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The Night Begins
The Night Begins
I was lying on my back on Cass's king-sized bed; my hands were behind my head, cuffed to her headboard. My legs were similarly restrained, leather cuffs linking me to the footboard. The bonds were a little loose, since at my height I pretty much filled up the length of her bed, but the idea of the restraint was the important thing, not actual immobility. Both Cass and I had taken turns in variations on this position in the past and trusted each other, but I was a little nervous today: Cass had hinted that she had something special in mind tonight.
I heard her re-enter the bedroom. I blinked against the heavy blindfold covering my eyes, but she had been careful to not leave any crack through which I could see. I had been hard since Cass had undressed and restrained me, but knowing that, unseen, she was looking over my naked body made a throb of stronger arousal stiffen me further.
The truth was, no one had ever aroused me as much as Cass. We had known each other for a few months and had become friends before we started dating, but for some reason, even though I really enjoyed her personality and found her to be quite sexy, I had never really considered her as a possibility. The obvious reason was that at 51, she was almost exactly twenty years older than me. But she was a youthful fifty-one, stylish and brash, and I had abruptly realized how much I desired her while we were out getting drinks. Not being one to leave such a strong desire unacted on, I attempted to kiss her good-night when we parted at her car that night.
We did not part that night; that night, we discovered how powerful our sexual chemistry was. And our sexual compatibility: though she was barely half my size physically, Cass easily established herself as the sexually dominant one between us, and I was happy to submit to her desires. Her body was incredibly fit for someone her age, and I learned to worship it. I'm not sure what I was expecting when we tumbled into bed that first night, but if the average sexual peak ages are true, then the men who knew her in her mid-thirties must have been exhausted. Cass was insatiable and tireless: I would please her with my mouth for an hour or two before we fell asleep, only to have her wake me up thirty minutes later demanding more. Not that I minded: far from it. Early on in our relationship, she had called me after a long day of work and bluntly told me that she expected me to come over and give her an orgasm or two to help her unwind. I had always had an oral fixation, but from then on I embraced it completely, finding with Cass a shared ecstasy as I used my mouth to bring her off whenever she wanted it--which was often.
Our friendship grew with our sexual intimacy and, as these things happen, eventually grew into love. Only recently had we opened to each other in this way. It was after another long evening of love play, as we drifted off to sleep together. We found ourselves embracing in the dark, in a way that felt new; our lips clung together in an extended, excruciatingly tender kiss. When we released each other's mouths, words tumbled out, hers and mine. We were suddenly fully awake again, rediscovering each other's bodies with a terrible urgency, realizing a deeper intimacy as I penetrated her, and moaning each other's names as we orgasmed together.
Something had changed with that mutual profession of love; it was if by ceding those emotions to me, Cass had also withdrawn somewhat from her sexually dominant role. Where I had once dropped to my knees to please her shortly after entering her house, her not even bothering to undress but simply raising her skirt in demand, it soon became just as common for her to be on her knees, her practiced mouth working my arousal until I burst into her throat. One difference did remain, though: in the past, on many occasions I had pleased her without reciprocation, but whenever she now fellated me, I still made sure that she was not left unfulfilled.
Soon, though, we began to drift back toward her dominance, by mutual accord, and now, a few weeks after our admittance of love, she had regained her aggressiveness, binding me to her bed with the promise of something new. What it was, I had no idea, but I throbbed with anticipation as, unseen, she approached me.
The first clue was the feeling of her small hands buckling a narrow leather collar around my neck. I couldn't help but laugh, but her mouth on mine stopped my laughter.
"If you're going to laugh," she whispered, "then I won't take off the blindfold, and you won't get to see me."
"I won't laugh," I promised.
"You'd better not," she shot back, "or I won't untie you tonight, either. Maybe not for a couple of days."
"Now I really won't laugh."
"You'd better not even want to laugh."
She pressed her lips lightly to my cheek, then moved them an inch and kissed me again. Gradually, she covered my entire face with those little kisses. When she had finished that, she traced her tongue around the outline of my lips as her warm hand lightly gripped my painfully hard cock and began to massage it slowly.
