The Leatheress 102 The Full Monty
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The Leatheress 101 - "Poker Night" free porn video
I hadn't gone to Bruce's house that night with any expectation that I'd be finishing the night by blowing him on his black leather sofa, but that is the way it turned out. Don't get me wrong; I'd had an interest in him ever since the first time I saw him a few years before that, as a live reporter on my local evening news, but it's not like I truly ever had envisioned a scenario where such an interest would grow to become anything more. It is just funny how things work out, sometimes.
I guess we should probably start with some backstory. Myself, I always had an interest in dressing up in anything shiny and soft; from as young as I can remember, I used to sneak into my mother's clothes when I had a secret opportunity to. And my lust for things shiny and soft didn't end with clothes; I'm sure that I used just as much of her lipstick as she did, just standing alone in the bathroom by myself and secretly wearing it. As time passed and I indulged in this secret passion more and more, I began to develop an interest in what it might be like to actually be made love to by a man, while dressed in buttery soft satin and leather. My developing desire to watch sexy women wear leather and to smoke soon turned into a secret fetish of my own, as I picked up both habits in order to privately indulge my own sexy fantasies.
As I got older and my indulgences got bolder, I also matured in life and found my calling as a photographer. Eventually, I found my way into the news media, and I began doing some hired shooting for local channels and their news broadcasts. It was on one such assignment where I was afforded the opportunity to first meet Bruce Watkiss; a local "on-the-scene" hunk of a reporter who had done work for national news rags in his younger years. Now; full disclosure here....I'd had Bruce on my short list of guys that I'd be FULLY willing to do anything with, for some time. It's a pretty exclusive list, actually; also populated by David Hasselhoff, Burt Reynolds, and Freddie Mercury, among a very small number of not-famous men that I'd actually met throughout my life. In honesty, any idea of ACTUALLY being with a man had been almost always nonexistent, but Bruce...he was one of those few well-known and famous men I'd often fantasized about. Bruce was a well-built hunk of a man who had a sexy habit of wearing a leather jacket on his broadcasts, seemingly whenever the weather would allow him to...that's probably what first struck my fancy, about the man. Ever since my first day shooting for the channel that we now both worked at, I had kept my eye out for him, but never happened to cross paths for the first month or two. But then one hot day in early June, I was sent to shoot pics of a story that HE was covering for the first time. I remember meeting him and shaking hands that afternoon almost triggered a full-on anxiety attack, hoping it didn't show how much I was kind of star-struck and secretly full of hidden desire for the man. But I seemed to be able to play it off well, and we had a good time chatting as we headed out to cover the story, so one story pairing us up began to lead to another; I wasn't going to complain; how often do you get to work and speak daily with someone that you secretly fantasize about?
As the stories and pairings continued to happen, we continued to talk more, and started to get to know each other pretty well. While he WAS a married man, I took note with interest when it quickly became clear that he and his wife were only together anymore for their two boys, and had been, for quite some time. More than once, I heard him complain about there literally being NOTHING there, anymore. In fact, he'd complained often enough about his relationship with her that more than once, I ended up fantasizing at home later about him leaving her and whisking ME away into some sexy, feminine fantasy I could only dream of.
Then one day in early 2015, things took an interesting turn. He told me one day while working a double shooting in Peoria, that he was planning on having a few of "the guys" over for a poker night, while his wife was in Vegas the following weekend. Did I want to come? You bet, I did; even if just to experience him AS him, in his own place, for just a night. In fact, I ended up having a deeply engaged fantasy about him the night before the actual get-together that MIGHT have assuaged my lustful desires, some...that is, if things hadn't gone the way that they ultimately did.
I arrived on time that Friday evening, but apparently I was the ONLY one who did. I spent the first few minutes having the first few sips of a rather stiff drink and trying to figure out how to make small talk in Bruce's bar/game room with him before the bell finally rang and saved me from what had quickly seemed to become an awkward situation. Ted, the videographer from the channel we worked for, showed up and joined the party. As it turned out, though, he ended up being the only one who did. Two others called and canceled, or didn't show. After almost an hour of hanging around and bullshitting in classic male-group sense, Bruce finally brought up the original thought of the card game and we decided to get to playing, even if it was just the three of us.
