The Triad and the Kidnapped Virgins 3 Virgin Prize
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The Virgin Blow Job free porn video
Written by a 49 year old woman here on The Ham. Thanks Jennifer for sharing!
I was 24 years old, substitute teacher searching for my first classroom. On days I had no sub job, I would work at the same daycare I had when in college.
The recipient of my first blow job was the father of two girls I became close to at the daycare.
He was a 45 year old attorney with an office three blocks up the street from the daycare, was a friend of the daycare owner, a notorious flirt, and, initially, completely turned off by my 19-year-old self.
Any way, we became close, over the years but fought the attraction. I would visit him at his office, whenever I could, always hopeful that banter would lead to action...and, one day it did. He was in practice for himself which was a plus.
One early afternoon I drove to Mark's office - an old, two-story renovated home in the downtown historic district. Normally, I would sit in one of two plush arm chairs opposite him where he sat behind a massive wooden desk.
How did the conversation turn that led to my being on my knees in front of him, behind his massive desk? Well I had a stain on my jeans and he said he had something under his desk for that. He actually did, to his credit. He was just making the most of an opportunity and I wanted to fall for it subconsciously? At any rate there I was, heart pounding, never having been in that position, on my knees, in front of him or anyone else before. What was I thinking? What was my mind and body saying to me?
As I was preparing to rise, I noticed a bulge on top of his left thigh seemed to be pulsing. I looked at it with a puzzled expression and it was a heartbeat or two before I realized what I was seeing. My heart immediately began thudding against my rib cage as I realized Mark's cock was responding to our banter and my proximity to it. Was it possible a girl like me could cause that? My body was beginning to respond.
Without missing a beat, I looked at him and chided, "Stop that". I honestly thought that he was flexing it at me to draw my attention to it. If he was it worked. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. He grinned, and I knew he had at least hoped something would happen while I was on my knees. Did I also want it to happen? My mind fought it just a bit, though not my body.
He pointed to the pulsing bulge and said he had a stain that needed cleaning as well. I was uncharacteristically emboldened. I had wanted a moment like this to happen so much that I watched my right hand reach out and take the material and stroke an imaginary stain on top of his bulge.
Immediately - two things happened - the expression on his face changed to one of unexpected pleasure and I felt my first ever surge of feminine power, the kind that comes from being able to arouse a man. Hard on the heels of those realizations, came the thoughts that I shouldn't be doing that and that anyone could walk in his office at any moment.
I mumbled something, I'm sure, and skittered back to my seat opposite him, my face flaming as red as my hair, lowering my eyes, too embarrassed to look at him.
I heard the creak of his leather chair and looked up to see him coming around the desk. In...my...direction, only to bypass me and head for the door to the office behind me. I was sure he was going to hold the door and invite me to leave.
Instead, I unmistakably heard the heavy wooden door close....and, OMG, lock. My thudding heart began to pound almost uncontrollably. I somehow knew I was going to get the intimacy with him that we had been dancing around for several years.
He passed me again and returned back to his side of his desk to close the heavy velvet-like dr-apes that were in front of the picture window behind his desk. For a final time he passed the desk and came to stop next to me, standing quite close to the chair where I was trembling in anticipation, of what I didn't know.
As I looked up and my eyes became level with his waist, i noticed his belt as I heard his voice, low and husky, utter just three words.....:"Take me out."
I wasn't sure I heard him right and, if I didn't, I at first wasn't sure what he meant.
My eyes, no longer shy of his, flew up to meet his as I asked, "What did you say?"
With a gesturing nod to his penis he repeated the words, in a still-husky, less-firm, gentler tone...."Take me out.".
As if I was literally having an out-of-body experience, I found my hands moving to the buckle of the belt I had noticed only milliseconds before and pulling the leather through it, free it from its prong and moving to the hook and eye of his dress pants. I couldn't believe I was actually a participant in an erotic moment. At least, it was erotic to me. I released the hook and eye and pulled down his zipper. Suddenly and not surprisingly, my eyes flew to his again. Gently, encouragingly, he said, "Go ahead".
My right hand slid into the opening of his boxers and felt his warm skin and wiry hair. To my shock, as it slid down seeking his cock, my hand seemed to nuzzle the hair above his sex for a few moments, luxuriating in it before moving further down.
I finally felt the bulge I had seen earlier and freed it from its confines. It actually sprang out of my hands as I freed it from Mark's boxers. Not wanting to hurt him and out of what can only and honestly be described as maidenly shyness, I had the lightest grip on him. I wasn't anticipating that the penis of an old man like Mark would be so firm. Yet what did I know? This was the first adult male member I'd ever seen, let alone felt.
Using humor to cover awkward moments is a skill I have and it didn't fail me. A well-loved line from an insignificant scene from the the film "Pretty Woman" popped into my head. I looked at Mark and uttered a modified version of this quote: "Slippery little sucker, isn't it?" He chuckled at my little joke and for that I was grateful. My awkwardness eased a bit and I was more at ease with what I knew was going to happen. Oh god, am I really going to put a cock into my mouth? Am I going to suck and stroke it? Will it explode in my mouth? What will that feel like, taste like?
