The Meetup

I couldn't believe what I was doing ... or could I? I was 24, a recent Arts graduate with a wonderful, loving boyfriend whom I also loved (I think), and yet I was walking through the lobby of a hotel to meet an old boyfriend, one I had never gone all the way with and still had a mutual crush on. My ex and I had messaged, flirted, talked about our respective sex lives, with increasingly more detail, until we agreed to meet, with 'no expectations' apart from catching up.

I suspect we both knew we were being naive, or coy, and that something might happen. That we both *wanted* something to happen. Ever since we broke up after school without consummating our intense young puppy love, we'd stayed in touch. I certainly had thought many times about what it would have been like with you, and had used a toy to supplement that thought more than once. You had told me you had thought about it too, over the phone, until I had become engaged.

And yet here I was, walking to knock on your hotel room door, wearing a simple pale blue summer frock, with a modest cleavage and hem at my calves, on the outside, but underneath wearing my favorite matching deep burgundy bra and knickers set that contrasted against my smooth, very light olive skin. They were my date underwear if I truly fancied a boy, and as often as not ended up on someone's floor (or pulled aside in a dark corner on one or two occasions). I do not wear heels particularly well, and finished the outfit with some low heeled vintage shoes to keep it simple and unfiddly.

Room 2013, you had last texted, ready to meet and greet me after nearly three years since we'd last seen each other. I wonder if you had deliberately booked a room high up, knowing I like the giddiness of heights, or you had plans for the balcony, too high up to be truly made out. I was in the elevator, stomach full of butterflies, a light inquisitive tingle slightly further below. I had freshly shaved my legs and keep my downstairs neatly trimmed most of the year round with a regular appointment at my favorite salon. I felt nervous, feminine, desirous, and ready to run or pounce, I wasn't sure which!

2013. I stood at the door, waiting a moment, before knocking. Nothing will happen that you don't want to, I whispered to myself. But if you have a good feeling, go with it.

You answered and there you were, collarless long sleeve with designer jeans, no shoes, not too tall at just under six feet. Still handsome, freshly shaved by the looks (good boy), and I could smell a pleasing, woody masculine cologne. Short, thick curly hair, lovely green eyes, warm smile. You looked like you were happy to see me. You told me to come in and, after closing the door, we embraced wordlessly for a moment. Nothing sexual, just old friends, and I loved the feeling of being in your arms again. I nestled in a little more and could tell that you had been working out in the years since we'd last seen each other. Your biceps hugged my ribs as you easily encircled me and I felt a strong, manly back with my own hands. I may even have let out a tiny, tiny sigh. It felt good.

We both had goofy grins on our faces and I think we both didn't quite know how to handle the situation at first. "Do you want to crack the minibar?" you asked me, and I said God yes. A serve of vodka and soda for me, the little bottle of Jack Daniels neat for you. There was a couch in the room, but you hauled yourself into the kind sized bed and sat up among the many large pillows. I put my vodka down and undid my shoes. I could have sworn I saw you taking a quick peek at my cleavage as I bent over slightly to take them off, and that tingle returned. There is nothing wrong with a subtle look. I climbed into the bed next to you, picked up my vodka, and clinked glasses. It felt safe and right to be next to you, natural.

We talked as nothing more than old friends for at least half an hour, several drinks in, catching up. Nothing sexual had been proposed or suggested yet, although we touched each other with familiarity, as exes left alone can do. I complimented your new arms and you flexed them for me, playing it up, while I Wrapped my small hands around a bicep and proclaimed them the biggest I'd ever seen. I felt good being silly and girlish again in your presence.

At one point, I lay my head on your chest, perhaps faking exhaustion, or signalling to him that I was ok with going further which I had suddenly realised), and he laughed nervously and said "Does this feel funny to you? I love you being here and I'm having a great time, but this does feel a little wierd: not awkward, just weird."

I lifted my head to giggle and agree. "I know, right! It's good to see you again too. But we said we wouldn't rush or do anything that felt wrong. It's ok." I had barely finished when he moved his head down, I moved mine up and to the side, and suddenly we were kissing. I had forgotten what a lovely kisser you were. Light lip contact to start, just introducing your lips to mine really, no urgency, no pressure, no tongue. Just a little moistness to lubricate the kiss. Your fingers brushed up my arm and gently caressed my cheek, as you moved away from my lips to the side of my neck, my throat, my cheeks. I love long, delicate kissing sessions to start lovemaking. Our eyes met and closed as you returned to my lips, tasting me a little more, opening your mouth a tiny touch more, still not insistent.

