Right up until my head was hanging off the edge of the bed, with his cock ready to go down my throat, I thought, I know I'm going to chicken out and not take this whole thing. It was a great angle to take a cock that long deep into my throat, which he knew, and that's why he had suggested it.
I was more used to having my tongue on the underside of the cock so I can do a little tongue action on the head, where it feels best. But this was my first time with Will, and I wanted to be extra adventurous with him, overcoming my gag reflex.
On the car ride down from Yakima, Washington, to Portland, Oregon, we had gradually become more than strangers, telling progressively more dirty jokes, like the one where your car and house in Heaven are given based on your sexual fidelity (that one was his, appropriate since he was the married one) or the one about the old woman who had Parkinson's when she held the old man's weiner.
I don't know why this man had gotten me so hot. It was at first his romantic but realistic use of words in his internet ad. The emails were fast and furious, but there was never the idea that email would be the end of it, and when we met in person, I knew from across a crowded room that it was him, even though I couldn't see him all that well. I think it was the actual pheromones, some odd genetic scent-based homing signal that tells you that biologically you just have to make it happen.
Near our destination, he had asked me what I'd like to do the most when we got to the big city, and I'd said practically, "Oh, some cocksucking, I guess, and then go from there." He grinned broadly and then said that he'd meant what would I like for dining or entertainment. We eventually decided on Hooters, but meanwhile I explained to him my policy on swallowing.
"I figure, if I like you enough to have your cock in my mouth at all, then it's only right to go ahead and swallow to be polite. That's my policy anyway."
