Tasting Kurt
- 4 years ago
- 16
- 0
When I was invited to my friend’s twenty-sixth birthday party, I met Wonderboy.
I’ve never had a guy go out of his way to make sure I knew he was interested. I’ve had guys enjoy my view. I’ve had guys kiss my cheek as if I was so attractive they couldn’t help wanting me. But I’ve never had a guy act like he really wanted to be with me. At the age of twenty-six, thinking I’m never going to meet a man who cares I exist, I stumbled upon his lap.
I went to the party sure it’d be full of women and no potential love interest. Much to my surprise, not only were most of the people at Missy’s party men, one of them very obviously went out of his way to make me his priority. The way Wonderboy treated me left a hot imprint where I’ve thought about him every day, sweet thoughts with flattered flushed cheeks.
It has been three months. I hadn’t heard from Missy in a while. A week ago, she called with a party invitation for New Years.
I can’t help that I want to see him again. I can’t help that I’ve had some very unladylike images of me and Kurt. Me being the ringleader. Kurt sitting back and letting me have my way with him.
I picked the perfect pair of panties to wear under my skirt in case he winds up seeing them. They are black and soft to caress. He’s going to want to touch them, to rip them off me or pull them aside…
My blood is hot thinking about him lifting my red skirt and exposing my thighs. My blood is hot thinking about him getting a hard-on from gazing at my finely-shaped legs before his eyes flicker to my covered sex. My blood is hot thinking about the first time my fingers graze against his thick, hard rod.
I’ve got it bad. I’d forgotten how strong crushes are. It’s been a while since I’ve wanted a man like this.
I am shaking a little as I knock on the door. One of Missy’s gal pals answers, and I follow her to the living room.
Wonderboy is sitting on one of the two couches, drooping a bit, as he chats with another guy. When he sees me, he perks right up, and I beam at him.
‘Hi, Kurt,’ I utter breathlessly as I amble to sit on his lap.
‘Hi, Annabelle,’ he murmurs back, his eyes gazing at me like I’m the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.
Sitting backwards on him so I am facing his chest, I seductively whisper, ‘I never did thank you for driving me home.’ I give him a wet kiss on the cheek and slide my crotch forward to give him a hint of a lap dance as I stand up.
He stands too, shoves me against the wall, and starts kissing me so well that I moan against his mouth and naturally stick my tongue between his lips. My lower body is screaming his name, pleading to be entered. My nipples harden to their zenith so I am fully aware of them pricking his chest through my thin ivory tank top lacking a bra. I bet if he lowered his eyes, he could see a hint of the pink noses because my shirt is slightly sheer. I know the outline is fully exposed since my shirt is tight against my swollen breasts.
I’m so wet and achy I want him to yank up my skirt, rip off my panties, and fuck me right here, right now, never mind who sees.
He is so tall next to me that I feel the tip of his boner protruding against his pants and touching my covered navel. I can’t resist. I lower my hand from his cheek and stroke his inner thigh, just a couple of inches from his hot rod, with my fingertips. I know if I touch his sex, I won’t be able to remove my hand for days.
He lets out a hungry moan, and I shift us so his back is against the corner of a wall. I give him one last quick, hot kiss, nibbling on his lower lip as I retreat, before lifting on my toes and yanking the front of my shirt up, exposing my perky breasts and rock-hard nipples to his eyes alone.
His instinct is to suck on the closest one to his chin. My panties are damp and sticky, making me very aware of my dripping pussy.
I am in heaven, and he’s not even inside me yet.
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