Stirred, not shaken

3 min read

photo: SexArt

My fuckbuddy proves the fastest way to my O is around…and around. His dick is driving me stir crazy.

Door’s unlocked, cum in, Big Daddycat sexts me playfully. My heart races and my pussy pulses, anticipating where in his house that six-foot-one vista of rugged man-terrain will be when I open it.

Standing near the door where he can grab me, lay me onto the sofa and bring that handsome head between my spreading thighs? Sprawled on the king bed so I can rub my pliant breasts across his brawny torso? Manspread on the sofa, where I will instantly drop to my knees and engulf his cock and balls with my hungering mouth? Three good ones, but there’s a fourth tantalizing possibility.

Maybe we will plunge straight down to the living room floor, and fuck like the forces of nature we are, as we have many times before. As Big Daddycat once replied to my sext about wanting to fuck him during the thunderstorm that was pounding my roof, That would be a Cat 5. His balls caroming off my clit in doggy, our filthy shouts of “squirting whore” and “little cock slut” booming out to the heavens in harmony with thunderclaps. The orgasmic G-spot jolts and analgasms as electrifying as lightening.

As I was saying, if we’ve been sexting ahead of time — our foreplay of “what do you want me to do to you?” — chances are he’ll be good and hard. If he’s had no time to prime the pump, my mouth does the job fast.

Voila! Big Daddycat is standing there naked, displaying those long legs with powerful thighs, his thick eight-inch cock and well-formed balls slung between them. He sits down as I pull off the sandals, tank and shorts I threw on with nothing underneath. Much as I love wearing sensuous little pieces of lingerie to slither against him in, especially when he pulls my lace covered nips, it seems superfluous at times like this.

We sink down to the carpet. Today I crave some body contact first and climb onto him, my tits breaking into his chest, jolting him slightly. Then I slide down to position my head on him, growling over his dick like a she-wolf. Now my tongue is slathering his cock in saliva, swirling around the head, skating across the slit, swelling him to full tumescence. His shaft throbs happily in my hand, and when I grip near the base I feel the root of it that’s hidden beneath his flesh. The thrill of that subsurface contact offers an incredible intimacy. I feel like I’ve been granted secret knowledge and it’s insanely arousing.

I spit on his balls several times and envelope them between my lips, suckling their softness, swooshing my tongue underneath to paint his taint and lightly rim his crack. The breezy scent of bodywash engages my nostrils, making it all the sweeter to linger there with my lingual explorations. Meanwhile my other hand gently hugs his nuts until my mouth takes over again.

All this oral action is driving Big Daddycat crazy — and making my pussy profoundly wet, something that Rose MyErotica and I agree is the magic charm. I use my dipstick finger and offer its sampling to his mouth, like a sommelier pouring a little vintage vino into the glass for the connoisseur’s approval. And he is definitely a connoisseur of what is brought from the pussyjuice cellar. He licks the creamy elixir from my fingers, moaning, telling me what a good little whore I am. Let the pussyjuice pour!

It will; but first cocktails. And that’s where the stirring begins.

“Mount me!” he commands. I straddle Big Daddycat and gradually drop into a squat until his eight solid inches are slipped deep into me. Lately we’ve been partial to cowgirl. It allows him to lie on his broad back and relax his hunky shoulders, strained from ten-hour workdays outdoors, running and maintaining heavy equipment. Occasionally he will sit partly up, resting on his tan, muscular forearms to gaze down on his shaft playing peekaboo in and out of my snatch.

“Give it to your cock slut, Alpha Beast!” I shout.

Up on top I can shimmy and writhe freely, long red hair flying, pendulous pink-nippled boobs bobbing. I’m a porn star and a bronco rider, an exotic dancer and a squirting whore. His cock is my command post, whether it’s me or him doing the commanding. I’m a secret agent astride a heat-seeking missile and doing my damnedest to keep it from exploding too soon. Because once my Alpha Beast starts bucking, it won’t be long. So to prolong my pleasure and save his stamina, we’ve been stirring things up.

As my hips roll, the head of his cock swizzles around my cervix, sending out orgasms in seismic waves. Each wave coaxing out a dozen more little ones the more I grind down. Yet I still crave his pounding where his pelvis pummels my perineum. “Buck me!”

This he does, right to the edge, before easing up. Then we stir again. And I come again in waves. Pause. Buck. Repeat.

“I want to make this worth your time,” he growls.

“Oh it sure is, Big Daddycat.” In that moment, lines from Honeysuckle Rose, the Fats Waller classic, float into mind.

Don’t buy sugar

You just have to touch my cup

You’re my sugar

It’s sweeter when you stir it up

He’s jumped ship from work to do this, but he can only get away for a quickie so we’re on the clock. It would seem like the short end of the stick for me except the urgency — and his concern for me to be fully pleasured — simply makes it hotter. There’s an art to a great quickie and BDC is a master. He knows how to ensure his squirting whore gets the cum she came for.

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