Going Down

Sometime last year a friend from mine was held overnight at the hospital for monitoring (no worries she was just fine) and I went to visit her. She will hence forth be known as Bright Eyes. Bright eyes’ friends and family all live out of town and I was one of few people who could actually come keep her company. This story isn’t going where you think it is. I didn’t have sex with a girl in an adjustable hospital bed and get kinky with a stethoscope or defibrillator. This story is about a mutual friend of ours, we’ll call this one Rocker. Rocker is about 5’6 with dark hair often streaked with wild colors, a thin frame, and a fair amount of tattoos.  After a little over an hour of visiting Bright Eyes we were surprised when Rocker came to visit as well. The three of us talked and were allowed to walk around the hospital until nurses came and insisted that we allow Bright Eyes to get some rest. As we left I asked Rocker if she’d like to grab a bite at the hospital cafeteria. Rocker and I already had a sexual history so it didn’t take long before we found ourselves flirting and prolonging our exit. Finally she took the initiative before I did.

Rocker: How about we get out of here and find a place we can be alone for a bit?

Me: My place is no good right now, but I’m sure we can find somewhere.

Rocker: I don’t have long; your car is perfectly fine with me.

Me: Let’s go then.

I’m not one to make awkward small talk while waiting to have sex. Rocker isn’t either, though she does tend to start talking really dirty in anticipation. She was quiet this time, walking excitedly down the hospital hallways on our way to the parking garage. We got to the elevator on the first floor and as soon as the doors closed Rocker smiled a devilish smile.

Rocker: I’ve always wanted to have sex in an elevator

Me: The movies exaggerate how much time you get before the doors open. It’s really like 15 seconds.

 Rocker: Well that’s no good. It’s a shame though, sounded like a fun idea.

 Not to let the opportunity pass me by, I pressed the button to the top floor, well beyond the 2nd floor we had both parked on. The elevator still stopped on the 2nd floor, and a young woman stepped in. We stood quietly, pawing at each other behind the woman’s back until she stepped off on the next floor. We took the elevator up all the way to the top, waited on the doors to close, and it was on. She smiled and turned around, bending over in the corner and grabbing a hand rail in each hand. No kissing, no foreplay, straight to business. This wasn’t out of the ordinary for Rocker, she often liked to bypass kissing or any sort of teasing before hand with the exception of a little dirty talk. She was as big of a fan of giving as she was receiving when it came to oral, but even that was too much foreplay for her right now. Needless to say I knew before we got to the elevator what to expect out of her. I reached around and unbuttoned her jeans, tugged the zipper down and peeled them down along with her dark red thong just passed her ass and above her knees. I undid my jeans and opened them just enough to let my dick out of them.  I took my hand and cupped it between her legs, rubbing her with my two middle fingers. Apparently foreplay really wasn’t needed, she was dripping wet already.

Rocker: Time is ticking, what are you waiting for?

I laughed and instead of gently easing it into her, I pushed all the way in quickly and hard. I held there for a minute, as she winced and squeezed the hand rails. That’s when I really got started. I didn’t start slow and soft, I instantly started giving it to her as rough as I could, which was extra rough because I used the hand rails for added push.  This is what she was into: hard, fast, dirty sex. At the reckless pace I was fucking her I could feel myself occasionally begin to slip out, followed quickly by her pushing back towards me to keep that from happening. I reached forward and put a hand on the back of her neck and gripped firmly. She stifled a moan and I could feel her clinch against me. The elevator hadn’t moved since we got in. We never picked a floor, so it wasn’t going to move until someone on a lower level pressed a button or someone walked in on our floor. As she clenched, I squeezed harder on the back of her neck. Her moaning grew louder and I began to give it to her harder as I felt her pushing back even more. Just then the elevator started to move. We stopped for a second to realize what was happening. I pulled away from her and buttoned and zipped my jeans, standing faced towards her so that the soon to join passengers wouldn’t catch a glimpse of her buttoning back up, or of the obvious hard on I was still sporting. The elevator stopped on the second floor and we waited as an elderly couple stepped in. We sat in awkward silence as the elevator moved down to the first floor, with the suspicion that the old couple knew exactly what they had interrupted with their overly judgmental eyes. When the elevator stopped on the first floor Rocker pressed the 2nd floor button.