Knowing me for as long as he had, he knew my character, innocence, inexperience, passion, and sensuality. In the right circumstances with the right person what is really possible? He told me to take him in my hand.
Having seen a few porn films, I had an idea of the motions that might be most pleasing. I was pleased to hear a sharp intake of breath from above my head as my hand began to move up and down on his cock with a gently twisting motion.
After only a few moments of that, he said, "Why don't you kiss me?" I knew what he meant and I placed a gently, almost reverent kiss on the tip of his dick. Again, that sharp intake of breath and a tiny surge in my feeling, more woman than I had ever had. Is this what I was meant to be, on my knees jerking off an older man?
With a tone in his voice that I had never heard before and in an almost strangled whisper, he said, "Put me in your mouth". As I did so, I realized again just what I was doing and felt as if it were an out of body experience. This can't be me getting to do this?!
His right hand gently -- but firmly -- cupped the back of my head as his hips began to thrust back and forth, moving his manhood back and forth in my mouth. After a few thrusts, Mark showed me on his penis the equivalent of the "male clitoris" and told me to focus my tongues efforts on that area.
By this time he was leaning back against his desk. I had taken over the motions and his hands were twisted in my hair. I don't know where it came from but I began to move my mouth on his penis in ways I had read about and seen but never done. Of course this was my first blow job. Finally - theory had become practice! I was determined to get him to cum despite the fact that his ejaculating into my mouth was frightening to me.
I had no idea exactly what to expect. Would he fill my mouth faster than I could swallow? Would it dribble down my chin? Would it stain my shirt? Would I gag from the taste? So many questions and no time to ponder the answers, thankfully.
Within a few minutes of my oral & manual ministrations, i felt his hands begin to tighten even more in my hair, twisting it, pulling it. He shifted position on the desk.
Then, simultaneously, I heard an almost anguished syllable "Ohhhhhh" escape his lips into the air and a flow of warm, slightly thick and a bit salty liquid escape his cock into my mouth. I kept ministering to his member, sucking & stroking, until I felt his fists relax releasing my hair. My mouth released his cock.
He moved away from in front of me, turned his back to me and put himself back together. I was saddened that he turned away to put away something he had only been too happy to face me to have me take out, to suck, and swallow his less than I expected load.
But then he came back to me and wrapped me in his arms, tight to his chest and just held me. Not exactly how my body was wanting this to finish.
I was 24 years old, substitute teacher searching for my first classroom. On days I had no sub job, I would work at the same daycare I had when in college.
The recipient of my first blow job was the father of two girls I became close to at the daycare.
He was a 45 year old attorney with an office three blocks up the street from the daycare, was a friend of the daycare owner, a notorious flirt, and, initially, completely turned off by my 19-year-old self.
Any way, we became close, over the years but fought the attraction. I would visit him at his office, whenever I could, always hopeful that banter would lead to action...and, one day it did. He was in practice for himself which was a plus.
One early afternoon I drove to Mark's office - an old, two-story renovated home in the downtown historic district. Normally, I would sit in one of two plush arm chairs opposite him where he sat behind a massive wooden desk.
How did the conversation turn that led to my being on my knees in front of him, behind his massive desk? Well I had a stain on my jeans and he said he had something under his desk for that. He actually did, to his credit. He was just making the most of an opportunity and I wanted to fall for it subconsciously? At any rate there I was, heart pounding, never having been in that position, on my knees, in front of him or anyone else before. What was I thinking? What was my mind and body saying to me?
As I was preparing to rise, I noticed a bulge on top of his left thigh seemed to be pulsing. I looked at it with a puzzled expression and it was a heartbeat or two before I realized what I was seeing. My heart immediately began thudding against my rib cage as I realized Mark's cock was responding to our banter and my proximity to it. Was it possible a girl like me could cause that? My body was beginning to respond.
Without missing a beat, I looked at him and chided, "Stop that". I honestly thought that he was flexing it at me to draw my attention to it. If he was it worked. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. He grinned, and I knew he had at least hoped something would happen while I was on my knees. Did I also want it to happen? My mind fought it just a bit, though not my body.
He pointed to the pulsing bulge and said he had a stain that needed cleaning as well. I was uncharacteristically emboldened. I had wanted a moment like this to happen so much that I watched my right hand reach out and take the material and stroke an imaginary stain on top of his bulge.
Immediately - two things happened - the expression on his face changed to one of unexpected pleasure and I felt my first ever surge of feminine power, the kind that comes from being able to arouse a man. Hard on the heels of those realizations, came the thoughts that I shouldn't be doing that and that anyone could walk in his office at any moment.
I mumbled something, I'm sure, and skittered back to my seat opposite him, my face flaming as red as my hair, lowering my eyes, too embarrassed to look at him.
