My tomato red and navy striped sundress swirled about my knees as I followed The Neighbor back to his bedroom, his hand warm and tight on mine. It had been 3 days since we’d been able to touch bare skin, out-of-town friends and wedding obligations having conspired against us.
He pushed me roughly onto his bed. “I think I should take off my shirt,” he said while with one fluid motion he pulled his grey T-shirt over his head. “And of course these, too.” I watched hungrily as he unbuckled brass and brown leather.
His erection sprung free and I growled a little as I grabbed it with both hands, the head neatly available for my mouth. I tucked it in between my lips and savored its clean taste and warm, smooth head. He moaned and pressed towards me.
I let my hands slip away to wrap around his thigh with my right hand and the base of his shaft with my left; my face sunk down onto his pole.
I perched on the edge of the bed and the Sunday afternoon light streamed through the slots of the blinds as my neck worked like a strutting rooster. “I think I should lie down, too,” he said gruffly.
I nestled between his legs, spread his knees apart with my own and fell down onto him. I moaned and closed my eyes, eternally happy to be lapping at this favorite, magical part of his. I paused for a second and turned to my right and noticed a mirror propped up on the floor.
I was silhouetted by the window, my breasts swells of light and shadow and my folded knees covered by the dark red fabric. My arms distended onto something, I couldn’t quite see, but if I peeked just so, I could see the gentle curve of his cock like a dolphin breaking the top of the sea.
“I can see us,” I said and giggled a little. I moved my hands along his thighs and could still only see my arms moving on something at their ends. It was arousing to see me and not him, yet feel him so electrically beneath my fingertips.
He moved swiftly then before I could react and snatched up the mirror and gently leaned it above his head against the headboard. “Now suck my cock,” he said sternly. I nodded and quickly complied. “And watch yourself,” he added. I gave a small shake of my head. “Do it, Hy,” he insisted.
Reluctantly, I looked up and saw my blue eyes gazing back at me, my mouth stretched wide around the head of his cock. I quickly closed my eyes, embarrassed to the core. My jaw looked unhinged, like a snake wrapped around a warm, furry body, and I seemed alien.
“Do it again, Hy. Don’t be shy. It’s hot,” he encouraged.
I tried again and giggled and spit around him, pistoned up and down on him hoping to distract him from his intense stare. It didn’t work. “Again, Hy. It’s so fucking hot, oh my god.” I looked up and saw him looking back at me in the mirror, his neck stretched up exposing a carpet of stubble and vulnerable places. I contemplated biting his neck for a split second but closed my eyes instead and concentrated on the heat in my mouth.
I sucked and slobbered and listened to his moans for a minute or two. Without prompting I glanced up once or twice, my cheeks still reddened with embarrassment and lust. It was naughty. So, so naughty.
“Do you have panties on?” he asked urgently then.
“Mmmhmm,” I nodded around a suck and pull.
“Pull them aside and c’mere.” He pulled me up by my shoulders and I straddled him as I moved my black lace panties.
I was sopping wet and he slid in deep and long and without a moment to acclimate to his invasion he began to move, the mirror TN and Hy laid out before me. “Look at you,” he commanded. “Look at how fucking hot you are, how beautiful.”
My center tingled and prickled and a wash of heat swept out and up over my shoulders and rolled down to my fingertips. My breath caught and I whimpered as I watched the woman in the red dress, her large breasts pulled out over her top. She cried out and pumped on top of a naked man sprinkled with dark body hair, her hands were fists in his chest hair and massaged his lean pectorals.
And again and again and again it washed over her.
So rapidly, white hot, like a slap in the face the g-spot orgasms came and burst down my door. I begged to stop, yelled out and felt my miscreant tones join the innocence of the chatty birds outside the open window, and again begged to stop. “Please! Please! I can’t! I’m going to die!” My dramatic pleas humorous if not also so arousing to him.
He kindly relented and I sobbed half-heartedly with a laugh and slumped over him clutching his shoulders until I finally pressed my body against his, his cock still buried deep inside of me.
“I’m not going to call those ‘things’ any more,” I whispered. “Those have got to be orgasms. I’m certain any other woman would call that cumming.” I panted and tingled. “That just has to be a g-spot orgasm.”
He gently pushed me off of him and I slumped onto my side. He curled up behind me naked and warm against my sundress. I sighed and smiled. “I’m not broken anymore,” I said. “I feel like a normal woman!” I rolled onto my back and he followed me, his face split by a big grin which matched mine.
I don’t know why I haven’t just called them orgasms all this time. I’ve felt strangely dishonest since they are distinctly different from my Hitatchi-induced climaxes which are body-arching, breath-stealing bastards of pleasure. These g-spot originating orgasms are more subtle, softer, and a part of a bigger picture. They aren’t the ending, they’re part of the beginning and middle; they set me off down the river.
Then I said guilelessly, “TN, you just made me cum like a motherfucker. How awesome is that??” We laughed and he kissed me and hugged me and pulled me to him, his boyish smile plastered to his face.
“Well, this was a wonderful way to spend a few minutes of the day.” I agreed and told him I had to get back to home.
We stood and kissed and I felt righted. When I got back everything was totally alright. I was a normal woman, the day stretched out bright and long ahead of me, and I had gotten a proper little tumble in with the man who has my heart.