Rocker: Well that was fun.

Me: Was? Why are we getting off the elevator?

 I stepped forward and hugged her from behind; making sure that the bulge in my jeans was obvious to her. She turned and faced me.

Rocker:  Let’s go to your car, I’ll take care of that

Me: I have a better idea.

I took her back up to the top floor, and we crossed the parking garage and entered an old unused stairwell.  Nobody used the stairs here. The stairs were on the side opposite of the hospital, the furthest possible place from where anyone parks or walks. We stepped down, between the top two floors, away from either door and I pulled her pants down again. I could tell she felt less rushed now. She was waiting to see what I’d do next, not pulling at my pants and getting to the point like before. I knew what she was wanting.  I pulled her shirt up and groped her like a drunken high school senior, squeezing her boobs firmly and sucking her nipples lightly as my tongue swirled around them. I felt her body tilt back, her leg perching up on the hand rail, having slipped out of her jeans, and her hand stroking the back of my neck as she ran her fingers through my hair. I slid down, taking a knee and placing a hand half on her lower back and half on her ass. I had gone down on Rocker many times before, but I somehow found it weird that this was the first time I had ever done it while she was standing up. She seemed to enjoy it even more than usual this way. I hadn’t used my hands at all yet and she was already starting to quiver. I stayed with her as she leaned back, trying to keep balance. She fell back a little, her foot slipping off the rail and dropping as she stumbled back and caught herself on the wall. I grabbed her leg and lifted it over my shoulder, this time bringing my hand up to my chin to help as my tongue continued to dance around her clit. She cried out and dug her nails into my shoulder as she came. I didn’t let her catch her breath. I stood up bringing her leg with me. I was still incredibly hard and popped out of my jeans as fast as I could drop the zipper. Rocker let her shoulders slid down the wall a bit as I pushed inside of her and raised her knee almost into her shoulder. I grabbed the back of her head and wasted no time picking up to the same speed as before. She gasped for breath non-stop, making her moans choppy and excited. I waited until the last second to pull out, and she slid down the wall as I let her go, lifting her head up towards me. I couldn’t tell if she was just trying to catch her breath, or if she planned to catch more than that, but she got the latter. It didn’t take any help from her end before I exploded, filling her mouth and a small second spurt hitting her chin and lips. She swallowed, licked her lips, and swallowed again. Still breathing hard she pulled her jeans up to her ass and stayed sitting. I buttoned up and took a seat on the stairs, a bit breathless myself. We sat quietly for a minute before she stood up and fixed her clothes.

Rocker: That was fun.

Me: Not what I expected out of a hospital visit.

Rocker:  I make house calls too.

Me: That doesn’t make you sound like a doctor, it makes you sound like a call girl.

Rocker: So how much money do you owe me now?

Me: Not as much as you owe me.

Rocker: Keep dreaming Casanova. I’ve got to get going, I’m already running late.

Me: Hit it and quit it. I see how it is. I feel so used.

Rocker: Yeah, you look devastated.

Lights Out

When I was twenty years old I found myself in what seemed to be a dream situation. I was living with two eighteen year old girls. Let the record show that these girls were easily a 6.5 and an 8.1 on a scale of 1-10 or what we’ll refer to as the “Do-Her Decimal System” or “DHDS Scale”(Yay of objectification of women!) These two girls were not only living with me, we all three shared a bed. How this situation came about is a whole other story for a different time, but before you get your hopes up, I never swung a three-way like you would imagine. Never even came close. Things happened with one down the line, but nothing during this opportune time of bed sharing and promiscuity for all. This supposed blessing became a curse, because while snuggling up half naked with two girls each night sounds awesome, the lack of action becomes frustrating. An even bigger problem is the repellant effect your bed-mates have on other girls. The reason for that should be obvious. Then entered: Stalker. Stalker came into my life during the Myspace era, that magical time when people you didn’t know would randomly ask to be your friend because they dig the music you have on your page.   To cut a long story short, Stalker friend requested me from out of nowhere. She ranked a solid 8.5 on the DHDS and was completely into me, and seemingly had no issue with my living arrangement.  We started running into each other everywhere, which led to me jokingly referring to her as a stalker, a joke which would later become more truthful than I imagined.

