My throat is sore.
My good karma must currently be off the charts. By some miracle, my work for this Saturday shrunk, and I found myself with a night off which I spent with the Gent at his place.
I arrived at 7pm. At 1am, he said it was time for me to go, explicitly waiting (without telling me) for an extra fifteen minutes because he dislikes my quarter hour distinctions. I then pointed out the flaw in his plan: I was naked and also needed to pack a few things. He dropped me off at my car at 1:15am, quarter hour added anyway.
I had his cock in my mouth tonight. It was delightful. He pushed me, trying to get me to deep throat him, softly encouraging my efforts. I sunk him in further than I had anyone else to date. I want to learn to deep throat, or, more accurately, I want to be able to control my gag reflex. I want to decide when and if I gag. I’m sure I’ll be getting plenty of practice from my friends in the near future.
Only once during the night did I feel my dominance really manifest. I’m not sure how long I worked on his cock, but at a certain point he stopped me and got me to instead go back to working on his chest. I had previously kissed, caressed, and lightly bite his nipples.
However, after his request for me to scratch him while I worked on his cock, I took the leap that he liked pain. I bit, hard, and gripped the muscles of his back, sinking in my finger nails. This seemed to do the trick. He began biting my neck, jerking himself harder, and he soon came.
I was very submissive tonight, spending most of my time in some manner of undress and often the person initiating physical contact. He intentionally did not touch me til he saw fit to start playing.
One memorable moment was towards the beginning. He wanted me to masturbate to a cum. If you read some of my previous blogs, you will learn this is difficult for me. I often need ‘assistance’, either in the form of someone else’s hand or something plugged into a wall. He was insistent. He felt I could do it. Hearing him say this got me hornier.
I was slow to start. He, of course, wanted to watch. He had me lie so he could see my hands at work. I asked if he was allowed to help me. He said he wouldn’t touch me. That wasn’t the kind of help I had in mind.
His voice is sexy. I can’t nail down the specific quality, other than to say it isn’t about bass or tone, but more the attitude. His quiet confidence comes across even in his speech.
I asked him to not stop talking; it didn’t matter what he spoke about. I actually can’t remember what he spoke about as I fingered my clit. By the time I finally reached my hand down, after having switched my hips for some minutes and listening to him, I was beyond wet. We, thankfully, had set a towel down on his sofa as a precaution.
As I began to masturbate, with his voice in my ear, I knew it would not be long before I asked for permission. He, however, made me wait; he wanted me to suffer a little. When he finally gave his consent, I thanked him and yelled my usual obscenities as my body rolled around on his couch. I loved doing this for him, cuming for him.
I came for him many more times tonight. Twice more as I fingered myself. About a half dozen times while bent over his couch, his fingers in my pussy, his free hand spanking me. And a few rolling orgasms as I gave him head while he fingered me.
I was curious if I would have been able to cum just from his asking, whispering, commanding it into my ear. He believed I could’ve tonight; I was that turned on. But he wanted to wait. He wanted to make me cum with his voice when he wanted. For being a novice, he sometimes shocks me with his spot on answers.
We talked, a lot, again. I got the ten cent tour of his home, which is way cleaner than any home I’ve ever lived in. There was cold pizza, yoga demos, and a three minute meditation experiment.
His clothes didn’t come off til right before his dick came out. I tried to kiss him all night; we still haven’t. And his penis did not enter any of my orifices, save my mouth.
All-in-all, it was a randomly fun night.
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