Turned out, it didn't take long for old Ted to have too much of it. As cards flipped, wagers were made, and he didn't have much luck. Ted continued throwing the drinks back and before too long he ended up bowing out early, choosing to leave the party and walk home shortly before midnight (he lived barely two blocks away, anyway). Bruce was in a pretty good mood, and asked if I wanted to keep playing for a bit. Sure; why not?
We continued to drink, and shortly after Ted left we ended up burning a HUGE joint; so as hand after hand was dealt, I began to get quite fucked up. Now luck had been pretty much back and forth all night, and even though Bruce made plenty more money than me at work, we'd stayed pretty well even on the poker board against each other.
But then somewhere around my first drink to number in the double digits, THAT hand came up, and then EVERYTHING changed.
We'd began to bet back and forth on the hand, both drawing a few cards and making new wagers before the some fun shit-talking began. Nothing serious but rather playfully, we both began to goad the other into betting just a little too much for what would prove to be too little in the hand. Almost feeling like a teen girl must when flirting, I continued to playfully push him, until he suddenly made the bet that would change everything....
"How about THIS, if you're so sure...?" He asked. "Loser....sucks the winner's DICK."
It was like a smack to the face; out of nowhere. I knew I held NOTHING in my hand; my quite-tipsy ass had been bluffing like mad, just having fun with the man while enjoying the experience of hanging out with him. But suddenly, I found myself struck with a devious, devilish urge that I just couldn't stop myself from answering, in hopes that he just might hold SOMETHING in that hand and decide to "make" me to stick to the bet. Not like it would take much convincing, though. And I was pretty sure that I could always play it off and talk him out of some cash for the hand instead, if he didn't.
"Oh, you're THAT confident, huh?" I asked. For a second, I almost stopped myself, but when I opened my mouth I heard it just drop out...."I'll take that bet!"
"You're SURE?" He asked, and his eyes got bigger, as if suddenly taking the whole situation a little more seriously himself. "No welshing...!"
"Oh, YOU'RE going to be the one who wants to welsh..." I taunted.
He didn't even flinch.
"Let's see what you've got, then." He almost whispered it.....
I sneered assuredly at him and turned my cards over, showing absolutely NOTHING to work with. It was beyond obvious that my hand wasn't worth betting on to begin with, much less making SUCH a bet with. He looked me in the eye and didn't say anything for the longest time; I was pretty well convinced that in that moment, he knew EXACTLY why I'd gone ahead and made the bet. But then suddenly he winked at me, and turned his own cards over.
The man had a fucking high straight flush, all clubs. As it set in what I was looking at, it also set in what HE had been thinking, all along. Not only did he just show me that he'd known from the moment he'd made the bet that I would probably lose, I had also just shown him that I'd been pretty sure that I would lose from the moment that I made the bet, as well. We looked at each other in silence for a few moments, almost seeming like neither of us knew quite where to go with it, next.
I decided to make the move and break the ice.
I reached back into my back pants pocket and withdrew my wallet, fumbling in it until I found what I was looking for. Reaching into it before looking back at him, I tossed a wrapped condom out and onto the table. It landed in the middle, and he looked at it, then back at me. I nodded at him, slowly. After what seemed like an eternity he quietly reached out and grabbed it, then stood up slowly without a word.
"Wow, I guess this is it," I thought. Grabbing my beer and sucking in my breath, I stood up as well. He went exactly to where I'd hoped that he would; into the adjacent TV room and ultimately sitting down in the middle of the soft, black leather loveseat in front of his television. I'd been eyeing that loveseat all night; one of my biggest fantasies had always involved being fucked on a black leather couch, so it had secretly been an object of desire since I'd gotten there that night and had first seen it. But now, hearing the leather creak under him as he slipped down into it's succulent, soft folds, and knowing WHY he was sitting down there struck me with such a feeling of delicious anxiety that I was almost overcome for a moment.
I'd always had this mental image of what my first time with a man would be like; we'd discuss it and prepare beforehand, I'd get to dress up all hot and sexy, he'd be so into it, and things would be lovemaking bliss, all night long. Instead, the only thing I really had that fit anything I'd fantasized about was the black leather of the loveseat....I didn't even have lipstick to wear, much less any of the sexy leather clothing I'd always imagined myself in. Nor was I even sure he'd be very cool with me doing so, if I did. With a sigh, I decided to just go with it, and stepped toward him as he shut the light behind the couch off and cast a nice mood upon the room. Since smoking was something I'd always associated with my fetish and had always given me a feeling of femininity to begin with, I lit a cigarette as I got down on both knees in front of him. As I did my best to try to dangle my cigarette with a sexy, "feminine" air to it, I began to fumble with the condom wrapper. I also noticed that he was reaching for his belt buckle.