After a couple weeks of talking online and hanging out after our “random” encounters Stalker and I had began to intentionally hang out and had at this point started having sex on a regular basis. So one day we decided that I would call in from work and we would take advantage of the empty house while my bed-mates were at school during the day. Yes they were both still in high school at the time. The problem was that the girls also played hooky. So with our plans having gone out the window I pretended to go to work and I met up with Stalker in the parking lot of the local theater to go see a movie. Surprised yet again, no movies started for another two hours. This is when we decided we would walk around the mall that was just opening and kill some time. Skip forward half an hour, we are upstairs in a popular department store when the storm raging outside causes a power outage. With no windows upstairs no light at all was making its way to us. I took this as a sign from the universe that I should be spontaneous. We were conveniently located in a section near the bedding area and I was well aware of this.

I grabbed Stalker’s waist and pulled her into me and locked lips. She pulled away only for a second to ask what I was doing. I didn’t answer, I just carried on. I slid my hand gently up her back, causing a tingle that made her back arch and I cupped the back of her neck in my hand. I stepped forward into her and pushed her back to the plexiglass wall that divided us from the electronics section. I pulled away slowly from the kiss and she gently bit my bottom lip, holding it for just a moment before letting me pull away. I released the back of her neck and took her hands above her head, pinning them to the wall. Stalker bit my ear and let out a small breathy chuckle. I released her hands and scooped her up, dropping her on the mattress next to us. I pushed my hand up her skirt and hooked her panties with a single finger to pull aside. Her hand slapped over my wrist urgently and held it a moment.

Stalker: Right here?!

Me: Why not? Nobody can see us.

Stalker: What about when the lights come on?

Me: Everyone went downstairs to get to the light. Nobody else is up here.

That’s when the flashlight lit up near the escalators. An employee called out for anyone who needed help finding their way down stairs. The flashlight swept back and forth as the man continued walking around; calling out for all shoppers to get downstairs where back-up lights had kicked on. The flashlight swept our direction; we panicked and rolled over to the ground between two mattresses.  She began to laugh and I put a finger over her mouth and shushed her, holding back laughs of my own. We laid there on the floor quietly as we watched the flashlight go right past us and return downstairs as well. We stood up and crept carefully to the nearest corner where we knew the bathrooms were and stepped inside for a bit more privacy. I took out my cell phone and shined the screen towards the counter to see where we were going.

Stalker: Where do you want me?

Me: On the counter.

Stalker: Like this?

She bent over the counter and wiggled her ass a bit playfully. Over the last couple of weeks I had realized that Stalker was the type that liked being told what to do and where to be. She was submissive, but liked to play it more seductively. I pressed against her for just a second so that she could feel through my jeans just how hard I was. I folded her skirt forward and slid her panties down to her knees and stopped wasting time. My phone light cut off and we were in pitch black darkness. I couldn’t see a thing, and without music or any other noise nearby, I could hear her every gasp for breathe. I felt as her hands spread out grasping around the counter until finally the light from my phone lit up. Stalker held my phone in her hand, flipped open as she brought open the camera.  The camera flashed and the phone dropped back down and cut off shortly after. When I told her I was getting close, she didn’t take any chances, and she pulled away. We didn’t have a condom with us, so this had been a risky escapade. A second went by in the total darkness and I could feel her moving, but I had no idea what she was trying to do. For all I knew she was getting dressed and thought I’d finish up on my own. Before I knew it her hands were roaming around my knees clumsily, then up my legs until she got where she aiming for and took me into her mouth. Just before she finished the job all the lights cut on in the bathroom. I smiled at her and nodded to keep going. I was too close to stop now. She finished what she started and with a smile she ensured no mess was left in the bathroom. She stuck her head out the door after getting her clothes and hair situated and made sure the coast was clear. We snuck out and continued shopping as though nothing happened.

