My First Date With Josh

Josh came to pick me up at the train station, and just in time, because transit was closing it up and I was getting shunted outside into the chilly October night. He got out of his car and embraced me in a big hug -- not tight enough to make me squeak, but a pretty good one. On the ride over to the friend's house where he was staying, we chatted about his (extremely cool) job, our various friends, and so on.

The house was just about brand new and extremely nice. His friends must have just moved in, because there wasn't even furniture in half the rooms, and the wall between the kitchen and dining room was sort of skinned -- apparently they wanted to open it up and were in the middle of that process. So, very nice house, probably the nicest one I've ever spent real time in. Josh was a lot punchier and more energetic in person than how he'd come across in text -- I was a little intimidated, to be honest. But we had some wine, which got me more talkative. Then he got out some vegetables and kitchen implements and put me to work slicing and seasoning tomatoes and breaking the tough ends off of asparagus. Not that either of those things are hard to do, but he complimented me anyway. Somewhere in there, he touched my hips, moving me out of the way so he could get to a cabinet. Somewhere, we toasted our first date. And somewhere, we kissed for the first time -- he was a very gentle, tender kisser, and I could feel electricity darting from my solar plexus up into my ribs and breasts. We kissed a few more times while cooking, really nice, sweet, slow kisses,

Dinner was genuinely delicious, tofu marinated really well with the veg I had prepped, and we shared some laughs and talked about me being an ex-model. He was curious, but clearly didn't really know what to do with it. That was a turn I was going to take no matter what, though, because it's just what I used to do, so oh well. He picked up the dishes (I asked, but he didn't let me help), and then came around behind me. I'm honestly not sure how we managed to kiss, because I was in this big high-backed chair, but we managed it somehow. He slipped a hand under the top of my dress and pinched one of my nipples, hard enough to get my attention, and then caressed me -- and no, I didn't have a bra on. Of course not! I said, "we should get out of this room," and he led me into the living room.

We kissed and kissed -- lips, cheeks, necks. At some point, he got my dress off and pulled me onto his lap so he could suck my tits. I moaned, quite a lot. I love that. He reached into my panties and laughed, saying, "oh, wow," because, you know, I was just super slippery-hot-wet. This was about the time he lay back and said, "I want you to do what you want," and I half-panicked. It's hard for me to do what I want, because almost all of what I want is for the guy to do things to me. Throw me around, pin my arms, kiss me, fuck me, spank me, slap me. All I really know how to do is what I think the other person wants. So I got his cock out, which was, of course, rock hard by this point, and started sucking it. One hand keeping my mouth company, stroking the underside with my tongue, teasing the tip and then plunging the whole thing back down my throat. He took my chin in one hand, pulling my head up, and said, "wait, wait, you're going to make me cum!" I just smiled wickedly.

We kissed our way into the bedroom, where he lowered me onto the bed (apparently had just gotten it, so I assume this was its first breaking-in) and started licking my pussy hungrily. I moaned, more, and slid a hand up to squeeze one of my own tits. He did something to my clit, and I don't know what it was, but it was fast and I shot up, arching out of the bed, and full-on yelled as I came for the first time. He flipped me over so I was on top of him, and I started grinding my pussy on his cock as he caressed my legs. I leaned down and we kissed again, both of us moaning as I pressed myself into him, back and forth, over and over again. He said, a little breathlessly, "ok,we should really fuck," with which I wholeheartedly agreed, and he got a condom from the closet and put it on.

He wanted me on top of him, but, you know this, I start out really, really tight, and I couldn't get his cock into me, so we rolled over and he slid into me. He kissed my neck and fucked me and fucked me, til I started to cum, and then I moaned, as I do, and clutched his cock, cumming on it and getting even wetter. "Oh, wow," he said again, "I can really feel it when you cum!" I laughed, still throbbing and cumming, and when I relaxed, he pulled out of me, turning me over so he could fuck me from behind. He grabbed my hips, slamming into me, and I pressed the side of my face into the bed, totally blissed out. Eventually, he lifted me up so he could kiss the backs of my shoulders and my neck, and I cried out with how fucking good it all felt. He grabbed one of my tits, squeezing as he pumped his cock into me, and we moved together. I came again, yelling and panting and my pussy pulsing around him.

He threw himself down on his back and pulled me on top of him, and I started fucking him, running my hands up and down his body and throwing my head back, every nerve alive and charged. I came again almost immediately, with his cock bumping up against my cervix, my pussy grabbing him and grabbing him, bearing down on him so it would last longer, moaning over and over again.

I must have been doing a good job, because he kept me up there for quite a while. I worked his cock with my muscles, kissed him, and moaned more and more as he grabbed my arms and sucked my nipples. Finally, I felt him grab my hips hard, and he arched up into me, closing his eyes and giving a cry of his own as he came. I felt it pulse up inside me along the bottom of his cock, and I leaned down to kiss him softly as he subsided.

"Wow," he said. "Thanks for fucking my brains out." And I just smiled again.