I felt like I was on fire, but also on autopilot, as we both seemed to work together wordlessly in unison. It was almost frightening, if not quite soothing, how well we just both seemed to know exactly what to do; as he grinned and fumbled with his belt, I looked into his hazel eyes and tore the condom wrapper open with my teeth. Then taking another long drag off of my cigarette, I pulled the slick rubber from it's wrapper as he slid his belt through the buckle and began to work on the button of his jeans. Popping it open, his hand reached into his pants, and things suddenly became real as he pulled his pink, slightly-swollen member out of his black briefs.
And there it was; for the first time in my life, I was staring at another man's cock in front of me. Sure, I'd SEEN them in locker rooms and pornos before, but this the first time I'd ever just sat for a moment and LOOKED at one in the flesh. Even semi-erect, his cock seemed HUGE; certainly a bit bigger than my own. It was half-erect, but still SO intimidating, in it's own right. But I was also struck by the sudden, almost wicked DESIRE that seeing it gave to me. I reached for it, but suddenly drew back, as if I was doing something wrong and scared I'd get caught doing it.
"Go on...." he said softly, "touch it...."
I took another long drag off of my cigarette, doing my best to exhale the smoke as sultrily as possible, and reached out again. As my bare hand wrapped around the fullness of his rapidly-stiffening shaft, I was struck by the fact that it was so much WARMER than I'd expected it to be; ninety eight degrees always feels so much cooler, in respect to your own body. Especially when everything you'd ever sucked or fucked was made of plastic or rubber. Another thing that struck me was how SMOOTH it was...like a fine Italian handbag. Almost immediately upon wrapping my hand around it, I felt it pulse and stiffen a little more, and almost had to take a breath to keep from blowing up in an impulsive orgasm, myself.
As I shuddered in desire from the feeling, I reached out the other hand holding the condom, and again it struck me just what was happening; here was this man, this local TV reporter whom I'd had a secret crush on for years, who was now waiting for me to roll a condom onto his cock and blow him on his sexy leather loveseat. Even with the fact that I was still dressed completely in normal men's clothes, that delicious couch coupled with a great imagination just sealed the deal for me, right then and there. With an almost fervor, I eagerly placed the rubber over the head of his now-bulging mushroom tip and began to roll it down over his shaft while he moaned softly, while taking another drag from my cigarette and then quickly crushing it out in the ashtray. As I unrolled the rubber and and covered his length with it's snakeskin-like latex, I felt him become rock-hard in my hands, and had to quickly readjust my own hard member. He moaned again as I rolled it down to the bottom of his firm shaft, all the while stroking him lightly and trying to figure out just how I wanted to begin. I'd had SO many fantasies about this moment over the years, but as usual in life, reality was nothing like fantasy had been. I pulled him in close to my lips, smelling it as I flicked my tongue out and brushed the bottom of his tip with it. This was it....and I was INTO it.
Opening wide, I took his bulbous tip between my lips, and while marveling at the warmth of it, slid him past my tongue and down into my throat. His breath caught, and my own hard-on bulged uncomfortably in my jeans as I suppressed a gag and pulled back. Saliva spilled out of my throat as I stopped at the bulge of his tip and after a short pause, eagerly slid back down the shaft again. This time I got him in without the gag that had come with the previous one. I grabbed the black leather loveseat cushions beneath him tightly, began using the soft feel of the cushions to imagine the missing feeling of wearing a sexy leather outfit as I began to work up to a rhythm, and he began to buck so softly back into me with each slobbery gulp. One thing that I realized quickly was that his bucking was very...mindful, for lack of a better word. He didn't really thrust at all....just lightly shoved, while seeming to work beautifully with the rhythm that I was building. This was truly feeling wonderful for both of us; I was as excited to BE blowing him as I imagined at the moment that he must be, to have me doing so.