I ran my hands over your chest, feeling the muscle there, feeling delicate as the alcohol kicked in a little more. I knew I wanted this now. I felt desired, beautiful, safe, and suddenly very aroused. I gripped your bicep hard, feeding off your masculine body as I shifted under you more, sliding down the bed. I pushed my lips into yours harder now, poking just the tip of my tongue through my own lips. You met my tongue with yours, gently touching it, circling it, not pushing, just flicking your tongue under mine.

"You should take your shirt off." I whispered, and looked into your eyes again. You nodded and I sat back to give you room as you peeled it off. You had a lovely manly body, filled out after your teenage years. I knew that I would see the rest of you soon and felt a rush of warmth through my lower body. "Your turn", you said, and I got off the bed to slide my dress over my head, folding it over the back of a chair. I felt a little exposed and dived straight back next to you, worrying what you would think. "Fuck you are still gorgeous" you whispered, and I felt complimented that I'd driven him to a potty mouth. We kissed again, and I felt your naked upper body with my hands, while your own hands slid down my bare arms, down my back, gripping slightly as you felt me shiver, and caressed my stomach, just idly stroking me above my burgundy panties. I nuzzled your neck and felt a bit naughty. "Take your jeans off babe" I said.

Staying on the bed, you unbuttoned and unzipped your fly and thumbed your jeans down to your knees, kicking them off. Underneath you wore classic short men's boxers, buttoned, and I could see the shape of your penis under them, not fully hard yet, not soft. You threw your jeans off the bed and we re-embraced passionately. You slid a hand along my inner thigh, coming close to my warm centre, but not touching it, teasing me. I opened my thighs more, and slid my own hand down, gently brushing your hidden penis, gripping your thigh and squeezing more muscle.

I broke off a deep kiss, because I was ready to move on. I was moist, aroused, and so very warm. I kissed each of your nipples as I moved down your chest with my mouth, kissing your stomach. You laid back and let me move above you. Your body was not too hairy, not too smooth, and I nuzzled your light hairy trail at the bottom of your stomach to your boxed with my nose. I was gently stroking your penis through your boxers at this point, and you were hard. Shifting totally above your crotch now, I gently pulled your boxers down and over your penis, seeing your hard cock for the very first time as it popped out and you sighed.

Thickish, uncircumsized, and slightly bigger than my fiancee's, though I rarely care about such things, if my lover is skilful and particularly if he enjoys oral sex and is good at it. I stroked it gently a few more times, watching it twitch in response and move about, which still fascinates me in an immature, girlish way. Then I suddenly, gently engulfed your head with my warm mouth. You tasted gorgeous, very masculine, and your cock swelled in my mouth as I just held it there, feeling you, gently sucking. I rubbed under your glans with my tongue, feeling the sensitive ridge under there, slightly flicking the soft little hole at the tip, exploring your head with my tongue. I looked up to meet your eyes and yours were closed, as you lay back and gave in to me, running your fingers lightly through my hair. I moved my mouth down lower on your shaft, taking your cock further in my mouth, feeling the thickness of your cock slide past my tongue, careful to cover my teeth with my lips. Softly, gently, I moved my mouth up and down, just plain horny now and enjoying a new penis, with that fascinating combination of masculine hardness with the warmth of human flesh. You tasted quite nice and I suspect had washed it before I arrived (good boy).

I felt selfish and wanton and wanted to taste you completely. I switched gears slightly and added a hand to the base of your cock, allowing saliva to naturally come from my mouth to coat your hard shaft. Once slick, I moved my hand up and down to follow my mouth, locking my lips around your cock and sucking hard, feeling your foreskin in my mouth drag up and back to match my strokes. You felt truly delicious and I started sucking harder, now wanting to make you come. You moaned and grabbed my hair playfully in response, not pushing my head, just making intimate contact to match mine. My other hand cupped your testicles, full and high in response to my blowjob, and almost ready.

I rarely swallow on a first date if we sleep together, but I wanted to feel you in my mouth and started working toward that end. I concentrated on sucking the swollen head of your cock in and out, in and out, rapidly bobbing my head up and down while my hand fisted around your slick base and pumped you hard. After a few minutes, I felt your balls contract and you literally shouted "Fuck babe I'm coming I'm coming don't stop!"