I groaned and twisted, but her bonds held me in place. Her mouth dropped to my throat, down to my shoulders: she was repeating the pattern on tiny, light kisses all over my torso, working her way down to my stomach. She didn't miss a spot, covering even my legs with the wet contact, taking what must have been fifteen minutes before returning her mouth to mine for a prolonged, harder kiss. I knew well by now the way the taste of Cass's breath changed when she was deeply aroused, and her breath now filling my mouth was as hot and deep-lunged as I had ever experienced from her. She didn't need my breath to tell my arousal, of course, though I'm sure it matched: throughout the carpet of kisses she had given me, she had held my firm cock in a loose grip, not really doing much with it, just keeping the contact.
Now Cass began to be attentive to my cock in earnest: with long, slow strokes, she stimulated its length. I was large enough that she had to adjust both her manual and oral skills to better suit me when we began dating, but by now she was an expert with my body--and especially expert at raising the level of my arousal without bringing me nearer to climax.
She also had learned early on one of my peculiarities: my nipples were extraordinarily sensitive, so that I was able to orgasm just from her mouth on them. Now she also began to pay closer attention to me here as well: her warm mouth dropped to one and fastened there, suckling, her tongue dancing over its sensitive tip. She did know better than to spend too much time there, though: five minutes on each nipple was plenty, or else I was likely to finish in her hand, and it was already obvious she intended for this to last for a while.
Soon she shifted again, removing both her mouth and hand. I could sense how she was moving, realizing that she had straddled my chest and was knee-walking toward my face. Then I felt her legs kneeling on my upper arms, and realized that at least her lower legs were encased in leather boots. I didn't have much time to think about that, though, because the motion had brought her fragrant mound directly above my face. Her scent was heavy, musky, filling my nostrils. She was very aroused; my mouth was watering.
Cass's hands tangled in my hair, holding my head down, and she spoke: "Don't try anything. Just lay there and let me act."
I couldn't have responded had I wanted to: as soon as she finished speaking, she pressed down, firmly kissing my mouth with her lower lips. She was flowing copiously, and I could feel that she was newly waxed. I felt something else, too: more leather, this time narrow bands on either side of her swollen lips, indicating to me that she was wearing something crotchless--fetish gear. I desperately wanted to see her, see what she had worn for me. But I couldn't, and there was an even more pressing need: her aroused vagina against my mouth was irresistable. I slipped my tongue out, penetrated her, tasted her.
Cass gasped; her body responded to my hunger. She rubbed herself hard against my mouth; her fingers clutched my head even tighter. But, suddenly, she lifted herself off of my face.
I told you not to," she panted. "Not yet."
"Okay, I won't," I murmured back, disappointed. "Promise."
She kissed me again with her second mouth, but this time didn't linger there. She moved herself across my face. gently stroking my skin with her wet arousal. She dampened my cheeks, my forehead--her body moved. I felt her lips glide across my shoulder, drift down to my chest. I gasped. She was repeating the carpet of kisses, only this time she was using her pussy, covering me with her juices, stimulating the hard nub of her clitoris againt my exposed skin.
Again she focused on my nipples: still limber, she managed to arrange herself so that, spread, she was able to manipulate my erect sensitivity with her puffy lips. I groaned at the sensation of her clit grazing the tip of my nipple; I felt her slip two of her fingers between them, then lift those fingers to my mouth, allowing my to taste her again.
As she moved to rub herself on my thigh muscles, Cass again gripped my cock, which I knew was surely dripping with pre-cum. As she slid her dampness down to my calves, I felt her hot breath wash over the tip of my penis. Her tongue flickered against it, clearing away the sticky fluid. Then her mouth encircled me, tightened around my shaft, slid down as her tongue undulated against my swollen head.
She did not let me enjoy that for long, though. She had finished marking my body with my scent, and she moved back toward my head again. Again she kneeled above my face, and again her deep musk filled the air above me.
"Do you want to kiss me now?" she whispered.
"I do, Cass."
"I don't know. I think you should beg for it."
"Please, Cass. Please let me taste you."
"I'm not convinced you really want it."
"I really do. Please, use my mouth. It's yours. I want to please you."
"Hmm. Maybe you think you do, but I'm still not convinced. Don't you want me?"
