Hi there! I'm sorry I've taken so long to get this out, but I've had a busy few months. If you're new to this story, I recommend you read the preceding chapters first, as this is the 4th installment in a series. All characters are over 18.
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All throughout the next day, his promise ran on repeat through my thoughts: “You're going to touch me.” No matter what I was doing, whether I was in class or eating breakfast, that sentence played over and over again. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach. Did I want to touch him? Yes, absolutely. I wanted to make him feel as good as he'd made me. Was I nervous about it? Hell yes. I'd never even seen a cock.
More than once, a teacher would admonish me for being too distracted or a fellow classmate would ask me if everything was okay. My distractedness and excitement grew all day, until finally my classes were all over. I practically ran back to my dorm to drop off my backpack and meet him in the basement.
I arrived breathless at the bottom of the stairs and broke out in a grin when I saw him reading a book on the couch, his almost-black hair wet from the shower. He'd heard me come down and looked up to see who it was. When he saw me, he smiled to match my own. “Hey,” he said. “How was your day? Did you sleep well?” He leaned forward and put the book down on the coffee table, giving me his undivided attention.
“I slept fine,” I teased, “but my day was so long and boring without you.” I started crossing the room towards him, trying to keep a bounce out of my step. I was just so happy to see him again.
“How do you think I felt, all alone in this basement all day with nothing but a book to keep me company?” he teased right back. By the time he finished talking, I'd reached the couch and plopped down next to him. He added, more sincerely, “I'm happy to see you, Kate.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and snuggled my face into his shoulder. “I'm happy to see you too,” I murmured. I felt him kiss the top of my head, sending pleasant little tingles down my spine.
“It's almost five o'clock,” he said. “Are you hungry?”
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After we'd eaten at the dining hall, we walked back to my brownstone, the sunset painting the sky gold and red. There was a warm breeze blowing, likely one of the last of the season before the cold set in. If it weren't for nerves making my stomach flip-flop around, I'd have felt downright blissful. As it was, I was far too anxious to appreciate the scenery or the weather. I only had one thing on my mind.
This is it, I told myself. If my roommate is in, he's going to take me back in that bathroom, and I'm going to touch him. I wouldn't have admitted this out loud to anybody, but the night before I had stayed up, Googling ways to pleasure a man. I hoped it would be good enough. I really wanted to do a good job and impress him.
As we neared the door, my heart rate steadily increasing, he turned towards me and asked me to pack an overnight bag. It took me a moment to register what he'd said, and when I did, I nearly tripped over one of the cracked, uneven stones that made up the sidewalk. He caught my arm and steadied me.
“Why would I need an overnight bag? Where are we going?” I was more confused than nervous at this point, and it must have shown on my face. He smiled reassuringly at me.
“Well, last night was kind of an impromptu thing. Don't get me wrong; I loved every second of it. But I want tonight to be a little more special than fooling around in a dorm bathroom. I want us to have privacy and space, so I booked us a room in a little motel not far from here. Is that okay?”
I was surprised, in a good way, as well as relieved. Now there was no chance of my roommate or anyone else on my floor hearing or walking in on us. I could let go and be myself, if I really wanted to. Privacy and space sounded wonderful, and I told him so. His smile lit up his whole face.
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The motel was a small locally-owned place about 15 minutes from campus. The room was small, but clean. Despite the apparent cleanliness, the first thing we did was remove the bedspread and turn down the blanket and sheet. Once we got situated with our new surroundings, I was struck by an impulsive idea. Trying not to smile, I excused myself to the bathroom and quickly stripped down to my underwear. I didn't own anything resembling lingerie, but I had made an effort this morning to wear my skimpiest thong and a matching bra. Everything was black, and the bra had lace on the band. I decided to avoid the temptation to look in the mirror, because I knew my insecurities would make me chicken out.
I popped just my head out the window. “Hey!” I said, to get his attention. He turned to look at me and opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “Stay right there and close your eyes! Don't move, and don't peek!” He looked confused for a second, but acquiesced to my strange request.