Me: Did you…?

Stalker: No, but its ok, you can make it up to me later.

Me: Deal.

Stalker: Let’s see that picture I took.

I flipped through the phone to photos and took a peak. The picture was grainy and dark, and I appeared to be much taller and tanner because of the angle, but her face was perfectly in focus, biting her lip with her hair falling over one eye. Her cleavage aimed perfectly towards the mirror and the curve of her hip showing in the frame with my hand grasping it. It looked as though she not only posed for it, but had worked on camera angles in this situation before. That was my favorite picture for a while. I often thought of posting it on Myspace, but I had just a tiny bit more class than that. I miss that old photo library from that phone.

More to come...

You may have noticed quite a few blog posts missing. I’m sorry to say that due to some technical difficulties a while back, several posts were inadvertently deleted and I have no back-ups to repost them. How that happened is a long boring story for another time, what is important is to mention that I am still here, this blog is not abandoned or shutting down. I will be rewriting the stories from my past that got lost yet again, at some point, peppering in untold stories along the way. Also, I am working on bringing in guest bloggers. I’ve made a friend or two in the blogging community, so of which are brilliant writers who I am sure have wonderful sex stories to share. Others work in adult entertainment fields and are itching to show off their writing talents and/or share a steamy story with their fans. As for posts you can expect from me, here are a few brief bits on what I have in the front of my mind to share:

Quick Delivery: A girl we’ll call Sunshine shares a few fantasies with me while texting, which I quickly help her act out.

Love in an Elevator: The title says it all. I did what has crossed all of our minds at one point or another, I had sex in a public elevator… At a hospital.

Lights Out: A storm knocked out power, and we kept entertained in the dark, but not at home.

The Screamer: It was a one night stand, or so I thought.

The Screamer Returns: Way different circumstances the second time.

A Good Fit: If every trip to the mall meant a fun time in the dressing room, us guys would go more often.

Just Bricks in the Wall: I did indeed manage to defile a piece of history. I had sex (briefly) against a piece of the Berlin wall.

That’s a few stories I’d like to share. There are of course more, and who knows when something new will happen to share. In the meantime, thanks for your patience and I’m looking forward to entertaining you all some more with my sexcapades and the wonderful guest bloggers we’ll soon have.

The bitter taste of karma.

Six or seven months ago I was at this great bar with a friend. I've mentioned this friend before, Shorthorn as we're calling him, was the friend who missed out the day I enjoyed the company of Joan of Arkansas and her "sister" Cherry. Shorthorn and I were living together at the time and had made our way to one of our favorite spots, a bar that features live music from a house band, interspersed with karaoke & girls dancing on the bar and table tops. Not to mention one liter beers that make you feel like Thor when you drink from them. The night was meant to be low-key and short. I had slept very little the prior three nights and was running on energy shots. Shorthorn had been buying drinks all night for a lovely pair of young ladies who had complimented our drunken rendition of Cee-Lo Green's "Fuck You", and the two had been sticking with us for most of night. Shorthorn was remaining neutral, feeling out which girl was into him before focusing his efforts on just one. We'll call the girls Thelma and Louise (because I am not feeling very creative right now). Thelma made Shorthorn's choice an easy one. While I was wrapping up a joke that wasn't all that funny, she laughed, put her arms around me buried her head in my shoulder, rubbed my back and pressed against me and said "You're so funny, I like you." To top it off, she proceeded to tell Shorthorn that Louise was not the "dating type", but was a total freak and that Louise thought Shorthorn was cute. The decision had been made.

