Missed Opportunities  

sunshadowcat 44F
8 posts
3/4/2006 1:16 am

Last Read:
3/8/2006 4:39 pm

Missed Opportunities

We’re both a little drunk. Your party is over and, as usual, I stay behind to help you clean up. I pick up bottles and rinse them out, you gather up napkins and cups and toss them away. Recycling and garbage go to the refuse room, as you call it. Then you and I stand, side by side, washing the dishes. I make fun of you, as usual, for not replacing the broken dishwasher, and you, as usual, tell me the two of us work better than any machine. We laugh and talk, as usual.

Except it’s a little different this time. I can tell you’re tense. I’m always a little tense around you. We’re such good friends, it’d be awful to lose you just because you’ve found out how much I want you, how wet I get just standing there, next to you, so I hide it, laugh and joke and pretend your friendship’s all I want. You’ve always been relaxed, joking: my funny, teasing, best friend. Except tonight. You stop talking, and then stop washing the dishes entirely, leaning down on your hands as you stare at mine in the soapy water. I ask you what’s wrong, but you don’t say anything, you just stare at the soap bubbles, gripping the counter with your large, well-manicured hands. I stop washing the dishes, and turn your face towards me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Other than I just got dish soap on your chin.”

You eyes are so dark, and I forget my hand is dripping water and soap on your shirt. I can feel my heart thumping in my chest, and my nipples tingle and grow hard, and my pussy clenches and grows warm. I want you so much, so very damn much, your hair mussed up from the party’s farewell hugs, the slight stubble on your cheeks and chin. You stare at me like you've never seen me before. I can’t fathom what’s wrong, but I’m terrified that if I don’t pull away now, I might do something I regret, so I turn back to the dishes.

You breathe in quickly, step over so that your crotch is pressed into my right hip, and hold me close. You pant a few breaths into my hair. I shake, I want you so much. You put your warm hand on my chin, and turn my head towards you, as I had yours. Only, instead of asking a question, you kiss me, softly, on my lips. I shudder, and my knees give out. I can’t believe you kissed me, after all of these years. Your eyes search mine, briefly, and you must have seen what you wanted, because you turn me in your arms, crushing my body against yours, and kiss me harder. I open my mouth to yours, and your tongue slips into my mouth, sliding around expertly. God, you know how to kiss.

My body is weak against your probing kiss, and you have to hold me up. I can no longer hold myself up with my legs, so you push me against the counter with your hips, grinding your crotch against mine. I can feel you growing hard, and I moan against your kisses. Your hands wander, finding my DD breasts. You hold them, squeeze them, massage them. You pull back from our kiss, panting, and say, “God, I’ve been wanting to touch these since I first saw them.”

I laugh, raise my arms, and pull you back down into a kiss. Your fingertips rub against my nipples through the fabric of my shirt and my bra. I groan. Your moth wanders away from my mouth, down to my neck. Your hands wander beneath my shirt and you begin massaging my breasts again. I life my arms up, and you pull my shirt over my head. Your mouth wanders down to my right breast, kissing and sucking the flesh my bra exposes, while one hand continues to massage my left breast. Your other hand wanders down my stomach, then covers the crotch of my jeans. Your mouth covers my right nipple through the bra and I can feel your tongue dance through the fabric. My hands clench on your shoulders and my hips buck forward. You laugh low, look up at me, and massage my wet crotch though my jeans.

“Good lord,” you say, your eyes wide, “are you wet already?”

I smile slightly and whisper, “I’m always wet when I’m with you.”

You freeze for a moment, and I’m afraid I’ve said too much, but then you smile, a wide, shining grin, and you laugh.

“I’m such a bloody fool. I’ve wanted you as badly as you’ve wanted me, and I’ve done nothing about it until now.”

I blush and say, “Well, I never said anything.”

You chuckle, and continue massaging my pussy, rubbing up and down with your strong hand. “I’ll make up for it tonight, I promise.”

I blush, then gasp, because your hand is pressing harder and your mouth is sucking my nipple.

“Please,” I say. “Please. Take me upstairs. I want you in my bed.”

You stop, look at my flushed face, considering. Then you stand up suddenly, your hardness pressed against my damp jeans, and you kiss me. You begin thrusting, and we dry-hump against the sink. I cry out and wrap my legs around your waist. You pound me, pound me, and I’m begging, “Please, please, take me upstairs. I need you… I need you in me. Please.”

You wrap your arms around me, lift me up, and carry me to your apartment door, where you kiss me again. We stumble up the flight to my floor while you unfasten my bra, and you barely wait for me to unlock the door, let us in, and close the door behind us before you toss my bra to the floor and start to unzip my jeans, sucking on one nipple, then the next. I drag you to my bedroom, and we fall back onto my bed.

You kiss and suck my breasts. My hips buck beneath you as I groan, “Please, please.” You pull off my jeans, toss them to the floor, then continue to suck my nipples, one, then the other. I press my huge breasts together and you bark a laugh of joy to find that you can suck both nipples at the same time. Your tongue tickles and teases as your right hand moves back down to my pussy. You rub my sopping wetness through my panties, which are slick with my juice.