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and exited the bathroom. I walked slowly and quietly towards him, until I was standing about three feet in front of him. In a shaky voice, I said, “You can open now.”
When he did, his eyes went through a variety of emotions – confusion, surprise, amusement, excitement, lust, and desire – all in the course of a second. He said nothing, but he reached out a hand and slowly traced a fingertip along the seam of my bra, where black lace met satiny skin.
I glanced down and noticed the bulge in his jeans. My heart kicked up a notch, but it was mostly excitement now, not anxiety. If my half-dressed body had done this much to him, imagine what the rest of me could do! I felt goosebumps raise along my flesh at the thought.
Continuing my brave streak, I slowly closed the remaining space between us and firmly planted my lips over his. I started the kiss off soft and slow, wanting but not daring to push it any further yet. I placed my hands on either side of his face as my tongue danced with his in a slow, passionate rhythm. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I felt his warm, strong hands encircle my waist, the feeling of flesh on flesh sending warmth directly to my center.
When nothing else happened in another minute or so, I realized what he was doing. He wanted me to be the instigator. He'd been telling me all this time that we wouldn't go farther or do anything I didn't want to, and now he was letting me put that into action, instead of asking me what was or wasn't okay as I just went along for the ride. I could feel the tension pouring off of him, and I imagined that for someone who usually took charge in these scenarios, waiting patiently must have been killing him. I felt my chest flood with appreciation and love that he would let me explore him in my own way, and at my own pace.
I poured all of that love into the kiss, increasing the pace and intensity until we were gasping for breath and I felt my lips bruising. With shaking hands, I started tugging on the bottom of his shirt. I wanted him to take it off, but I was too afraid to put that wish into words. He got the message, though, and broke the kiss momentarily to swiftly pull the shirt over his head. My lips recaptured his before the fabric even hit the floor.
I continued to taste him even as my hands wandered down to his belt. I tried unsuccessfully to unbuckle it without breaking contact, but my hands were too shaky and I wasn't used to unbuckling someone else's belt. He seemed to sense my determination and kept his arms on my waist instead of trying to help me. I liked it that way.
With the pesky belt out of the way, I turned my attention to the button and zipper on his jeans. I couldn't stop myself from thinking that this was the most I'd ever seen of him. Then once the jeans were off, we would be in a whole other ball game. I heard my own breathing, fast and shaky, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. With the nerves came a sense of anticipation. I wanted this to happen. I didn't want to turn back.
The button and zipper were much easier to undo than the belt, and his pants dropped to the floor. He stepped out of them without me asking and kicked them aside. I was staring down at his cock, making a tent out of his boxers. Inside his jeans, it had been impossible to tell how big it was. Here, it stood proudly out from his body. I estimated it to be 7 inches and balked a little. 7 inches? That's bigger than average, right? Is that really gonna fit inside of me?
I tore my gaze from his member and stepped back to admire the rest of him. I'd never seen this much of his body before. He had a flat stomach, a hairless chest, and strong, muscled arms. His legs were equally strong. He was no model, but he was attractive in a more rugged way, and I'd have bet he could win in almost any fight. Right now, his eyes were dark with desire and the faded glow from the table lamp cast shadows over his form. Everything combined into one dark, sexual picture that pulled at me in a very primal way. My baser instincts screamed at me, telling me I needed him, now.
“Bed,” I forced out, pointing to the unmade bed. My voice was husky. He moved without hesitation and sat on the edge of the mattress, the springs making a slight noise of protest. I slowly walked over and stood between his legs, assuming the position he'd had over me last night in the bathroom. I stared into his eyes as I reached behind me and undid the clasp on my bra, removing it and tossing it on the floor with his jeans and shirt.