I began to increase my strokes, relishing in the feeling of his buttery-soft cock sliding back along my tongue and working in a hand around the base of his shaft, slowly beginning to simultaneously masturbate him as I enjoyed in the feeling of his FULLNESS in my mouth and throat. I looked up at him, and as I saw his eyes roll back some, and I began to lose any remaining inhibition. I sucked his rock-hard stick back and forth faster and faster, as he began to squirm wonderfully beneath me. My hands worked the bottom of his pole as my saliva built up on his rigid member, creating such a slickened runway of lust that I became worried that I might not be able to keep myself from coming too soon.
But while it happened sooner than I'd have hoped for, Bruce was not about to disappoint me. His hand worked it's way in lightly behind my head, the soft bucking he'd been doing began to increase in it's guidance, and I knew it was just about time for the glory moment. His moans got loader, and suddenly he lifted up a few extra inches off the couch, momentarily gagging me as he shoved his full length deep into my throat. At that moment, I felt him blast off into the condom; filling it with his hot load as I lost myself in the fantasy of what it might be like, if he weren't wearing one. He bucked into my throat a couple more times, gasping as he filled the rubber with his seed, then he fell back against the couch and slid out of my mouth.
"Oh, my GOD..." he gasped, and I wrapped one hand around him and stroked him some as I reached for a new cigarette with the other, lighting it and breathing my smoke into the room. He smiled at me with the look of a deeply satisfied man and I smiled back, taking another drag from my cigarette as I enjoyed the afterglow and immediate memory of what I had just done to him.
"That was GREAT...." he breathed softly. "Best hand I've ever won." After a few moments, he got up and went to the nearby bathroom, leaving me to sit on the leather loveseat in the warm afterglow, smoking my cigarette with a dainty hold and relishing the delicious moment that had just occurred. Not only had I just lost my cherry in finally blowing a man in real life, but it was someone I'd been crushing on for longer than I'd care to admit...this was a win, in every sense of the word. Even dressed in my normal clothes, I felt SO feminine at that moment that I could have just as easily been wearing some sexy leather dress and jacket. I remember going home that night and spending a few long hours in bed until daylight broke, imagining him having at me in SO many different ways while jerking off to such wonderful new memories...if this was in any way supposed to help assuage the desire that I'd had for the man, it had failed; I was now even more in lust with him than I had been, BEFORE sucking his cock.
One thing was for sure. I was GOING to have to figure out what to do, about this....
I guess we should probably start with some backstory. Myself, I always had an interest in dressing up in anything shiny and soft; from as young as I can remember, I used to sneak into my mother's clothes when I had a secret opportunity to. And my lust for things shiny and soft didn't end with clothes; I'm sure that I used just as much of her lipstick as she did, just standing alone in the bathroom by myself and secretly wearing it. As time passed and I indulged in this secret passion more and more, I began to develop an interest in what it might be like to actually be made love to by a man, while dressed in buttery soft satin and leather. My developing desire to watch sexy women wear leather and to smoke soon turned into a secret fetish of my own, as I picked up both habits in order to privately indulge my own sexy fantasies.
As I got older and my indulgences got bolder, I also matured in life and found my calling as a photographer. Eventually, I found my way into the news media, and I began doing some hired shooting for local channels and their news broadcasts. It was on one such assignment where I was afforded the opportunity to first meet Bruce Watkiss; a local "on-the-scene" hunk of a reporter who had done work for national news rags in his younger years. Now; full disclosure here....I'd had Bruce on my short list of guys that I'd be FULLY willing to do anything with, for some time. It's a pretty exclusive list, actually; also populated by David Hasselhoff, Burt Reynolds, and Freddie Mercury, among a very small number of not-famous men that I'd actually met throughout my life. In honesty, any idea of ACTUALLY being with a man had been almost always nonexistent, but Bruce...he was one of those few well-known and famous men I'd often fantasized about. Bruce was a well-built hunk of a man who had a sexy habit of wearing a leather jacket on his broadcasts, seemingly whenever the weather would allow him to...that's probably what first struck my fancy, about the man. Ever since my first day shooting for the channel that we now both worked at, I had kept my eye out for him, but never happened to cross paths for the first month or two. But then one hot day in early June, I was sent to shoot pics of a story that HE was covering for the first time. I remember meeting him and shaking hands that afternoon almost triggered a full-on anxiety attack, hoping it didn't show how much I was kind of star-struck and secretly full of hidden desire for the man. But I seemed to be able to play it off well, and we had a good time chatting as we headed out to cover the story, so one story pairing us up began to lead to another; I wasn't going to complain; how often do you get to work and speak daily with someone that you secretly fantasize about?
