A mind fuck that ended my four years of celibacy
“What do you miss the most in your singleness? That is, apart from the sight of a cock?” he asks me seductively.
“I miss the weight of a man on top of me. I miss putting my feet on his ass as he moves inside me with shallow strokes, urging him to go deeper. I miss the strong almost painful grip of man’s hand on my waist as he fucks me hard from behind. I miss the voice of a man who knows how to talk dirty to a woman like me and make me moan like a cat in heat, seeking response to his dirty questions as he poses them. I miss the sight of a man who is about to come. And I miss sucking cock the most.”
I arrive at the club solo, my girlfriend Rita waving for me to join her at a private booth. I saunter over to her, swaying my hips with a little bit of panache, knowing every guy I pass by is watching my ass and my sexy legs in the red pumps that adorn them.
I reach her and kiss her on the cheek, taking my seat in the booth, feeling confident in myself. As soon as I am settled, a shot of whiskey is shoved in my hand, and I gulp it greedily to take the edge off. Another one is presented to me and I sip it slowly, feeling my nerves loosening and my body waking up in tremors of fire.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask Rita softly.
“We are heading out with two guys, but each has his own party. I told them that you are taking stripping classes for fun and my guy’s friend wanted to be the first one to see your sexiness on the stage as today is his birthday. He doesn’t want to have sex but only wants to have a woman to play with on his special day. I figured since you have been celibate for four years, three months, two days and nine hours, this guy will be good to ease you into the world of sex again.”
“Aaahhh,” I gushed seductively at my girl. “How thoughtful of you, I am truly touched. I hope he is not a pervert or anything though.”
“No. he is one of the good guys. You will definitely have a good time with him.”
A man stalks to our table like a hunter spotting its prey. I look at him and gasp into my glass of whiskey. My girl notices my reaction and turns towards what captured my attention and she grins like a Cheshire cat. The man reaches us and offers his hand to Rita, shaking it with deliberate gentleness that lingers with dominance.
“Rita, introduce me to your friend,” he says darkly.
She smiles at him coyly, licking her lips like the seductress she is, and makes the introductions. The man extends his hand to mine for a handshake, and I grasp it, feeling the heat rising inside me in places that haven’t produced heat in over four years. I swallow hard.
“My friend had a late meeting at his office, and since we didn’t want to keep you ladies waiting, it was agreed that I should come and pick you both up. Then I will drop you off at Marcus’ house.” He speaks softly with his deep voice while looking at me and holding my girl close to his side. His voice makes me want to do things that I haven’t thought of doing in a very long time with a man. I only smile at him and acquiescence with a nod of my head. My voice is nowhere to be heard.
We exit the club and into his car, riding silently together, basking in the sexual tension emanating from each of us in spades.
I knock at the door after they drop me off and a man opens it for me, showing me the way to the entertainment room filled with drinks, cigars, a pool table and a pole on a small stage. I enter with my gaze sweeping over everything, then sit on a small sofa in the corner when I feel comfortable being in the room.
Let the adventure begin.
“You are sitting in my seat.”
The voice makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. Not in a bad way, but in a very sexy way that says ‘I-am-aware-of-you’. I turn slowly in the voice’s direction and pause once I see the object of my curiosity. I am stunned, speechless. He smirks at me and I slump into the sofa; my nipples are painfully hard in my dress and I resist the urge to touch them, touch myself, to soothe them.
I drink him in as he makes his way towards the bar area to pour us drinks or maybe just to pick something for himself, I can’t tell. All I can see is a man who exudes confidence, dominance, and sexiness wrapped up in a bow with a dash of arrogance and cockiness. Not too much of the last two items but just enough to make a man appear larger than life and intriguing.
He is tall — just the adequate height that ensures he towers over me by several inches. The color of his skin is chocolate, not so dark but smooth and light like chocolate melted into milk. His hands are big and manly as he holds the bottle of whiskey and pours it into two glasses. I imagine those hands running over my back, firm and rough as he has me on all fours, and I close my legs instinctively; something that he catches and smiles a full smile as he makes his way towards me with two glasses.
He gives me mine and grabs a fold up chair which he places in front of the sofa I’m sitting on. He watches me with a half smirk and I drink nervously, taking a healthy gulp. He senses my nerves, and starts telling me about himself to put me at ease. It works. I am charmed by his wit and I relax into the conversation. We share some information about ourselves — hobbies, ambitions, politics and everything in between. Then he surprises me with a touchdown.
“I want to see your moves on that pole.”
I eye the pole shyly and shake my head with a gentle no, but he pulls me to my feet and walks with me to the small stage, making sure that I climb the two steps safely. I hold the pole with both hands, looking at him as he moves to the stereo and put on the music. Birthday Sex by Jeremih — and he puts it on repeat. He saunters to the sofa that I vacated and sits down. I watch him watch me grip the pole like a lover and I start to sway to the music slowly.
For me stripping is not about the dance itself but about the way it makes me feel. When I am gripping the pole I feel like a goddess with sexiness pouring out of me. I close my eyes and sway on the pole to the beat, moving my hips from side to side, and let myself go.
“I have money on the table and I would really like to shower you with it. How about making it interesting and stripping for me. You are wearing too many clothes for my liking.” I open my eyes and focus on him. Indeed, on the table there is a wad of cash. He wants to play and I am ready to indulge him.
