Sweet little fuck, aka meat dildo

River has to leave tomorrow morning. She doesn’t usually leave without a little parting gift. But she’s had a hectic day and she’s totally frazzled. When I’m like that a nice fuck is just what I need. But she’s the complete opposite. It would just be piling on to her non-stop day.

She surprises me by coming over to snuggle on me in bed. “I was hoping you’d do that.” “You must have been hoping pretty loud.” But how far will it go? Is she just snuggling on me because she thinks I expect something, and that I won’t like it if she leaves for a few days without the parting gift? It would be ok. I know she’s frazzled, and I don’t want to make it worse.

“You probably just want to sleep. And I’m stinky.” “Nice come on. Does that work with most girls?” “Most girls don’t just want to sleep.” “That’s what you think.”

Then she pulls out the magic wand. “There’s time for a quickie.” Now the pressure is on. River likes to be fucked in the orgasm. But can I get a good stiffie before she orgasms? Damn ED.

She’s buzzing herself. I’m fingering myself, and touching her body for inspiration. A progress report: “I’m not there yet.” Maybe she’ll have to wait for her second orgasm. “Take your time. I can hold off. And make it even better.” “You don’t hold off very often.” “Usually it takes so long I just have to go with it when it happens.” That’s how it is for me on the antidepressant. I don’t like it.

The thought of River holding off, controlling her orgasm to make it even better, turns me on. I slip a finger into her for her g-spot. My cock stiffens nicely. “I’m ready.” It can be hard to tell when she’s coming, but when she switches the wand off it’s a sure sign. My finger slips out. My cock slips in. And we fuck.

River shudders and moans beneath me as I aim for her g-spot and pound her. It’s going to be quickie for sure because despite the antidepressant I can feel it already. It’s nice how her g-spot is so stimulating for both of us.

But it’s not a normal orgasm for me. The Citalopram is factoring in. It’s achingly slow. It’s like it doesn’t want to come. And even when it does it’s like slow motion, almost painful in a nice super-sensitive way, like I’m drained from coming four times already and there’s nothing left to squeeze out. But I work it for all it’s worth, and River’s enjoyment is infectious.

“That shall be known as the Sweet Little Fuck. I think it will help me sleep.” Interesting. For me it was more like being a meat dildo. But I don’t mind. She should use me like that more often.

Advertisements

Wrong

I often suspect, even accuse, River of not thinking about sex. Even when we’re having it.

Turns out I’m wrong.

We’re in bed last night, our bodies touching in interesting ways. I always like to be touching.

“What are you doing?” “Thinking.” “Can you do something else at the same time?” “I can get my back rubbed.”

She rolls over. I oil up her back and give her a long deep rub, top to bottom, side to side, up her neck. I really love rubbing her back, putting all the attention into it that I can. I get the occasional “mmm” which from River is high praise.

But I’m not entirely altruistic. I’m sitting behind her, my cock resting on her ass, and when I lean forward I get a nice sensation from grinding against her. Just a bit. Don’t want to be too obvious. Not yet.

River has been having a good think while I do her back. It’s hard for me to stop, but I think we’re getting to the next stage. But we haven’t talked about strings. “Now what?” “I’m putty in your hands.” Ok then.

My cock is halfway hard. It’s soon fully erect and as ready as I am. River tilts her ass up and gives her sexy wiggle while my cock inches into her welcoming pussy. And we fuck.

“Are you thinking?” “Yes.” “About what?” “Fucking.”

Sometimes it’s good to be wrong.