I knew I wouldn't be able to ask him for what I wanted next. There was no way I'd be able to force the words from my lips; I was far too shy to even consider trying. Instead, I thrust my chest towards him, hoping he'd get the hint. He did, taking one of my small pink nipples into his mouth. I threw my head back and moaned unabashedly. It felt good knowing no one would hear me. His tongue flicked against the little nub while he suckled, bringing first one then the other to stiff peaks. I felt moisture pooling between my lower lips, and reminded myself that tonight was about his pleasure, not mine.
I gently pushed against his chest to make him stop. “Can you scoot back, and maybe lay down?” My voice was breathless with anticipation. He did as I asked, and I followed him, kneeling on the bed between his legs. I couldn't help but notice that in this position, his cock was standing straight up, like a flagpole. Part of me wanted to giggle, but that part was drowned out by the part that wanted to finally see and touch him.
I got as close to his member as I could in that position, and, after drawing in a deep breath, reached out to pull down his boxers. His cock sprang out, but I made myself finish removing the garment before allowing myself to really look at it.
It was definitely about 7 inches, just like I'd estimated. I knew nothing about thickness, but I knew it wasn't pencil-thin, nor was it fat. The head was a slightly purple color, with some kind of milky fluid leaking out of the tip. I couldn't decide if I was surprised or not that he was circumcised. Honestly, I didn't know what to make of it all at first. It was my first cock, after all. I tried telling myself it was okay not to feel anything about it yet. I had time to explore it and make up my mind later.
After a minute of my gawking, I realized he was looking down at me expectantly, and maybe a little apprehensively. I swallowed my anxiety and reached out to touch him, watching as his eyes closed and his head dropped back against the pillow.
His cock was a hot, hard rod wrapped in silky soft skin. I wrapped my hand around him gently, my fingertips just barely touching each other. I moved up and down slowly, maintaining my gentle grip, reveling in the feel of him. I could never have imagined that something could be so hard and soft at the same time. The fluid continued seeping out of the tip, and my curiosity told me to touch it. I ran my thumb over it, spreading it across the soft tip, and his hips bucked a little beneath me. I drew my hand back like I'd touched a hot stove, afraid I'd hurt him or something.
“Don't stop,” he murmured. “That felt good. Please keep going.” He sounded like he was actually asking me to, instead of just granting me permission to do so. It gave me a sense of power that I found intoxicating. It was up to me to give or deny him pleasure. I smiled and wrapped my hand around him again as he sighed.
This time I brushed my thumb over the tip and spread the fluid around a little more confidently. I trailed my fingertips down his shaft to his balls, holding each one in my hand. They were heavy, warm and soft, and perfectly shaved. I heard his sharp intake of breath as I held and caressed each one.
“Should I stop?” I asked hesitantly, pausing in my ministrations. After his last reaction, I wasn't sure if I was hurting him or pleasuring him.
So I didn't. I stroked each one a couple more times before returning my attention to his cock. With my hand wrapped around his girth again, I began stroking up and down a little more quickly and forcefully. I watched his muscles stiffen and his breathing become rapid and irregular as I worked.
“Grip harder,” he gasped. I had my doubts; I didn't want to hurt him by squeezing too hard. But he'd asked me to, so I obeyed, tightening my grip around him as I moved up and down. After another minute, I decided I didn't want him to cum yet. Not like this. It pleased me to no end that my hand could apparently make him feel good, but I was dying to try out some of the tips I'd read online about blowjobs.
My heart was fluttering in my chest as I slowed my hand to a complete halt. His breathing was still ragged as his eyes opened. He made an incredible sight: this very attractive man with his dark hair and dark eyes, staring down at me lustfully, lips parted as his chest heaved and shone with a fine sheen of sweat. Right now those dark eyes seemed to be asking me silently what was going on. I answered by moving away from him and bending over to take his cock in my mouth.
Up close, it looked like it had somehow become even bigger than when we'd started. I was on all fours, staring down at it, wondering how I was going to fit it in my mouth. Here goes, I thought.
My lips brushed across the tip and trailed soft kisses down the shaft. I purposefully started off slowly, not to build up his pleasure, but to calm my own nerves. I knew I wouldn't do a good job if I just jumped into it like I wanted to, so I took my time, listening to his soft sighs.