As the stories and pairings continued to happen, we continued to talk more, and started to get to know each other pretty well. While he WAS a married man, I took note with interest when it quickly became clear that he and his wife were only together anymore for their two boys, and had been, for quite some time. More than once, I heard him complain about there literally being NOTHING there, anymore. In fact, he'd complained often enough about his relationship with her that more than once, I ended up fantasizing at home later about him leaving her and whisking ME away into some sexy, feminine fantasy I could only dream of.
Then one day in early 2015, things took an interesting turn. He told me one day while working a double shooting in Peoria, that he was planning on having a few of "the guys" over for a poker night, while his wife was in Vegas the following weekend. Did I want to come? You bet, I did; even if just to experience him AS him, in his own place, for just a night. In fact, I ended up having a deeply engaged fantasy about him the night before the actual get-together that MIGHT have assuaged my lustful desires, some...that is, if things hadn't gone the way that they ultimately did.
I arrived on time that Friday evening, but apparently I was the ONLY one who did. I spent the first few minutes having the first few sips of a rather stiff drink and trying to figure out how to make small talk in Bruce's bar/game room with him before the bell finally rang and saved me from what had quickly seemed to become an awkward situation. Ted, the videographer from the channel we worked for, showed up and joined the party. As it turned out, though, he ended up being the only one who did. Two others called and canceled, or didn't show. After almost an hour of hanging around and bullshitting in classic male-group sense, Bruce finally brought up the original thought of the card game and we decided to get to playing, even if it was just the three of us.
Turned out, it didn't take long for old Ted to have too much of it. As cards flipped, wagers were made, and he didn't have much luck. Ted continued throwing the drinks back and before too long he ended up bowing out early, choosing to leave the party and walk home shortly before midnight (he lived barely two blocks away, anyway). Bruce was in a pretty good mood, and asked if I wanted to keep playing for a bit. Sure; why not?
We continued to drink, and shortly after Ted left we ended up burning a HUGE joint; so as hand after hand was dealt, I began to get quite fucked up. Now luck had been pretty much back and forth all night, and even though Bruce made plenty more money than me at work, we'd stayed pretty well even on the poker board against each other.
But then somewhere around my first drink to number in the double digits, THAT hand came up, and then EVERYTHING changed.
We'd began to bet back and forth on the hand, both drawing a few cards and making new wagers before the some fun shit-talking began. Nothing serious but rather playfully, we both began to goad the other into betting just a little too much for what would prove to be too little in the hand. Almost feeling like a teen girl must when flirting, I continued to playfully push him, until he suddenly made the bet that would change everything....
"How about THIS, if you're so sure...?" He asked. "Loser....sucks the winner's DICK."
It was like a smack to the face; out of nowhere. I knew I held NOTHING in my hand; my quite-tipsy ass had been bluffing like mad, just having fun with the man while enjoying the experience of hanging out with him. But suddenly, I found myself struck with a devious, devilish urge that I just couldn't stop myself from answering, in hopes that he just might hold SOMETHING in that hand and decide to "make" me to stick to the bet. Not like it would take much convincing, though. And I was pretty sure that I could always play it off and talk him out of some cash for the hand instead, if he didn't.
"Oh, you're THAT confident, huh?" I asked. For a second, I almost stopped myself, but when I opened my mouth I heard it just drop out...."I'll take that bet!"
"You're SURE?" He asked, and his eyes got bigger, as if suddenly taking the whole situation a little more seriously himself. "No welshing...!"
"Oh, YOU'RE going to be the one who wants to welsh..." I taunted.
He didn't even flinch.
"Let's see what you've got, then." He almost whispered it.....
I sneered assuredly at him and turned my cards over, showing absolutely NOTHING to work with. It was beyond obvious that my hand wasn't worth betting on to begin with, much less making SUCH a bet with. He looked me in the eye and didn't say anything for the longest time; I was pretty well convinced that in that moment, he knew EXACTLY why I'd gone ahead and made the bet. But then suddenly he winked at me, and turned his own cards over.
