Skin on skin, slipping and sliding. His hard cock glides between my ass cheeks as he leans in and whispers in my ear, “How about I fuck that tight little ass tonight, baby?”
I squeeze my cheeks together, making a tight, greased channel for his shaft to plow, and murmur back, “How about you take it in the ass first?”
He stills; I can practically hear the cogs whirring as he considers his response. Then shyly, he says, “I’m game if you are…”
So it turns out my celebratory threeway was a little premature; a week later I have left the Twilight Zone at last, but due to one scheduling hassle after another — insurance, bureaucracy, paperwork — I’ve been stuck in a dull hotel in a dull town, waiting to fly home. Still, the situation has been improved by a brief visit from my fuckbuddy Anton, who has made a detour on his business trip to come and rescue me from terminal frustration and horniness. Anton took one look at Dullsville, decided it wasn’t at all good enough, and has checked me into the fanciest hotel in the nearest big city, with butlers and Champagne on tap and a bed bigger than my London apartment. My mood has improved immensely, not so much because of all this luxury but because I sense he’s going to give me the lavish fucking I crave.
He’s decided I need a massage first, though. A naked massage. A quick call to the concierge, with whom he seems to be on very good terms, and a hospitality manager delivers a large, soft blanket to cover the bed, scented oil, candles and flowers. I’m impressed, and touched that he’s been so thoughtful. It’s quite a turn on, as if I needed anything else to get me horny…
Anton undresses me slowly and carefully, stroking and kissing each inch of skin he uncovers, so by the time I’m naked my whole body is quivering with anticipation. I watch while he undresses himself, not surprised to see that under his exquisitely tailored suit he’s wearing red lace panties. Since I first encouraged him to experiment with cross-dressing a few months ago he’s grown bolder and it’s given him a new sexual confidence that is very intriguing. I can tell he’s feeling it too, as his cock is swelling within the confines of the panties, stretching the lace.
He elects to keep the panties on as he has me lie on my back and oils up my limbs with sweeping strokes, working each finger and toe joint in turn, making my body hum with happiness. He’s good at this, making my arousal subside to a gentle vibration like an engine idling as he relaxes me, then revving me up again by teasing my nipples with slippery fingers until I can barely keep still. By the time he slides a hand down to stroke my pussy I’m dripping wet, desperate for his touch. His greasy fingers glide into me like a hot knife through butter, pressing forward and up to catch my G-spot in the most delicious way. He’s playing my body like a virtuoso, and I feel myself melting, drifting in a torrent of blissful sensations, rising and falling, one orgasmic flare after another.
He turns me over and works the same magic on my back, relaxing me and exciting me all over again, easing his fingers inside me, stirring them around until I’m drenched. I hear myself begging, begging for more, begging for his cock inside me. Only then does he take off his panties, tossing them to me so I can breathe in his masculine scent, the lace damp from his leaking cock.
Now Anton presses his body to mine, hot skin on skin, his rigid shaft sliding up and down between my ass cheeks as he rocks his hips slowly. I’m incoherent with need by the time he suggests fucking my ass. He’s teasing; he knows me well enough to understand that a hard G-spot pounding is the only thing that will satisfy me right now. But the sexual dynamic between us changes subtly when the idea of fucking his ass instead is raised… now I’m not the only one who’s too eager to keep their cool.
We debate whether to ask the concierge to find us a strap-on and harness so I can peg Anton properly, but decide the pocket rocket I’ve brought on my travels will suffice. Anton has never taken anything bigger than his own finger in his ass before, so we take it slowly. We start with him on his front. It’s a turn-on to hear his little groans of pleasure and feel him rocking his hips, grinding his cock against the bed for relief as I part his cheeks and lap at his tight rosebud, gently coaxing it open with my tongue. As the ring of muscle gradually relaxes, I ease in an oiled-up finger alongside my tongue, carefully stretching him wider. His groans go up an octave when I add a second finger, scissoring them to open him up.
He rolls onto his back, knees spread, cock pointing at the ceiling like a flagpole. I watch him carefully as I push the greased-up toy into his ass, a fraction at a time, and I see an ecstatic smile light up his face.
“Oh my god that feels amazing!” he gasps. His yelps and moans grow louder as I start to fuck his asshole with the dildo, gently at first, thrusting it in harder and deeper as he relaxes to accommodate it. His cock flexes with each stroke, moisture beading at the tip, veins pulsing.
I’d almost forgotten my own pressing need, I’m so absorbed in bringing him pleasure, but then he says, “Climb aboard!” gesturing to his cock with a wicked grin.
Hand clenched around the end of the toy as it nestles between his butt cheeks, I straddle him and impale myself on his erection with a happy sigh. It’s diamond-cutter hard, and even though we’re both slick with oil and I’m so creamed up, it’s thick enough to give me the wonderful stretched, stuffed feeling I’ve been craving.
We soon find our rhythm. Each thrust of the toy into Anton’s ass makes his cock throb and twitch inside me, massaging my sugar walls and hitting my G-spot, the pleasure growing more and more intense until it blasts through my whole body like a shock wave of ecstasy. As my pussy contracts around Anton’s driving shaft, he lets out a yell, his hips bucking up so hard they practically lift me off the bed, and shoots jet after jet of hot cum inside me. It’s the perfect simultaneous orgasm.
We come down slowly from our mutual high and I ease the dildo out of Anton’s ass. We lie in each other’s arms, sweaty and oily and soaked in cum and pussy juice, which we half-heartedly attempt to mop up with the lace panties as it trickles out of me. Eventually we decide to clean up.
It takes a good half hour in the shower to get all the oil off, by which time we are thoroughly revived and ready to hit the town in search of more fun. I suggest Anton might like to wear my panties, as his are ruined…
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More confessions from me here — if you think you can handle it! Maybe have a cold shower first…
