As much as we could have stayed in the bed for the rest of the weekend, London Guy and I did want to spend some time out, so we rolled out of bed the next day for a trip to the cinema, then the opening of a brand new club. I put on my sexy, red snakeskin dress and we got tipsy on delicious shots and Malibu-Cokes. We danced and danced, commanding the attention of the room – after all, LG is hard to miss with his huge muscles and I tend to shake my booty like a pro-ho, which attracts a lot of staring.
But after we peeled off our skin-tight clothes and jumped into bed once more, I began to see there were going to be some issues. LG seemed to be hitting the wrong spot…! Oh no, I thought, Well, no matter, he’s just kind of drunk. Could be all the alcohol! I refocused his fingers… Somehow, he still missed.
Shit. New game plan – I shimmied down to get between his legs and began to suck his cock.
I get really into giving head. I love it. It’s simultaneously the most powerless and powerful thing one can do. And I’ve had some practice this past year, so, despite LG’s intimidating size, I was ready.
Like most men I’ve been with, LG loves to be deepthroated. He wants me down to the base, gagging on his cock, and loving every minute of it. But as a testament to the size of him, I cannot get all the way down.
But, oh, do I give it an effort.
Image via LabMassiv.com
“Oh fuck, you’re such an expert,” he groaned, covered in my saliva and so damn hard. Flattered, I smiled up at him from between his muscular thighs, mouth full and mascara running. Yum, was all I could think, aroused by his massive arousal and him breaking his usual sexual silence to actually moan a little.
He reached for a condom and pulled me to him, pushing and tugging at my body until I was situated how he wanted me – face down, ass up. He kept his hand on the small of my back, making me arch my body more as he fucked me until he exploded.
I, however, did not explode. It had felt good, certainly, and I was exhausted from dancing and drinking, and so had no regrets going to sleep that night. Maybe I should have.
The next night was a reveal of an even sexier outfit. Black ankle boots, flesh-colored back-seamed nylons, and this dress – a lacy mini which showed ample cleavage and a bit of thigh. We went to a fancy North American steakhouse I’d chosen in London and had a purely hedonistic dinner of melt-in-your-mouth red meat. It was phenomenal. Orgasmic. The best meal I’d eaten since the night before.
The sex?
Didn’t live up to the meal.
London Guy can’t get me wet because he can’t find a goddamn thing. He’s a “Relier” – he relies on his big dick to get girls off, and prior to this point, it had worked. But now? Now I needed stimulation. I needed to be made into a dripping, begging slut of a girl because I was no longer in awe of his cock.
It was like everything that he could have done wrong he did: he couldn’t find my clit (despite me having a piercing RIGHT THERE!), he changed what he was doing every time he came close to getting it right (when I moan, that is not a signal to try a new ‘trick’!), and he didn’t follow directions.
What. The. Fuck.
I tried everything. Subtle hints, moving his hands, asking if he wanted me to take the piercing out so he could access me better, and nothing. The lowest point of the night was when he started teasing at the bottom of my pussy’s opening.
“Why are you touching there?” I asked, aghast.
“It’s more wet right there,” he answered.
I think my jaw dropped. It’s… more… no. No. No. No. Stick your fingers in me – it’s wet INSIDE. Or trying to be. I pulled his hand in the right direction, “Er, touch my clit, and I’ll get more wet…”
Needless to say, I never got more wet. Thank God I brought lube. I lubed myself up and let the Relier rely on his dick once more.
Sigh. I don’t know how much more effort I want to put into this. I gave him two of the best blowjobs I’ve ever given (one the next day in a last ditch attempt to get more sex before he went to work). I dressed up. I tried to do what he liked and coax his fantasies out of him. I respect that he doesn’t like giving it rough, despite that being my biggest turn-on. It’s something he isn’t comfortable with and I can get off on straight really, really ‘vanilla’ sex. That is, if the other person knows what they are doing. I just can’t handle him not being able to pay attention to what I like.
On the other hand, I enjoy his company and ohmigodhisdick. We have fun with one another and the sex part is always good – pending I have lube. I don’t know. We’ll see what happens. I wouldn’t turn him down if he showed up at my door, but he might need to pass an anatomy course to get another invite to my bed.
At least I know my blowjobs rock.
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