I was panting, so I eagerly took this as an opportunity to exercise deep throating on him. I ran my tongue from his lips to his neck down between his chest to his abs, navel and finally his cock… I was salivating heavily at this point and took all this ex-ruggers manhood inside my mouth… I didn’t gag once but pulled out for air. I just love the feeling of a guy thrusting his way beyond the limit of my portals. It makes me hold my breath my longer for the sheer excitement of the act alone.
He got the ZiM trademark blowjob that caused him to make sex noise that fueled my energy to go beyond my full capacity and push myself more. He pulled out. Panting heavily, he didn’t want to come yet. Reaching for his other toe that was neglected I began to suck it. I maneuvered my way by the inch to sit on his cock. As my anus was squeezing his shaft, as it studying his girth and subsequent entry he just pushed his way through. Though I can’t fully claim there was no preparing for that, I let the initial pain circulate to my core as if his cock demanded immediate surrender. It was that rare, sweet paralyzing feeling that affects my spine and turns my partner more as he get the vibe from me of his complete dominance, his superiority, his new trophy.
I just pressed my body against him weakly as I grip got stronger and he began ramming my way inside me. He knew I was in pain –an excruciating pain-- but remedied this by pressing his mouth against my ear and said “Girls love that about me!” Maybe I felt like a withered vegetable cut from its roots, as he knew what he was doing! I said “Oh fuck, you are a great fuck! Lift me, you strong man. My arse is all yours!” He said, “Yeah? You like that?” He lifted me, as he was ramming my insides to the farthest possible reach. I was in complete submissive bliss. I thought I’d need a chiropractor days after, but no. I was at my flexible, malleable best.
It was intense and he came inside me. Now it was his time to surrender. I felt him shoot. He laid me down and talked dirty to me as I jerked off. Both of us drenched in sweat, in panting. I came. He reached the towel with is foot. We dried ourselves. Cuddled and in a few minutes, hard again and ready to go. Repeat from start. This time, no exchange of words. He knew what to do now that it is no longer his first time. I’m glad I’m still the second person he fucked.
I asked for his number, he gave it without hesitation. Gave him a missed call, and we both saved our numbers. It was already daybreak. He apologized I can’t stay as his flatmate is expected to arrive in the morning. He handed me cabfare, without me asking for it. He insisted I take a taxi home instead.
I kissed him one last time. I knew it was gonna be the last. We exchanged sms’s that same day, ended with a phone call from him that he will be the one to call the shots if ever he felt the need for a release. Of course, this never happened again. This was in August last year. His number –no longer a working one. He’s probably married the mother of his daughter by now.
But one thing remained-- all his text messages that day proudly reside on the Inbox of my celfone to this day... especially that bit about "popping his cherry".
Sleepless in Dubai,