The man had a fucking high straight flush, all clubs. As it set in what I was looking at, it also set in what HE had been thinking, all along. Not only did he just show me that he'd known from the moment he'd made the bet that I would probably lose, I had also just shown him that I'd been pretty sure that I would lose from the moment that I made the bet, as well. We looked at each other in silence for a few moments, almost seeming like neither of us knew quite where to go with it, next.
I decided to make the move and break the ice.
I reached back into my back pants pocket and withdrew my wallet, fumbling in it until I found what I was looking for. Reaching into it before looking back at him, I tossed a wrapped condom out and onto the table. It landed in the middle, and he looked at it, then back at me. I nodded at him, slowly. After what seemed like an eternity he quietly reached out and grabbed it, then stood up slowly without a word.
"Wow, I guess this is it," I thought. Grabbing my beer and sucking in my breath, I stood up as well. He went exactly to where I'd hoped that he would; into the adjacent TV room and ultimately sitting down in the middle of the soft, black leather loveseat in front of his television. I'd been eyeing that loveseat all night; one of my biggest fantasies had always involved being fucked on a black leather couch, so it had secretly been an object of desire since I'd gotten there that night and had first seen it. But now, hearing the leather creak under him as he slipped down into it's succulent, soft folds, and knowing WHY he was sitting down there struck me with such a feeling of delicious anxiety that I was almost overcome for a moment.
I'd always had this mental image of what my first time with a man would be like; we'd discuss it and prepare beforehand, I'd get to dress up all hot and sexy, he'd be so into it, and things would be lovemaking bliss, all night long. Instead, the only thing I really had that fit anything I'd fantasized about was the black leather of the loveseat....I didn't even have lipstick to wear, much less any of the sexy leather clothing I'd always imagined myself in. Nor was I even sure he'd be very cool with me doing so, if I did. With a sigh, I decided to just go with it, and stepped toward him as he shut the light behind the couch off and cast a nice mood upon the room. Since smoking was something I'd always associated with my fetish and had always given me a feeling of femininity to begin with, I lit a cigarette as I got down on both knees in front of him. As I did my best to try to dangle my cigarette with a sexy, "feminine" air to it, I began to fumble with the condom wrapper. I also noticed that he was reaching for his belt buckle.
I felt like I was on fire, but also on autopilot, as we both seemed to work together wordlessly in unison. It was almost frightening, if not quite soothing, how well we just both seemed to know exactly what to do; as he grinned and fumbled with his belt, I looked into his hazel eyes and tore the condom wrapper open with my teeth. Then taking another long drag off of my cigarette, I pulled the slick rubber from it's wrapper as he slid his belt through the buckle and began to work on the button of his jeans. Popping it open, his hand reached into his pants, and things suddenly became real as he pulled his pink, slightly-swollen member out of his black briefs.
And there it was; for the first time in my life, I was staring at another man's cock in front of me. Sure, I'd SEEN them in locker rooms and pornos before, but this the first time I'd ever just sat for a moment and LOOKED at one in the flesh. Even semi-erect, his cock seemed HUGE; certainly a bit bigger than my own. It was half-erect, but still SO intimidating, in it's own right. But I was also struck by the sudden, almost wicked DESIRE that seeing it gave to me. I reached for it, but suddenly drew back, as if I was doing something wrong and scared I'd get caught doing it.
"Go on...." he said softly, "touch it...."
I took another long drag off of my cigarette, doing my best to exhale the smoke as sultrily as possible, and reached out again. As my bare hand wrapped around the fullness of his rapidly-stiffening shaft, I was struck by the fact that it was so much WARMER than I'd expected it to be; ninety eight degrees always feels so much cooler, in respect to your own body. Especially when everything you'd ever sucked or fucked was made of plastic or rubber. Another thing that struck me was how SMOOTH it was...like a fine Italian handbag. Almost immediately upon wrapping my hand around it, I felt it pulse and stiffen a little more, and almost had to take a breath to keep from blowing up in an impulsive orgasm, myself.
