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There I was in a fancy little one-bedroom apartment in the heart of Denver, laying on a big gray couch with a beautiful boy laying on top of me.
Sometimes when you’re lonely, all you want is that weight; the weight of a man resting on your chest, resting in your arms. It brought me so much comfort that night…something I had been missing.
He laid there on top of me and I traced his back with my fingernails and wove my nude painted fingers through his silky soft, dark brown hair. We stayed like that for a while, just resting, until he finally fell to my side and found my lips.
It’s funny what the body and mind remember. A smell. A taste. The way two lips perfectly fit together. I had forgotten all about him in the nine years since we last kissed, but when he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, it all felt familiar.
I knew that smell, and I knew that taste, and I knew that tongue and the way it danced around my mouth.
I started to wonder, is this how he got me back then? Is this why I was so infatuated by him when I was just sixteen? He leaned in and kissed me hard and I swear it felt so meaningful. It felt so playful and intimate and it clicked right then and there that I had been craving that very thing for years now.
His hands wandered around my body, finding my nipples first. No one ever pays too much attention to the nipples. They usually just grab my boobs and suck on them a little. There isn't much skill put forth in the act. They aren't deliberate with their moves. They're sloppy.
But he knew how to work them. He'd focus on one at a time, circling my areola and then pinching it until they were hard. He'd wet his finger and then rub it gently against the flat top of it before rolling it between his fingers. He'd work one and then move to the other, making me squirm under his touch.
It excited me in every way. It made me crave his lips on them—his teeth secured tightly around their base. It made me tighten my legs together to feel an ounce of pressure push down on my clit. It made warm, wet liquid trickle out of my vagina and mark my soft panties.
No one had ever made me so close to orgasming from simply stimulating my nipples, but I swear I could have come just from that. But it didn’t stop there. He kept playing, soon finding his way down my body and into my pants.
His middle finger slid so effortlessly between the lips, his thumb ran behind, and pet the freshly shaven skin. He poked his finger just barely inside of me and came back up with wet liquid he swirled around my clit.
Our lips touched but we didn't kiss. He just stayed close, feeling the brush of my lips slip by his as I twitched beneath him. I could feel my breath getting heavier as he reached down and entered two fingers inside me. I lifted my lips even more to meet his, our mouths slightly open, our tongues peeking out to touch.
I pushed him onto his back and rolled over onto my knees. I pushed up his shirt and pulled down on the waist band of his Nike sweatpants. His hard, erect penis jumped out to greet me as soon as I got the pants past his hips.
There’s a type of power you feel when you have a man’s dick in your mouth. There’s a moment—that “holy shit” that escapes their mouth because it just feels so damn good. That moment. It's exhilarating.
I gathered a bunch of spit in my mouth and held it in my cheek before I parted my lips and let the tip of his dick slide in. I held the base of it as I let the spit fall around the head and then circled my tongue around it.
I watched as the spit traveled down his shaft, at times licking it up and bringing it to the head again., but eventually it all made its way down to the base and into my hand. The spit became my lubrication as I stroked his penis with a firm, tight grip.
I wrapped my wet mouth around him again, not removing my hand but joining in on the rhythm I had created. Up and down.
I stopped and grabbed his pants again and pulled them off his legs and down to the floor. I climbed in between his legs and pushed his legs up so that they were bent in from of him.
I held his dick again and stroked it as I spun my tongue around his balls, taking one in my mouth and sucking on it, then switching to the other. I ran my tongue from his balls up the underside of his penis, back and forth, spit gathering and wrapping itself around his sack and my tongue eager to lick it back up.
He stopped me and placed his feet on the ground and stood up. He lifted his shirt up over his head and let it fall gently to the floor. I looked up at him, still on my knees from the couch, and then he reached his hand out to me and said, "Come on."
I grabbed it, my fingers finding their place between his as he led me back to his room. He stopped in front of his bed and turned back to face me. I pulled my shirt off and then reached my hands behind my back to unclasp my bra. I liked that he stood there and watched me. He looked down at my breasts as they fell out of the cups of my bra and continued to watch as I pushed down my jeans and let them hit the floor.
He pulled me close and kissed me before he started to move around behind me. He kissed my lower neck and I closed my eyes to take it in and then he pushed me down onto the bed.
He took his fingers and slid them into the band of my underwear and pulled them off me as I laid my face and breasts on the mattress. He climbed on top of me, straddling my legs, his penis now resting between the cheeks of my ass and his hand wrapping itself around my ponytail. He pulled it, lifting my head from the bed up to his mouth, and he said, "I've missed this."