I was certain he was asleep by his deep, steady breathing, his bare muscular abdomen rising and falling in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. He seemed to be having some kind of erotic dream, though, as his immense dick stood like a flagpole, bobbing slightly down and up with each throbbing heartbeat.
I examined his beautiful, naked body, from his blonde, slightly curly locks on his head, down past his little erect nipples, past the purple pulsing object of my desire, eying his tanned, muscular thighs, and finally, his 10 clean and shiny toe-nails. "God, he's perfect!" I whispered very softly to no-one. Oh, to be 19 again!
At 35, I had moved past my youthful straight-lined figure I had at that age, now matured into a taut, curvaceous, 36-24-36. Men often ogled me in public; it didn't help that I typically wore tight clothes that showed off my lean, muscular body that I was proud of.
I wriggled my hips and slipped out of my tiny lace panties, dropping them in a soggy little heap on the floor as I moved to his bedside. I had been thinking about this all day, waiting eagerly for the sun to go down and then for the house to go silent after everyone had long-since retired for the night. Consequently, my pussy was soaking wet!
As I approached his bed, he shifted in his sleep to pull one knee up and towards me, exposing his throbbing balls to my hungry eyes. I reached over to cup them in one hand while teasing my own nipple gently with the other. I spread my fingers slightly and stroked his ball-sac, causing it to respond by contracting from a large, soft skinny container, to a tight, round firm ball. I loved to cause and to feel this amazing complete metamorphosis. I cupped this firm, wrinkly container, then withdrew my hand as he squirmed a bit on the bed, his dream evolving to include this new sensation happening in the physical world.
I moved up by his head and onto the bed, kneeling beside his head facing his feet. Bending over at the waist, my head was positioned directly over his cockhead. I examined it up close for a moment, admiring the sharpness of the ridge along the smooth cap-like ending on this marvelous appendage. I always appreciated every distinct part of a good cock. "GOOD cock", I thought. I hadn't specifically thought about this concept before, but it was certainly a very real thing to me. Cocks fell into 2 categories: good and BAD! And, not 'bad' in a sexy, "Wow, your cock is BAD, dude!" way. No, there were 50 ways a newly revealed cock could be instantly placed in the bad category. The list went on and on: too SMALL, too skinny, too curved, NO curve at all, not stiff enough -- ever, not circumcised, mis-shaped or... just no curb-appeal.
When it springs out of his jockey-shorts, it should say "Hi! Great to meet you! Can't wait to be surrounded by your warm, soft, very slippery, very wet pussy!" If it said ANYTHING else AT ALL, things usually weren't nearly as hot as they could be.
I digress, as I often do.
THIS cock was PERFECT. I admired each separate feature: the tiny little mouth-shaped opening at the very tip, had two cute slightly pouty lips, almost saying "Slide me into your mouth, suck on me, fuck me!" The head was smooth and tight, with a purple-colored rim curving in perfect symmetry all around the cap. The long shaft was curved slightly and as I wrapped my hand around it softly, was exactly the right diameter. I thought ahead to the feeling of it pushing past my pussy lips, entering my sacred throbbing, pulsing opening, slipping into my body, inch by inch, filling me completely, making me gasp as I felt every vein in it sliding past the million nerve-endings, alive with hot sexual anticipation of the glorious orgasm I knew was soon to come.
I had NEVER had sex without an orgasm. If my partner didn't get me off with his dick-work, I either climbed up onto his face and fucked his tongue til I came or... I rolled over and finger-fucked myself while furiously rubbing my clit while he watched, spent beside me, hopefully thinking "Shit! I could have had THAT, if I had only lasted long enough to get her there."