As the night went on, things took a turn. Thelma and I had remained cozy in a booth, while Shorthorn & Louise roamed the bar, did a duet, and talked with other groups of people. Before long, last call had approached and I stepped outside to take a phone call from Cherry, who I have continued to see since our first encounter whenever we are in the same area. When I came back in, Louise had gone missing and Shorthorn was flirting rather hardcore with Thelma. It turns out that Louise had bumped into her ex, who I suppose she found to be a more reliable lay that night than Shorthorn, and Shorthorn was attempting to take Thelma home instead, so that his money spent on these girls would not be a waste (because yes, that IS how Shorthorn thinks and operates.) I chose not to be mad at this snaky move to scoop in and leave me empty handed, because I was ready to go home and sleep a little bit before work, and I knew Cherry would be around the next afternoon. Thelma however returned to my side when I sat back down. Shorthorn not yet ready to concede defeat invited her back to our place to continue drinking, to which she quickly agreed. I was beginning to realize I wasn't going to get much sleep this night. 

I headed out to the parking lot, fully prepared to let Shorthorn take the reins with Thelma, so that I may get some sleep. I offered to take his car and let him ride with her, but she objected, saying we were all going to the same place, and she wanted me to finish telling her a story I had started in the bar. Shorthorn tried handing me his keys multiple times, but reluctantly drove himself home. I thought we would follow right behind him, but we didn't. We pulled up to a house that she said belonged to Louise and rolled into the garage. She made a few phone calls to her, all in vain, and turned the car off. Her next move wasn't tactful at all, but I am a guy so I don't suppose it needed to be. Thelma took off her seatbelt and said "I'm giving you a blowjob." I didn't argue. Allow me to get sidetracked for just one minute and say this: To any guy reading this, Why is it that when a girl does something that you know she learned from porn, it's instantly very hot that she did it, or hilariously funny? Like "Wow, she actually did it." And a ladies, what makes it funnier is when you act like you do some of these things for your own enjoyment. Maybe it’s because I am a guy, but I don’t see how you can think it’s hot when we shoot a load all over your face, for example. Sure, I like when you let me do it, but it’s just that, you’re letting me do it. That’s not what this girl did though, she did something else I found to be unexplainably funny. She sat up, with every drop of my sticky warm baby gravy still in her mouth and swirled it around, scooped it up in her tongue like a bowl, showed it to me, spit some out onto her lips and chin, and finally licked it all back up and swallowed. I’ve seen it in porn, but this was the first real life application I’d seen of this particular practice. The best part of the story is still to come though, no pun intended. 

So we get back to the apartment and Shorthorn has music playing, a case of beer in the fridge, and is sitting on the couch having a drink when we walk in. I quietly debate with myself if I could go pass out in my car and be able to sleep before the fast approaching morning comes. I know it’s not an option though. My course of action will now be to have a drink or two and pull Shorthorn aside and tell him what took us so long so that he’ll quit trying to get into her pants and let her leave. Before I open drink number one, I get a text from Cherry asking what I am doing. I reply back that I am going to sleep because I have work early. Two drinks later I’ve still yet to get Shorthorn away from Thelma. The two of them however have taken multiple cigarette breaks on the balcony. Since I don’t smoke, I used the time to clean up bits of the mess we are making and to text Cherry, who has been texting me, despite my claim of being in bed and needing sleep. Out of the window I see Shorthorn edging closer and closer to Thelma, still trying to stake his claim as though I was even attempting to compete. I step outside and Thelma puts her arms around me and goes for a kiss, but I back away. Mostly because of the cigarette breathe, and my disdain of putting my tongue anywhere that taste like ashes, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t resurface the image of her swirling around that sticky mouth full less than an hour ago. She looked offended, but I turned my head and faked a hard cough and walked back inside mumbling something about how the cigarette smoke must be choking me. I come inside to find I have a missed call and a voicemail from Cherry. The voicemail informs me that Cherry is on her way over “to cuddle”.

