, her hands are all over the bed. She keeps coming, I keep prodding to try to get every last ounce of come out of her and into my awaiting mouth.

Finally, she's done. She softly pushes my mouth from her pussy, and out of nowhere grabs my head, bends over and puts her mouth on my mouth, on her own come. "Mmmmm, your face is covered in come," she says.

To be continued in Part III.

3 comments:

Kali said...

....And this is why I could never screw anybody with a beard...

I feel queasy now. Glad you had a good time though! Sounds like you needed it!

Andy said...

Okay, I'm saying it straight already. Would you cut it with the parted posts? Make only one and I promise to read it from the beginning to the end, no peaking. Yes, please?

Sandra said...

The "I'm so wet" comment was just a trick, just so you know. I wanted you to take a peek. And it just worked perfectly.

Good times, Sane. GOOD times. Haha