“Please,” I breathe. I try to pull off your shirt, but I’m shaking too hard. You take it off while I unzip your pants. “I want you naked,” I say. “I want to feel your naked chest pressing down on me.” You groan quietly then help me pull off your pants and boxers, and there I see it, your glorious cock. I gasp at the size of it, then lick my lips. I want to put my mouth on it, but you’re too busy poking your finger into me through my panties.

“I wanna make you cum,” you say. I turn my body on the bed so that my pussy is propped up by the pillow and my head is closer to your cock. I don’t let you pull off my panties because I don’t want to be distracted from what I want to do. I lick the head of your cock quickly, like tasting an ice cream cone. You gasp, and stare at me. I think of telling you how much I want your hardness in me, but decide to show you instead, licking the shaft and balls, taking head and shaft into my mouth and hands, sucking and teasing with my tongue, pumping up and down. You’re too big for me to take all of you, but I love the taste of you and try to take in as much as I can. All the while, you’re playing with my pussy, eventually pulling off my sopping wet panties, and running your fingers around, over, and in my folds, tickling my clit with a teasing finger.

“You’re so fucking wet,” you gasp as I pump my head over your crotch. You dip one, then two fingers into me, running your thumb over my clit. I pull back from you and gasp. “Cum,” you say. “Cum, cum, cum.”

I turn and look up and you, your hot cock pressing against my throat. “I can’t cum,” I say. “I can’t cum unless….”

You look at me, worried, you hand working at me until I’m shaking too hard to even think of taking you in my mouth again.

“I need a cock inside of me to cum,” I confess.

You eyes widen and you raise your eyebrows. Your fingers tickle the inside of my pussy while your thumb runs slow circles over my swollen clit. You smile slightly and ask, “How do you masturbate, then, unless you have some boy toy I didn’t know about.”

I blush even harder, then glance at the drawer next to my bed. You pull your wet hand out of me, pull open the drawer, then look back at me, eyes even wider. “I didn’t figure you were the type to have toys.” You pull my dildo out of the drawer.

“I told you, I can’t cum without a cock inside of me. That’s what I’ve been using all of these years, when I couldn’t have you.”

You look my dildo over and say, “Lucky prick.”

I laugh and tell you that I named the dildo after you. “I’ve been calling out your name for years,” I say.

You smile slowly, press the tip of the dildo against my clit, then slide the tip down to my wet hole. “I’d like to watch that,” you breathe. Then you thrust the dildo up to the hilt into me, and I cry out. You thrust the dildo, again and again, my hips bucking up. I can hear the wet sounds of it slamming into me as you slam my dildo into me. I move my hand to my clit, but you brush it out of the way and begin to rub my clit in fast circles as you thrust the dildo into me, hard. I cry out, and you can tell I’m about to cum. I can’t even speak, I’m just screaming and creaming and then I cum, calling out your name over and over.

“Enough of this,” and you throw the dildo across the room, flip around, and pull my hips up. I pant and stare at you. “Please,” I say. “Please. I need you in me. I want you in me. Please.” You put the tip of your cock on my sensitive clit and I gasp. You slide the tip of your cock inside my folds, following the path you took with the dildo. You stop when you reach my still-trembling hole, just barely pushing the head in. You look at me, kiss me hard, then slowly slide into me. At first you slowly and shallowly dip into me. You’re bigger than my dildo, and even after fucking me with the dildo, I’m still a little too tight for you to slide in easily, in spite of my sloppy wetness. I pump my hips up, wrap my legs around your waist, and beg you for more. You comply, dipping in further, slowly, slowly, always making me beg for more.

“God, you feel so good,” I moan. “Please. Please. Deeper. Deeper.” You dip deeper and deeper until you are pressing against my very depths, and pushing further. I love to feel your weight against me, and I tell you. I love how hard and long and wide you are, and I tell you. You feel so good, and I tell you. But you still make me beg. You thrust all the way, your bones grinding against mine, and hold it there. I’m so close to cumming again, and tell you. You grin, and I can tell this is what you’ve been waiting for.

“What do you want?” you pant, and I can tell you are as close as I am.

“Fuck me,” I say. “Hard. Hard. I want you deep and hard.”

You pull out until just your head is inside me, then thrust, hard, deep, all the way. Over and over, you slam into me. I scream your name as I cum so hard, I make it impossible for you to keep thrusting, so you hold yourself in my deepest point. I cum so hard, I squeeze your cum out of you, and you cry out, cum pumping out hard, then collapse on top of me. We’re sweaty and hot, and our juices are sliding out of me into a pool. When I catch my breath, I tell you I need you to turn me over. You roll off of me, then turn me onto my belly. I get up onto shaking knees and elbows and present my quivering pussy.

“Fuck me like a dog,” I say. “Fuck me like a dog.” You laugh, and in fifteen minutes, you’re inside me again, fucking me hard. I move your hand holding me against you to my belly so you can feel you pushing through me. We cum again and again. We’re still cumming, night after night after morning after afternoon, my mouth on you, you pumping me until we both scream. No one fucks me like you do. You’re even better than I’d imagined, and you’ve more than made up for those years of missed opportunities.

MONA_14 31F

3/4/2006 12:20 pm

I enjoyed reading your blog and wish that you are our Friends

whitelion20061 37M
54 posts
3/4/2006 12:52 pm

hello sunshadowcat.you sound so inteligent and attractive,not to mention horny.your bod looks inredible,your puss = edible.You look delicious,almost to good 2 b true.Are you?

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