I heard the creak of his leather chair and looked up to see him coming around the desk. In...my...direction, only to bypass me and head for the door to the office behind me. I was sure he was going to hold the door and invite me to leave.
Instead, I unmistakably heard the heavy wooden door close....and, OMG, lock. My thudding heart began to pound almost uncontrollably. I somehow knew I was going to get the intimacy with him that we had been dancing around for several years.
He passed me again and returned back to his side of his desk to close the heavy velvet-like dr-apes that were in front of the picture window behind his desk. For a final time he passed the desk and came to stop next to me, standing quite close to the chair where I was trembling in anticipation, of what I didn't know.
As I looked up and my eyes became level with his waist, i noticed his belt as I heard his voice, low and husky, utter just three words.....:"Take me out."
I wasn't sure I heard him right and, if I didn't, I at first wasn't sure what he meant.
My eyes, no longer shy of his, flew up to meet his as I asked, "What did you say?"
With a gesturing nod to his penis he repeated the words, in a still-husky, less-firm, gentler tone...."Take me out.".
As if I was literally having an out-of-body experience, I found my hands moving to the buckle of the belt I had noticed only milliseconds before and pulling the leather through it, free it from its prong and moving to the hook and eye of his dress pants. I couldn't believe I was actually a participant in an erotic moment. At least, it was erotic to me. I released the hook and eye and pulled down his zipper. Suddenly and not surprisingly, my eyes flew to his again. Gently, encouragingly, he said, "Go ahead".
My right hand slid into the opening of his boxers and felt his warm skin and wiry hair. To my shock, as it slid down seeking his cock, my hand seemed to nuzzle the hair above his sex for a few moments, luxuriating in it before moving further down.
I finally felt the bulge I had seen earlier and freed it from its confines. It actually sprang out of my hands as I freed it from Mark's boxers. Not wanting to hurt him and out of what can only and honestly be described as maidenly shyness, I had the lightest grip on him. I wasn't anticipating that the penis of an old man like Mark would be so firm. Yet what did I know? This was the first adult male member I'd ever seen, let alone felt.
Using humor to cover awkward moments is a skill I have and it didn't fail me. A well-loved line from an insignificant scene from the the film "Pretty Woman" popped into my head. I looked at Mark and uttered a modified version of this quote: "Slippery little sucker, isn't it?" He chuckled at my little joke and for that I was grateful. My awkwardness eased a bit and I was more at ease with what I knew was going to happen. Oh god, am I really going to put a cock into my mouth? Am I going to suck and stroke it? Will it explode in my mouth? What will that feel like, taste like?
Knowing me for as long as he had, he knew my character, innocence, inexperience, passion, and sensuality. In the right circumstances with the right person what is really possible? He told me to take him in my hand.
Having seen a few porn films, I had an idea of the motions that might be most pleasing. I was pleased to hear a sharp intake of breath from above my head as my hand began to move up and down on his cock with a gently twisting motion.
After only a few moments of that, he said, "Why don't you kiss me?" I knew what he meant and I placed a gently, almost reverent kiss on the tip of his dick. Again, that sharp intake of breath and a tiny surge in my feeling, more woman than I had ever had. Is this what I was meant to be, on my knees jerking off an older man?
With a tone in his voice that I had never heard before and in an almost strangled whisper, he said, "Put me in your mouth". As I did so, I realized again just what I was doing and felt as if it were an out of body experience. This can't be me getting to do this?!
His right hand gently -- but firmly -- cupped the back of my head as his hips began to thrust back and forth, moving his manhood back and forth in my mouth. After a few thrusts, Mark showed me on his penis the equivalent of the "male clitoris" and told me to focus my tongues efforts on that area.
By this time he was leaning back against his desk. I had taken over the motions and his hands were twisted in my hair. I don't know where it came from but I began to move my mouth on his penis in ways I had read about and seen but never done. Of course this was my first blow job. Finally - theory had become practice! I was determined to get him to cum despite the fact that his ejaculating into my mouth was frightening to me.
I had no idea exactly what to expect. Would he fill my mouth faster than I could swallow? Would it dribble down my chin? Would it stain my shirt? Would I gag from the taste? So many questions and no time to ponder the answers, thankfully.
Within a few minutes of my oral & manual ministrations, i felt his hands begin to tighten even more in my hair, twisting it, pulling it. He shifted position on the desk.
Then, simultaneously, I heard an almost anguished syllable "Ohhhhhh" escape his lips into the air and a flow of warm, slightly thick and a bit salty liquid escape his cock into my mouth. I kept ministering to his member, sucking & stroking, until I felt his fists relax releasing my hair. My mouth released his cock.
He moved away from in front of me, turned his back to me and put himself back together. I was saddened that he turned away to put away something he had only been too happy to face me to have me take out, to suck, and swallow his less than I expected load.
But then he came back to me and wrapped me in his arms, tight to his chest and just held me. Not exactly how my body was wanting this to finish.
Bess
- 24.11.2021
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