Her cock is worth the wait...
She always wore loose skirts or dresses. He began to wonder if she were always hard, as when they were walking through a museum, or sitting in a jazz club, and not just when she let him press up against her for a goodnight kiss.
When they finally went further, when they ultimately got naked with each other on the mat in her apartment, he’d licked his lips at the sight of her cock, at its erect majesty, feeling immediately subservient to it—and he wondered why; maybe other guys would have felt like conquerors before it, like a Jason about to seize a Golden Fleece. But that was just the way he was. He liked to be submissive with genetic girls, too.
He was hesitant, even nervous, to satisfy his hunger, and she clearly sensed this. She smiled while he moved his fingers along her prick the first time he saw it, his palm sliding along the taut sheen of her tawny firmness. But then she twitched it out of his grasp playfully and told him to take his hand away and lay back while she would make his own cock feel good. She blew him, never once commenting on his smallness in comparison to hers, but giving him a view of hers down below at the same time. Even as she coaxed him to squirt his cream down her throat, he could see her cock throbbing hard, leaking over the mat. She liked to lay naked with him on this mat in her apartment...
Finally one afternoon he found himself begging to please it, knowing he couldn’t live without her cock, that beautiful thing seen and even sniffed by him, but barely touched and certainly unsucked by him. He guessed that she probably had planned it this way all along. Certainly she had sensed his anxious reluctance to indulge his desire, about which he was clearly ambivalent. She probably could read in his eyes his not-so-secret thoughts: “Oh no, I’m not a cocksucker, oh no, not me, not really.” Yes, you, she seemed to silently imply now. No doubt about it: yes, YOU. And so she had teased him into surrendering to it...made her cock a necessity for him in his imagination by showing it, then hiding it, showing it, then hiding it again; letting the hunger of his body make up his mind. He was a cocksucker, and now it was time to start acting on that fact. Now at last, this sweet afternoon, she brought him low on the mat, to lick her from the balls up along the shaft, and then bring his mouth over and down on her firm cap; it felt springy under his lips and teeth, and salty at the tip. He took a few inches in and sucked strongly, steadily, finally bobbing up and down on it only when he created a rhythm that he could manage and did not make him gag. The occasional gagging came not from the taste, but from the strangeness of it, the unfamiliarity, the pulsing bulk filling his mouth. This was not like sucking the breasts and pussies, or even the girl toes, with which he was familiar. But once he got into it he turned out to be more worshipful and thorough to her cock than even her own talented mouth had been on his. He discovered he was a natural. He felt himself melt into her very being while he blew her, and since he had come this far, he decided to swallow her stuff just as she had swallowed his. As she shot her cream in his mouth and cried out about how good he was, he knew how much better he would become with all the practice he was going to get with her...oh yes, he wanted to practice and practice and practice!
T-girls make me SQUIRT & act SILLY!
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