Several times I tried to hide my eyes from the bright morning light: first by turning away, then by burying my head into the soft pillow. Eventually I recognized that any further effort would be pointless given the intensity of the star that begins our every day. When my eyes finally did crack open, I awoke to unfamiliar surroundings: the unfinished brick walls of a loft or an apartment that seemed to be well above the ground floor as there were no trees obstructing the sun from piercing through the huge windows. As I began to focus and my orientation began to center, I took notice of the sparsely furnished room, strewn with clothes -- some of them looking familiar as my own. I then detected the pleasant scent of the pillow. Perfumed? Or maybe the person who lives here just smells really, really nice. I was not yet fully aware when a fresh-faced brunette with the tousled hair flashed across the bed on her stomach to arrive just a few inches from my face.
"Oh, hello", I croaked in her direction.
"Good morning, sailor," she giggled. "How did you sleep?"
Sailor?! What the hell did I do last night? "I think I slept pretty well." Oh, crap, did I drool? God, no, please no... My hand scrambled to feel the corner of the pillow where my head had been... whew, no wet spot. "And you?"
"I slept like a dream," she replied, beaming a huge smile that brought as much brilliance as the light outside.
Mmmmmwow you are glorious, I thought. Now... how did I get here?
I rubbed my eyes, yawned, covered my mouth hoping my breath didn't stink like a fraternity bathroom after a hazing, and cranked a disconcerted smile back at her. She stretched her lithe body like a cat, arching her back, rolling over and stretching her legs skyward individually and then wrapping her arms behind her knees to bring them close to her body for a squeeze. As I spectated there was only one thought in my mind: How can I make sure I get here again?
Slowly rolling onto her knees, she unfurled herself on the bed like a time-lapsed film of budding ferns, her eyes half-concealed by the cascade of her mussed shoulder-length mane. She closed them for a moment as her hands glided up her sleek waist and ribs to her shoulders. Transfixed, I watched her fingers slalom back downward caressing her neck, her chest, playfully circling around her full, pouty breasts and across her flat stomach. She turned and with her eyes peering over her shoulder, traced the lines of her body with the tips of her fingernails, exciting her skin and my imagination. Both her hands edged toward her ass, pausing at her tight lobes to squeeze hard enough to leave a momentary hand print, then she lifted from her knees slightly and parted her cheeks subtly exposing her tender pussy. And with a playful smack on her left cheek, she flung the comforter up and dove under it.
It floated down over her like a falling snow with her grin, as knowing as the Cheshire Cat, the last thing to disappear. She burrowed between my legs. I felt both her hands caress my thighs and slide softly, slowly upwards. The blanket lifted slightly and I could see her shadowed grinning face peering toward me with my cock cupped in her hands.
It was beginning to come back to me... I had arrived in town yesterday to meet her. We had met online months before, and had discovered over time that we had a lot in common, so much so that we took a chance on meeting. At first it had been awkward -- I mean how does one start a conversation with someone you've already seen naked and had virtual sex with? It's not like you can start with "hi, what's your name?" But she was really smart - not all that surprising given how much she had intrigued and beguiled me in our online conversations and email exchanges. To her credit, she had scheduled us to attend a party where we could both relax and get comfortable. We would be among her friends, in familiar surroundings where she wouldn't feel any pressure. She could just sit back and observe how I handled the situation, and inject herself when and where she felt comfortable. Fortunately for me, she must have felt very comfortable as we giggled, cavorted, snarked, touched and canoodled through much of the evening. The last thing I remembered was some sort of drinking game where I lost count of how many I had... and then everything after just dissolved into fog. I had never been drunk before, but given my current situation I wondered why I had wasted so many years avoiding it.
She gently licked my soft penis like a soft-serve ice cream cone, first swirling her tongue around it and then gave it a long, sensual lick toward the head, finishing with a playful flick of her tongue.
"Wow, that's umm... very... very nice," I stuttered.
"I love how heavy it feels in my hand. It feels like a fresh pork tenderloin," she purred.
"I thought you didn't eat meat," I replied.
"I eat some," she smirked before sucking the head into her mouth, and pushing it out again with a playful tongue lashing. "And I love how soft it feels against my face," as she rubbed the shaft against her cheek and across her chin and mouth, gently kissing it as it passed over her lips.
She again sucked the head into her mouth, and then lifted her face, slowly stretching my cock with only her suction holding it, momentarily, before relenting and letting it flop between my legs. She wrapped her fingers gently around it and slowly moved her hands up and down.
"I have to admit I don't remember much about last night," I gritted, trying to contain the pleasure.
"Oh really? Do you remember this?" With that she swallowed my awakening cock completely, tongued my balls and then out again with a little teary-eyed cough.
"Mmmm, I'm, ummm, I think, ummm, did it go something like this?" and I grabbed her hair and thrust myself quickly back into her mouth. She opened her throat wide and let me slide in as far as I could go. I began slowly fucking her mouth. Every several thrusts, she would choke out my cock, covered with the slimy spit of her deep throat, stroking it fast and hard until her hands were covered in her spit. She cupped and fondled my balls, squeezing and pulling them, then smoothed her viscous drool all over them like she was oiling focaccia dough. And as the spit began to dribble down and tickle my ass, she began to play with it, manually urging me to lift my pelvis closer to her face. She then slipped the tip of her finger into my ass.
"Mmm, I don't remember that."
"You will," she gagged.