I move slowly to the beat and stand in front of the pole facing him. I unzip my dress and let it fall slowly from my shoulders, taking my time. I hear him breathe deeply when the dress passes my breasts revealing a black bra. I dance around the pole and lean on it, making sure the pole is between my breasts, and rub myself on it. I move up and down, seducing myself and making him ache too.
I stand tall and pull my dress down all the way, letting it pool at my feet. I am wearing Agent Provocateur lingerie. Indeed I am provocative, a sexy sight. I peer at him over my shoulder as I move to stand behind the pole, leaning against it again as I fold into myself, ensuring my ass is rubbing the pole seductively — similarly to how I will dry hump a guy’s erection as he stands and I am in front of him. I touch my thighs and gaze at him from between my legs. The sight that meets me is pure heaven.
Marcus is so turned on. His bulge is evident in his trousers making him touch it to soothe it, an act that makes my mouth water with want. He is breathing heavily as his chest rises and falls. His eyes are glazed over with desire. I want to see more of him. I want to play too, so I up the stakes.
“You are also wearing too many clothes for my liking. Let me see more of that milky chocolate body up close and personal.”
He accepts my challenge and unbuttons his shirt, one button at a time. At this point I am in front of the pole in a squat, my thong-covered pussy spread open for him. His eyes are dark with desire watching a patch of wetness that is visible to him. I don’t cover myself. I look at him moving his hand and opening the top button of his trousers. I am mesmerized by the sight. He lowers his zipper slowly and lets his cock spring free.
I can’t squat anymore as my pussy is on fire with arousal, so I sit down on the stage floor in a split, my back supported by the pole; every sense in me is heightened as I watch his cock. It’s a sight to behold. When you are single for a long time and only get to spend time with sex toys, real cocks become something that resides in your fantasies. Seeing one in the flesh, indeed, is like seeing water in the desert, or better yet, it’s like an all-girl catholic school graced with the sight of a boy. Everything about the experience is surreal.
“What do you miss the most in your singleness? That is, apart from the sight of a cock?” he asks me seductively. His voice is low, sexy and gravely. My nipples pucker and I touch them in circular motion, yearning for him to suck them. How did he know that I was contemplating cock sighting in my head as soon as I saw his? I smile inwardly.
“I miss the weight of a man on top of me. I miss putting my feet on his ass as he moves inside me with shallow strokes, urging him to go deeper. I miss the strong almost painful grip of man’s hand on my waist as he fucks me hard from behind. I miss the voice of a man who knows how to talk dirty to a woman like me and make me moan like a cat in heat, seeking a response to his dirty questions as he poses them. I miss the sight of a man who is about to come. And I miss sucking cock the most.”
He listens to me as he strokes his cock, moving his hand up and down, squeezing the head gently while his other hand cups his balls. He is watching me rub my clit slowly through my thong while playing with my nipples with my other hand; each of us needing the other, but for now, comfortable in only driving each other mad witnessing the desire of the other.
His cock is beautiful. Not too big, yet not too small either. His girth is where it’s at…a perfect circumference which makes me imagine how my pussy angles will be electrified by his shaft. His precum is leaking from his head and I want to lick it with my tongue. I don’t though; but I do it in my mind. I moan deeply and feel my legs start to quiver with desire.
“Tell me how do you fuck a woman?” I ask him breathlessly.
“I enjoy fucking the mind — like right now; I am inside your head. I like to fuck hard and mercilessly when a woman is beneath me, to show her I am her king; but I also like to fuck slow, with deliberate measured strokes when my woman is above me to show her she is my queen and she can demand anything from me, and I will worship her. I like to fuck lazy — quick release like what we are doing right now — but fulfilling my woman enough to make her crave for more later on. I like to take my time on some occasions, fucking my woman so deeply that she feels me in her for days, and then I love to fuck her just to show her which mood I am in. In all these scenarios, my name will be screamed from her lips and she will come from fantasies of me when we are apart.”
I am breathing hard as I am nearing my orgasm. I want him to bite my nipples to make the orgasm more intense and last longer; I don’t dare ask him though. Instead I focus on his cock that is pulsing with his own desire. And I imagine that shaft inside me moving in and out hard and menacing, I imagine biting his shoulder and scratching his back as he holds still for one final thrust and I come. I come hard, panting and breathing heavily.
“Eyes on me,” he commands me.
I look at him — all masculine beauty as he pumps his cock to release. His cock pulses and jets of come land on his stomach. He is breathing hard too, staring at me when he finishes and I really want to lick him. This time I don’t deny myself nor talk myself out of it. I get on all fours, crawling to him from the stage making sure my ass is up until I reach him on the sofa. He holds my head and lowers it to his stomach, and I lick up his come. Then I lick his shaft just once, my lips moving from the top to the base, making sure my lipstick leaves a print on his balls and I release him with a pop, smiling inwardly.
He carries me to his bedroom and shows me his bathroom. I shower and wrap myself in a towel. I find my clothes on his bed and dress myself quickly. He comes back wearing dark blue jeans and black t-shirt. I smile at him and he does the same to me.
My phone chimes with an incoming message. “How did it go?” my friend Rita asks me with smiley emojis.
“I want some cock. Bad.”
“Tell me more, please.”
“I will.”
I look at Marcus and agree, my four year celibacy is over as he moves towards me and tilts my head to look at him, lowering his lips to capture mine in a kiss that seals my fate.