When I'd made my way down the shaft and back up again, I found myself once more staring at his weeping cock. The word for the milky fluid suddenly popped into my head: precum. It had to be precum. My curiosity took over. I wanted to know what it tasted like.
I quickly flicked my tongue over the tip and heard a small intake of breath. I couldn't say if it was mine or his, or possibly both of us simultaneously. The precum was slightly salty and a little sweet at the same time. It was a strange taste, but I didn't find it bad. I took a slower, more confident lick across the tip and heard another sigh. This one was definitely him. I took the plunge and put the tip in my mouth, my lips forming a tight seal around his member.
Trying to remember what I'd read online wasn't easy when I was actually trying to do it. Instead, I pushed all thoughts and feelings into the back of my mind and tried to just do what came naturally to me. I gripped the base with one hand and slowly lowered my mouth over his cock until I had as much of him as I dared in my mouth, and then I slowly pulled up again until just the tip was left inside. I did that a few more times, sucking in my cheeks to create more pressure as I pulled up, until I'd found a pretty steady rhythm. The only adjustment he asked me to make was to pull my lips over my teeth, which I quickly obliged.
Once I got into it, I started really enjoying it. He tasted clean and salty and sweet all at once, and the rhythm was almost soothing, in a weird way. I loved the noises he was making, the gasps and moans that escaped his lips every few seconds. I could feel a low heat burning in my belly, and I was so wet my panties were completely soaked through. The muscles in his legs tensed as I moved my hand from his shaft to his balls, caressing and lightly squeezing them as I kept sucking. When his hands moved away from twisting the sheets to clench in my hair, I moaned and felt my pussy clench in return.
“Do that again!” His voice sounded so tense.
At first I wasn't sure what he was talking about, then I realized it and moaned again.
“Yes,” he breathed. “Please keep doing that.”
So I did, humming as I sucked his cock and caressed his balls. Just as my jaw started to ache, he gasped out, “I'm gonna cum!”
A couple of seconds later, the first spurts of his cum hit the back of my throat, and I almost gagged in surprise. Instead, I kept doing exactly what I was doing as shot after shot hit the back of my throat. I swallowed them all; it didn't even occur to me that I could spit it out. Finally, he lifted my head off of him.
My lips felt swollen and bruised, my jaw ached, my hair was a mess, and the remains of his cum coated my tongue. I'd never felt sexier.
He tugged my hand gently until I was laying down next to him. I snuggled up to his side and buried my head in the crook of his shoulder. I could hear his heart pounding through his veins, and his chest was still heaving slightly. Finally, he asked, “Did you swallow?”
I frowned. That was the first thing he said to me after I blew him? No, “You did well” or “Holy shit” or even a thanks? “Yes, why?” I asked defensively.
“I didn't expect you to. You didn't have to.”
“Does it matter?”
“No.” He paused for a second. “That was incredible, Kate.”
My anger and disappointment dissipated to be replaced with insecurity and hope that he meant it. “Really?” I asked timidly. I didn't want him to say it unless it was true.
“Yeah. It was amazing. This whole time I've been with you, it's like you've had this instinctual knowledge of how exactly to touch me to make me feel good. It blows me away.”
I smiled a big goofy smile into his shoulder. It was the best compliment he could have given me, and I felt proud of myself. Not knowing how else to respond, I kissed his shoulder.
We cuddled like that for a few minutes as his heartbeat and breathing slowed down and become more normal. I started squirming against him. My pussy was still hot and wet, and the experience I'd just had had only made me hornier. “What now?” I ventured.
He pulled away and sat up as I flopped down on the bed. “Now,” he said, grinning mischievously, “it's your turn.”
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This chapter ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated, so I split it into two. That should make this series six chapters long instead of my originally planned five. I'm sorry I had to split it where I did, but I'll try to make it up to you in the final chapters!
Thanks for reading! Please comment and vote!