It was an unexpected call, because Cherry as you may know isn’t from the same city as me, and wasn’t supposed to be in town until the next night. I walk outside to call her back and ask her to wait until tomorrow. Luckily for me, she couldn’t come over anyway, for whatever reason to do with her step-mom’s car or some excuse of the sort. I took a breath of relief and talked for a little bit before walking back inside. As I walk in I see Thelma and Shorthorn in the midst of a very sloppy wet make out session. My mind goes right back to the image of her swirling her tongue in that very same manor earlier. I laugh, I thought I laughed to myself, but I had indeed laughed out loud and it got their attention. They both look up at me and Thelma springs to her feet and says “I should get home, it’s late”. Shorthorn offers to walk her out and she declines. On her way out she yells “Call me”! We close up and I tell Shorthorn that I am going to bed. Shorthorn gets a smug look on his face. I could tell he felt as though he won some sort of contest, like he now had something over me. Shorthorn is a very ego driven person. The conversation went like this:

Shorthorn:  Sorry bro, but she was playing us both, and you weren’t making a move.

Me:  Dude I’m tired and I only have 3 hours to sleep.

Shorthorn:  Are you mad?

Me: I’m tired.

Shorthorn: She tasted like cigarettes and sweat dude, you didn’t miss anything.

Me: Sweat?

Shorthorn: Yeah, like kind of salty but bitter. You shouldn’t be mad.

Me: (Thinking to myself: My cum tastes salty & bitter?) (I laugh out loud) I’m not mad dude, I’m going to sleep.

Rug burns and realty.

Often times in sitcoms, raunchy comedy movies, and of course porn we see situations unfold in front of a character that makes us laugh and sarcastically say “Yeah right, because people REALLY act like that in real life”.  Sometimes those situations do happen, but never in an as over-the-top manor as in the movie. Today I had a situation play out in such a way that I felt like the target on an episode of Punk’d. I am currently in the process of apartment/house shopping and I found myself this morning in a real estate office picking up keys to go view a potential house. This is where I met Hannah. Hannah does not get an alias, it’s her real name (as far as I know) but since I don’t know her or any of the same people as her I have no reason to guard her identity. While the receptionist at the realtor’s office was looking for the keys to the places I wanted to check out, Hannah walked in fumbling her cell phone, purse, and a mess of keys and dropped everything on the counter.

Hannah: I drove all over and I can’t find this place, can you tell me how to get there?

Receptionist: I will see if I can find it, let me finish getting this gentleman his keys.

Me: Which properties are you looking at? I’ve been to a few already.

Hannah: These four right here. (She pointed out the places on the rental list)

Me: I am going to two of those myself. I know where the others are though, I used to live nearby them.

Hannah: Seriously?! Is it hidden underground or is there a secret passage somewhere? I can’t find them and my GPS sucks.

Me: If you’d like you can follow me and I’ll take you right to it.

Hannah: That’d be amazing! Where else are you looking? Maybe we could just carpool?

Hannah and I compared our lists and places we had looked already and what we did and didn’t like about them and after the office squared away what they needed too we headed on our way, both riding in my car. She looked at the radio station and over-enthusiastically said “Yes! You listen to rock!” So she cranks up the radio and sings along with a song or two, fully rocking an air guitar. Then Freebird came on. That is when the crazy started to really show. She proceeded to tell me a story about her mom. Not just any story mind you, but the story of how her mom wrote the guitar lead to Freebird while hanging out with Jimmi Hendrix and dropping acid.  The story as she told it goes like this. Hannah’s mom was sitting in the living area of a hotel suite dropping acid with Hendrix and smoking a joint when a man walked out of the bedroom that had just been ripped off by a hooker. Hannah’s mom was riffing on the guitar and wrote the guitar solo to Freebird. The man was jealous of how well Hannah’s mom played the guitar, so he took it from her and beat her with it right in front of Jimmi Hendrix who was in a purple haze apparently because he sat by stared off into space. The man sold the song he stole (and obviously remembered after hearing it one time by ear) to Johnny Van Zant who turned it into the song we all know today as Freebird. Janis Joplin caught this all on video from an outside window. Hannah supposedly watched the video, which has since mysteriously disappeared. I promise you that this girl had the straightest face and utmost amount of seriousness while telling me this story. She truly believed every word of it. There was legit pain in her eyes while talking about her mom getting beaten with the guitar. I kept my eyes on the road so that I wouldn’t look at her and burst out laughing at the absurdity of the story.

