Fucking Gray is so much fun.

I never expect sex with him, even though it is a part of our dynamic, and, when we have it, the act is consistently amazing.

I find that entering any scenario with little expectation yields the best possible results. And thus I’ve translated this mindset to the vast majority of my life, including my kinky fun times.

At the Carolina Grue, I had no other expectation than to get to hang out with Gray for a bit, possibly a meal or two, enjoying his company and nothing more. We had planned to play, but Grue’s are intense experiences. I know from past crashes that one cannot bank on having any energy after a day of expending it all.

Yet we did play, and damn if we didn’t have a fucking awesome go of it. I suppose we were due. We hadn’t seen each other in about six months.

Yet still, what seemed like twenty minutes to me was actually an hour of cigar play, a bit of mean rope, cocksucking, and fucking me over a table which happened to be covered in flowers. I am not a romantic person, but a small part of me hopes the scent sense memory of that fuck sticks around. Its usefulness could end up being immeasurable.

As for this past weekend at the Grue Pitt 4, I knew I was going to spend a great deal of time with Gray. I was actually a bit giddy at the prospect. We crashed in what I have dubbed the kinky commune: the home of two good friends who have a tendency to house awesome kinksters when they are in town.

Gray and I pre-arranged to share a bed, which I presumed meant cuddles and nothing more. Friday night, us both stripped down to nothing (the usual way we rest together), I again found my head on his chest and his arms around me.

What from others is a grope, Gray turns into a comforting embrace. As he fondled my breast, I still considered this cuddling. My breasts serve little other purpose at the moment than to be the playthings of those I allow to touch them. I happened to say this to Gray.

I think this is when the cuddling took a turn.

He gripped my breast harder, sinking his fingers deeper into my flesh. My breathing changed. He got meaner still, attacking the nipple. He switched to my other breast, treating it much the same. Delicious pain and pleasure swelled. He reached his free hand down and rubbed my clit. I gasped, but tried to keep my sounds low. There were, after all, others in the house trying to sleep.

My modesty didn’t last much longer. He sunk his fingers into my pussy. My breath grew ragged.

“No. Not yet.” He answered the question my body was begging to ask.

I turned my head into the pillow to try to quiet my breath and slid a hand down to massage his cock. Instead, he pushed my head down into his crotch.

I took him into my mouth. He pulled my legs over his chest. He nipped at my thighs. I yelped, but settled back onto his lips. I sucked his cock and balls while fingering his asshole as he ate me out like no other.

I asked him after how he did it. How did he eat me out? What was his technique?

“I don’t know. I just eat you out.”

I was sorely disappointed in his answer, but so very overjoyed in his skill.

When Gray eats me out, the orgasms are plentiful and overwhelming. He has one rule for me: I have ongoing permission to cum when he eats me out so long as his cock is down my throat. I gagged to my heart’s content as wave after sultry wave crested across my pelvis and down my legs.

Gray, by far, gives me the best cunnilingus I have ever had.

At one point, I was riding his face while lapping up his balls and fucking his cock with my breasts. He came on my chest and his abdomen, but he didn’t stop eating me out. And fuck, I didn’t want him to ever stop. As his orgasm had grown and gone, mine had swelled, fell, and swelled again. I licked up his cum as I rode his face and knew there was no other fuck I wanted to ever have more than the one I was having.

And we weren’t done yet.

He ate me still longer as I continued to suck his cock. He then pivoted us to the side. With his cock still in my mouth, because I wanted it no place other, his fingers found my pussy again. He pushed. I sat onto his hand. And then his fist was inside of me. I almost felt spoiled at how much fucking we were having in just one night.

Almost.

I came again, clamping down on his hand. Gray likes that sensation, the feel of my very hungry pussy not ever wanting to let him go.

Okay, maybe I am just a little bit spoiled. But fuck, with sex like that, who wouldn’t be?

Categorised as: Gray | Grue | Sex

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