Wham-bam, thank you, ma'am.

I met up with my fellow tonight. We made a date to meet up at a pub, though we stayed there for barely two seconds. The reason being, neither of us are big on pubs. It just seemed like a good place to meet. So we went to his place for a cup of tea instead, and chatted along the way... he was a pleasant enough fellow, and not bad in the looks department. As we both have some French roots, there was a little common ground, especially as it turns out our roots are from similar regions, as well.

Things started to happen very quickly, actually. We were sitting on the couch with our mugs of tea, chatting, and before I knew it, he had scooted closer to me, draped one arm around my shoulders, and as I leaned forward to put my mug of tea on the coffee table, found his mouth against the side of my neck. Damn, I thought, good thing for him that I want to fuck him, or he'd be hurting in all kinds of ways right now. I turned to kiss him, and trailed my fingers down his chest as he carressed my breasts. My fingers encountered wiry chest hair as I ran my hand under his shirt and let my fingertips graze over his nipple.

We moved up to the bedroom very quickly afterwards, and I found myself very quickly peeled out of my clothes -- not that that means much, as I was just wearing my dress and my undies. I shrugged inwardly, and followed his example in getting him naked as well. Doing away with the bullshit works just fine for me, really. But again, I couldn't help but think how lucky this boy was to have found me, rather than a less sexually liberated girl. And, as previously mentioned, he was lucky that I wanted him. One man in the past has found himself forcefully thrown against my windowsill as a reward for unwanted advances.

Once on the bed, he started to finger me, apparently impressed with how slick and wet I already was. When he tried to rub my clitoris a little too directly ("Look at me, I know where the clitoris is, I deserve a prize!"), I politely told him to ease up.

Me: You don't need to rub my clitoris that directly.
Him: Bit sensitive, is it?
Me: (drily) Well, yeah, newsflash, all girls tend to have a sensitive clitoris.

Here's hoping that he will remember that with the next girl in his bed. He did take my words to heart, anyway, and I amused myself stroking his hard cock. He was a good size for me, just slightly above average, which was nice. I pulled his undies off him, and took him in both my hands, alternating between stroking both of them along his shaft, and stroking him with one while stroking his perineum with the other. I love the way when you do that, and the cock in question twitches, you can feel the way it's all connected. Beautiful. And he had a nice, sensitive one, which responded to me trailing my fingers over it as I gripped the base. Nice.

But I didn't feel like dragging out the somewhat limited foreplay. He did suck my nipples a few times, which was all well and good, but frankly, I just wanted him to fuck me. So, with his cock in my hand, and his fingers still plunged into my pussy, I slightly teasingly asked him if he planned to use that anytime soon. He took his cue and put on a condom, then got between my legs and slid his cock inside me. I groaned loudly and threw my head back: I really am one for the cock, there's no denying it. Fingers and tongues are all very nice, but in the end, it's a cock that will get me hot and bothered. He seemed to be enjoying himself, too: "God, you're good," he whispered as he thrust into me. I snorted inwardly at how easily pleased he was, considering that I was really just lying there like a starfish, being passive. I'm still sort of programmed to prefer riding, though it hasn't really worked too well with recent lovers, I have found. Besides, this one seemed perfectly happy where we was, and really, so was I. I was enjoying such a nice slick fuck, really.

As I came close to coming, I clarified how much noise I was allowed to make. As suspected, I had to keep reasonably quiet. I had to snort inwardly again when he said that he was enjoying the noise, as the gasps and occasional quiet groans I was giving were really only the very tip of the iceberg for me. But I behaved, and kept relatively quiet as I came. He slowed down for a moment, and had a moment of waxing lyrical about my eyes. They're quite a nice pair, sure. So I locked gazes with him squarely, and told him to take a good look, then. It seemed to satisfy him in that department, and I could let my eyes slide shut again as he continued to fuck me.

Him: Are you close to coming?
Me: (a bit drily) I already have once, actually.
Him: I'm so close to coming, it's dangerous.
Me: Go for it, it'll set me off either way.

So he sped up and thrust to his little heart's content, and came within a few moments. My hips rose to meet him as I came in response, my pussy clenching tightly around his cock. I had two definite peaks there, after which he pulled out. I still had my twitching and gasping aftershocks for a minute or so before I came down myself.

As soon as I was done, I decided to retrieve my abandoned teacup. He decided to be chivalrous and get it for me, which I thought was kind of cute. I still got up though, to have my post-shag piss... UTIs make me sad, after all. We then lay down together for a bit, me occasionally sitting up to take a swig of my lukewarm tea. We didn't exactly cuddle, but we lay quite close to each other, and he held both my hands. I do wonder how long this guy had gone without before I popped up like that. He certainly was one for the absolute basics, and doesn't seem to be the one-night-stand type, even if our courtship was rather brisk... an hour after we had met up at the pub, we had already finished shagging. The rest was just as brisk: he had to get up very early for work, and it was getting late, so he drove me back to where I had parked my car, and we said our farewells, parting with a quick snog. The whole thing had taken one and a half hours. He apologised profusely for being so rude and kicking me out, but he works in a place where it is actually essential to be alert, otherwise bad badness happens. I shrugged goodnaturedly and told him that was fine. It's not like I had any doubts that he liked me -- I can count at least five times throughout our quick date that he had waxed lyrical about how beautiful and all-round great I am, and he said he'd definitely love to catch up again.

I drove home mildly amused, although also still horny. Three orgasms is nowhere near enough to exhaust me, after all. But I do think I'll be going back for seconds. I suppose the tone of this entry does sort of convey the aloofness I maintained throughout tonight, but I did still enjoy myself, and it's been a while since I've encountered a penis roughly in the right dimensions for me. Don't get me wrong, I love cocks in all shapes and sizes, but I find them perfect around the six, seven inch mark. That's the kind of cock that gives me maximum stimulation without getting uncomfortable.

Plus, I do want to try riding this boy, and widen his sexual repertoire a bit. But I suppose that's just the reaction I get when it is blatantly obvious that I'm the more experienced one.

There is a sweetish scent clinging to my skin. It's a bit too synthetic-smelling to be his body scent -- in fact, I didn't notice much of that at all. I'm guessing it must be his deodorant or something.