I blurted out: "No, I don't want to. I need to."
"Well," she murmured, "if that's the case, maybe I shouldn't keep you waiting."
She didn't. This time she gave in to the sensations as she sealed my mouth with her pussy. I probed her deep, traced the outline of her lips, suckled on her swollen clit. She was in motion, too, grinding herself against my jaw, moving herself to guide my tongue to where she wanted to be pleased. That was all exploratory, though: soon I settled to the serious business of getting her off.
Cass had brought herself near climax already, and her first orgasm came quickly. It was explosive: her thighs pressed together on either side of my head, trembling. I felt then that her boots came all the way to mid-thigh, and again I wondered what else she was wearing. But I knew that time would either reveal that or not, and I focused on making her orgasm complete, enjoying the groans and burst of profanity that often accompanied her climaxes. I knew exactly when to back off and let her denoument be as blissful as her climax, and exactly when to renew the more urgent motion of my tongue to lead her up toward another climax.
Cass's second orgasm was not long in coming, either, though it was not as violent. She simply trembled against me and sighed my name into the darkness. This time, I slipped my tongue deep into her ready well and felt the rhythmic waves inside.
As that tapered off, Cass slid off my face and laid on top of my body. Now I could feel more of her garb: her torso was also encased in leather, but her small breasts were not: I could feel their soft skin and diamond-hard nipples against my chest.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"You're welcome," she answered, kissing my over-heated mouth, savoring with her tongue the sticky sap she had left all over my face.
She shifted again, sliding farther down my body. Her dampness pressed against the engorged tip of my cock. She lifted her hips, and with one easy motion swallowed me. We rarely had "quickies": a smaller woman, Cass had difficulty accepting my girth without being very aroused. Even then, it often took a few thrusts to open her enough to take me. But on rare occasions, like this one, she was far enough gone that she took my entire length without a hitch.
The words burst out of me in a groan: "I love you, Cass."
"No," she corrected. "I love you. You worship me."
"I do," I conceded.
Her hands finally removed my blindfold, and I blinked, trying to focus, blinded by even the low light in the room. She sat back as I focused on her.
"Damn, woman,' I gasped. "You are so sexy. . ."
She was indeed wearing thigh-high boots. She also wore a leather thong that left her hairless mound exposed, and a leather bustier that framed but did not cover her breasts, which were so small they had little room to be unfirm.
"I knew you'd like it," she smiled, beginning to move up and down on my cock.
"Why do I have the feeling that's not a new outfit?"
"I only show this side of myself to people I trust. I do have a conservative image to uphold, you know."
"Not with me," I answered.
"I know that. Watch me. Watch me and know that I'm as much yours as you are mine."
"You're all mine, then."
"I am," she smiled.
She placed her hands on my chest to steady herself and began to fuck me in earnest. It was heaven, watching Cass moving on top of me, her face flushed with pleasure, feeling her familiar vagina surrounding my cock, pleasing both of us. I bucked up against her, shaking her small frame, forcing gasps of delight from her with each full penetration.
"Don't you dare," she panted, "cum before I do."
I needed the warning: I was dangerously on the brink, but I focused, holding it back, biting my lip, desperate that her pleasure be complete.
Finally Cass shuddered. Her eyes screwed shut, and her mouth fell open. Her skin flushed a deeper red, and her nails dug into my chest. Her vagina contracted powerfully around my penis, and that was all I could bear: her orgasm beat in time with mine, the rhythm of her walls pacing the rhythm of my bursts as I emptied myself deep inside her.
She collapsed on me and nuzzled her sweating face against my neck.
"That was a great way to start the evening," Cass said.
7/7/2005 2:18 pm
I'm a gay man who has never had sex with a woman. But I fantasize about it a lot, especially eating a woman's pussy. I started a chat group for gay men who eat pussy but so far no one's responded. I read your story and, boy, did I get off good. Thank you for that! Really. I've seen your photo before and I think you're quite sexy as well. I appreciate how you really let a woman take control in this story, an older woman too, which is sexier still. I bet you're a great lover. I'd love to learn more from you about how to eat a woman's pussy, and I hope and pray for the day I get my first chance to please a woman that way. Yours, Hart|