As I shuddered in desire from the feeling, I reached out the other hand holding the condom, and again it struck me just what was happening; here was this man, this local TV reporter whom I'd had a secret crush on for years, who was now waiting for me to roll a condom onto his cock and blow him on his sexy leather loveseat. Even with the fact that I was still dressed completely in normal men's clothes, that delicious couch coupled with a great imagination just sealed the deal for me, right then and there. With an almost fervor, I eagerly placed the rubber over the head of his now-bulging mushroom tip and began to roll it down over his shaft while he moaned softly, while taking another drag from my cigarette and then quickly crushing it out in the ashtray. As I unrolled the rubber and and covered his length with it's snakeskin-like latex, I felt him become rock-hard in my hands, and had to quickly readjust my own hard member. He moaned again as I rolled it down to the bottom of his firm shaft, all the while stroking him lightly and trying to figure out just how I wanted to begin. I'd had SO many fantasies about this moment over the years, but as usual in life, reality was nothing like fantasy had been. I pulled him in close to my lips, smelling it as I flicked my tongue out and brushed the bottom of his tip with it. This was it....and I was INTO it.
Opening wide, I took his bulbous tip between my lips, and while marveling at the warmth of it, slid him past my tongue and down into my throat. His breath caught, and my own hard-on bulged uncomfortably in my jeans as I suppressed a gag and pulled back. Saliva spilled out of my throat as I stopped at the bulge of his tip and after a short pause, eagerly slid back down the shaft again. This time I got him in without the gag that had come with the previous one. I grabbed the black leather loveseat cushions beneath him tightly, began using the soft feel of the cushions to imagine the missing feeling of wearing a sexy leather outfit as I began to work up to a rhythm, and he began to buck so softly back into me with each slobbery gulp. One thing that I realized quickly was that his bucking was very...mindful, for lack of a better word. He didn't really thrust at all....just lightly shoved, while seeming to work beautifully with the rhythm that I was building. This was truly feeling wonderful for both of us; I was as excited to BE blowing him as I imagined at the moment that he must be, to have me doing so.
I began to increase my strokes, relishing in the feeling of his buttery-soft cock sliding back along my tongue and working in a hand around the base of his shaft, slowly beginning to simultaneously masturbate him as I enjoyed in the feeling of his FULLNESS in my mouth and throat. I looked up at him, and as I saw his eyes roll back some, and I began to lose any remaining inhibition. I sucked his rock-hard stick back and forth faster and faster, as he began to squirm wonderfully beneath me. My hands worked the bottom of his pole as my saliva built up on his rigid member, creating such a slickened runway of lust that I became worried that I might not be able to keep myself from coming too soon.
But while it happened sooner than I'd have hoped for, Bruce was not about to disappoint me. His hand worked it's way in lightly behind my head, the soft bucking he'd been doing began to increase in it's guidance, and I knew it was just about time for the glory moment. His moans got loader, and suddenly he lifted up a few extra inches off the couch, momentarily gagging me as he shoved his full length deep into my throat. At that moment, I felt him blast off into the condom; filling it with his hot load as I lost myself in the fantasy of what it might be like, if he weren't wearing one. He bucked into my throat a couple more times, gasping as he filled the rubber with his seed, then he fell back against the couch and slid out of my mouth.
"Oh, my GOD..." he gasped, and I wrapped one hand around him and stroked him some as I reached for a new cigarette with the other, lighting it and breathing my smoke into the room. He smiled at me with the look of a deeply satisfied man and I smiled back, taking another drag from my cigarette as I enjoyed the afterglow and immediate memory of what I had just done to him.
"That was GREAT...." he breathed softly. "Best hand I've ever won." After a few moments, he got up and went to the nearby bathroom, leaving me to sit on the leather loveseat in the warm afterglow, smoking my cigarette with a dainty hold and relishing the delicious moment that had just occurred. Not only had I just lost my cherry in finally blowing a man in real life, but it was someone I'd been crushing on for longer than I'd care to admit...this was a win, in every sense of the word. Even dressed in my normal clothes, I felt SO feminine at that moment that I could have just as easily been wearing some sexy leather dress and jacket. I remember going home that night and spending a few long hours in bed until daylight broke, imagining him having at me in SO many different ways while jerking off to such wonderful new memories...if this was in any way supposed to help assuage the desire that I'd had for the man, it had failed; I was now even more in lust with him than I had been, BEFORE sucking his cock.
One thing was for sure. I was GOING to have to figure out what to do, about this....
Jeannie
- 24.07.2021
- 38
- 0