So we get to the first place and go in to look around and Hannah walks straight into the bedroom and starts dancing. So I follow behind and stand in the doorway.

Me: Are you planning on putting a bed in here? Or just keeping the dance floor?

Hannah: I do all my best dancing in the bedroom.

Me: Where do you do your worst dancing?

Hannah: Wal-Mart…

Hannah: (Stops dancing and makes a pouty face) This house doesn’t work for me, it’s not cozy.

I agreed. The house felt cold and unwelcoming. So we moved on to the next place down the road. Hannah walked in and instantly laid down on the carpet and started mimicking the motion for snow angels.

Hannah: This is much more comfortable feeling. Come down here.

Me: Carpet does make the place feel more cozy. (I lay down and put my hands under my head)

Hannah: It’s really weird isn’t it?

Me: You mean that stain on the roof?

Hannah: No, it’s weird that they just give you the keys to these places for a whole 24 hours, like seriously we could camp out here tonight free of charge.

Me: I’m sure people come to maintain the properties, not to mention other people who come and view them; they have multiple sets of keys.

Hannah: What if we were in here having sex?

Me: We’d be getting rug burn.

Hannah: No, like, what if people were just coming to this place to get keys to a free room to have sex in. Sure beats paying for a hotel.

Me:  Sounds like a lot of work, but I’ve never been the type to bring a girl to a hotel room anyway.

Hannah: Hotel rooms are boring. But something like this is exciting. Don’t you just want to defile a place like this and then bring the keys back like nothing ever happened?

Me: I can’t say it crossed my mind until you brought it up.

Hannah: But it’s on your mind now. You want to do it now, because it sounds hot.

Me: Aside from the rug burn it doesn’t sound too bad.

Hannah: Do you want to? Like, right now?

Me: Are you fucking with me?

Hannah: No way, it’s way too hot of an experience to pass up.

Me: I’m all about having a good story to tell.

Hannah: Do you have a condom?

Me: In the car.

Hannah: I can be naked by the time you come back in.

I walked out to my car almost in disbelief. Hannah got in my car less than ten minutes after we had met. It had only been twenty or thirty minutes since then and Hannah was nuding up for a mid-day sex romp in a vacant house. I’d like to think that Hannah was a perfectly normal girl with an adventurous side just like myself, acting purely impulse and the desire to make a fun memory; but after her Freebird story I had to question if she just wasn’t slightly off her rocker. I got a condom from the car and walked back in, convincing myself that her eccentric actions and storytelling were just her way of having fun and fucking with me. Hannah wasn’t in the living room, but her clothes were. I walked into the master bedroom to find Hannah completely naked laying on the floor in snow angel form again.

Hannah: Yay a condom! Can I ask you something?

Me:  You’re a bit hard to say no to at the moment.

Hannah: You ever want to try stuff but you’re afraid of what the other person will think?

Me: Yeah, but I usually just ask anyway, worst they can do is say no.

Hannah: (standing up) I want you to cum on my face.

Me: I can do that.

Hannah: and I want to put the condom on you, but you can’t watch me do it.

Me: Ok?

Hannah: and I want you to tell me how this feels…

Hannah stepped close to me as though she were going to kiss me, and then licked and nibbled on my ear for a moment. It felt good in its own sexy way, but nothing too special. She stepped back and looked for a reaction.

Hannah: I want to eat a pussy one day, and that’s the way I’m going to do it.