Your cockhead became like a hard ball and suddenly your sperm, hot and thick and sticky, shot into my mouth. It sounds strange to say, but if I am very into a guy I find him coming in my mouth very feminine and intimate, almost more so than coming inside my vagina. Your balls and shaft pulsed a few more times, and more sperm shot after the first load. I moved my mouth back down your shaft so you were pumping directly into the back of my throat, and I gulped down everything you had shot so far before it could clump. It tasted thick and slightly acidic.

Knowing you would be very sensitive, I opened my mouth to make sure I wasn't sucking hard on your cockhead and just gently moved up and down. A few more hot, hard spurts of come came from the tip into my mouth, and I swallowed those greedily. I was completely drenched down there now, having made you come, and would be ready for my own orgasm soon.

As you softened, I let your penis fall out of my mouth naturally and snuggled back up to your chest, lightly stroking your spent cock. Your chin nuzzled the top of my head. "Did you like that?" I asked, and got "oh my god fuck yes babe" in response. I don't expect Shakespeare after an intense blowjob.

We lay there for a little while, while you recovered, not really talking, just enjoying being intimate. Eventually, he whispered "Do you want me to kiss you down there?" and I nodded back, ready. At some point I had lost my bra and freed my breasts, but still had my panties on. I turned to be on the bottom, on my back, and you began lazily trawling his tongue up the underside of one of my breasts, long slow licks, before flicking your tongue over my hard, smallish, bright pink nipples. I lightly pinched my other breast with my free hand and moaned in anticipation. You had a promising tongue and I hoped you were a skilful oral lover.

You moved to my other breast, licking slowly underneath to the top, taking my nipple in your mouth and flicking your tongue over it like a clitoris, feeling it harden in response. I was very horny now and gently pushed your head, hoping you would get the message. You kissed slowly down my stomach, to my soaked bright knickers. Grabbing either side with a thumb, you tugged them down, and i felt them peeling away from my very warm, very wet pussy as it was exposed finally. I am mostly an 'innie', my labia minora rarely peeking out unless I am very aroused or after good sex, and around my labia majora my own juice was smeared. My pussy was hairless except for a rough, mostly unshaped thatch at the top, above my clit. My clit is smallish and stays hidden amongst its wet folds most of the time.

You kissed my thighs on both sides, getting closer to my burning pussy, until finally you positioned your tongue at the very bottom of my hot cunt and dragged the flat of your tongue all the way slowly from bottom to top, sliding over my button still in its hood, which elicited a hot moan and a squirm from me. This felt sooooo good. Again, you went back to the bottom of my pussy and dragged up again, your flat tongue softly gliding over my slick wet lips and collecting my juice on the way. I heard you murmur "god you're delicious" and again felt complimented and horny. Someone had done a good job teaching you and I quietly thanked whatever previous girlfriend it was. After enough long, slow licks of my whole pussy, you moved up momentarily and centred your hot mouth over my clit, and started very gently exploring its hood with your tongue, delicately probing, moving around without rush, just enjoying the taste and feel of my upper pussy.

A few gently flicks of my clit with your tongue had me crunching my fingers in your curly hair and moaning. I moved my hips into your face and you sucked my clit just a little harder, and I think I literally thumped the bed in response. Not overdoing it, you moved back to long licks of my pussy, flicking my clit at the top, and every third or fourth stroke up you would stay a little while there, circling my clit with your tongue, flicking it gently. I pushed your head into my cunt and opened up my thighs wider, ready to come now.

I put my hands down near myself and stretched my lips out ever so slightly, to help expose my clit to your tongue. You took the hint and replaced my hands with yours, lifting my clit hood away slightly, so that you could flick my stiff hot button nearly directly. I was close now and started murmuring your name, begging to make me come. You had stopped long licks of my pussy and now focused solely on my clit, fluttering your skilled tongue over it. I felt my orgasm approach, coming hard, and pushed on the back of your head. You flicked even faster and faster and I felt my pussy flood with juice and my button turn impossibly stiff as I finally came. I had to push your head away from my clit as it was instantly too much, and shouted into a pillow my own obscenities and how much I wanted you.

You wiped your mouth on a sheet and snuggled up to me again, flushed and red with orgasm, sweaty and wet and reeking of good sex. I couldn't wait to have your penis inside me, many times, but for now we just snuggled and recovered, kissing and tasting each other.

We would be ready again soon...