Me: You’ve got a nice method; you need me to hook you up with some girls that swing that way?

Hannah: Oh no, I’m going to need to be drunk for that. Plus you and I won’t be seeing each other again after today.

Me: So we’re not exchanging numbers I guess?

Hannah: That would take all of the fun out of this.

Hannah dropped down to her knees and unbuttoned my pants. I guess she was tired of talking. She pulled my pants and boxers down and waited for me to step out of them, then looked up at me for a second before taking it into her mouth. She stopped almost as fast as she started and said “We’ll get back to that later, where is the condom?” I handed it over and she instructed me to close my eyes. I obliged. Hannah slid the condom on using her mouth, and then looked to me for a nod of approval, which she got. Sex with Hannah was like participating in porn. Instead of rolling from one position into another or moving into the next position on impulse, Hannah had it all planned out. We would go for a couple of minutes one way before she would stop and say “Ok, now let’s try it this way”. It was obvious that Hannah had these ideas brewing in her head for a while and had so far been unable or unwilling to give them a shot. After trying a few minutes in several positions that I don’t know names of we settled into a nice rhythm with her laying on her side and me on kneeling over one of her legs and her other leg up against my shoulder. This position seemed to drive her nuts, because while she moaned a bit in most other positions, she was moaning loudly for this one and began to cum after only 2 minutes of it. She caught her breathe and asked “Are you ready to cum on my face?” I told her I wasn’t ready yet and wanted to try something first. I commented on her flexibility and then had her lay on her back and pushed her legs back until her knees were touching her shoulders. We went at it at this position and I couldn’t help but look down and watch. This position was really doing it for me, I was getting close to cumming after just a minute or so. It worked well for her too, because just as I got ready to stop I could feel her quivering a bit and I pushed on until she began to cum again, still hesitant, trying not to finish too early before I could give her the finish she asked for, the finish that I was dying to give her myself. I laid back and caught my breathe, as did she. The toll of the different positions was reminiscent of working on all the different equipment at the gym in a short time. She sat up and looked at me and said “Now are you ready to cum on my face?” I took the condom off and tossed it aside and told her she could start working towards it. She laid on her stomach and said “Ok, but when we’re getting close you have to stand up for it”. She went straight into the blowjob, and even it felt more like porno than a typical blowjob. I stood up as promised towards the end and gave her what she had been asking for. I don’t know if she expected it to be glamorous or sexy or what her expectations were, but she got worst case scenario. Some shot up her nose, some pooled up over her closed eyes, some got in her hair, and the rest dripped off her cheeks and chin onto her chest. It was truly one of the larger shots I’ve shot. To top it off we hadn’t thought about the lack of towels and tissue paper. I went out to the car and got some fast food napkins while Hannah lied naked on the floor covered in cum.

I walked back in and handed Hannah the napkins.

Hannah: I have no dignity in this moment.

Me: Any regrets?

Hannah: None of those either.

Me: Was it everything you expected it to be?

Hannah: Sort of, it was really warm when it hit my face.

We continued looking at the last couple of houses after that as though we were the polite strangers that we were merely hours before. We joked and laughed, and while she shared a couple more stories they seemed less insane than her story about her mom. We got back to the realty office and turned in our keys and I walked Hannah back out to her car.

Me: So that’s that right? No attempts to see each other again?

Hannah: God no. “I had hot dirty sex on the floor of an empty house with a complete stranger” sounds better than “I met this new guy today and we fucked like an hour later, but we’re going to hang out again as soon as this rug burn heals”

Me: I’m just going to tell my friends I had some help picking out a place today. It was dirty work, but we really got down and pounded out the details. The whole process really brought you to your knees, but once we got there I could see the excitement all over your face.

Hannah: You think you’re funny huh?

Me: I think you think I’m funny.

Hannah: On that note, I am going to go. I had fun house hunting with you today.

Me: Hey Hannah? The story about your mom…

Hannah: True story.