He burrowed his face in my sizeable cleavage and started licking and sucking on my nipples. I made little gasps, which I hoped sounded sexy, and took note of his sucking techniques so I could use them later on his own erogenous zones. For a second he stopped completely and I momentarily panicked that he’d suffocated in my cleavage, but he quickly came back with full force and was licking everywhere like a happy puppy.
His hand slipped towards my underpants and my hand reflexively jumped on top of his. He paused and looked up at me.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow all creased up.
“Oh, um, nothing.” I laughed nervously. “It’s just that you can’t go there.”
“I . . . don’t get it,” he said. “Why not? I thought you wanted to?”
“Oh! It’s not that,” I said. “It’s just that . . .” Why couldn’t I say the word “period”? I said it enough in my daily life but the one time I needed to say it aloud, my brain got all coy and refused to comply.
He looked at me questioningly.
“Um, it’s just, that, uh, Venus is visiting?” I finally said. He stared blankly and I mentally yelled at myself to stop being so awkward. Venus is visiting? Where did my brain get this stuff from? “I mean, I have my, um, lady time,” I said in a jokily posh voice, hating myself for not being able to say the word out loud.
A look of comprehension mixed with relief dawned on his face. “Right,” he said. “Well, there’re other things we can do to keep ourselves busy . . .” He grinned and leaned back in to kiss me again.
We carried on kissing and by now I was sure I was ready to take the plunge—quite literally. I was feeling tipsy and all the kissing meant I was running low on oxygen, so I took advantage of my head rush and pulled his boxers down. He jolted in surprise, and I realized I could have probably done that a bit more slowly and sexily, but I looked straight into his eyes like Gabby said and gave him such intense eye contact that I felt his penis literally expand against my thigh. I slipped my hand around it and gently moved it up and down.
Okay, this was fine. I didn’t have to worry about the pace because I was going to go down and sort that out with my mouth. I distracted him from my unrhythmic hand movements by excessive snogging, until I felt confident enough to venture down south.
He was sitting on the bed, and I had been half sitting on top of him and half draped over him, but now I stood up and bent down onto my knees. I gently pried his knees open and moved my head into the groin area. His pubes were shaved like the teacher’s from the Britney porn video.
He leaned back on his elbows, clearly making himself comfortable while I tried to ignore the cold wooden floorboards bruising my knees. I stared at his member. It was pink and long and hard. It looked like a normal length and size. I turned my head to the side, inspecting it, and decided there was nothing chod-like about it. Phew. It didn’t smell either, thank God.
I took a deep breath and prayed to Gabby, Queen of Blow Jobs, to guide me through this. I slowly released my breath and moved in. I put the tip of it in my mouth. He groaned in pleasure. Encouraged by this unexpected confidence boost, I started swirling my tongue around the tip, whilst making sure my teeth were nowhere near it. He almost screeched in pleasure, and I remembered that Gabby had said we had to mix things up a bit to make it last. I pursed my lips around my teeth, stretching them out so much it kind of hurt, and pushed more of him inside my mouth. I went right down to the end, which was called deep-throating. I didn’t gag—I was clearly a natural. I started moving up and down, as slowly and as rhythmically as I could handle. I tried to suck at the same time. As I sped up, I realized I wasn’t immune to gagging.
I started going a bit slower and didn’t go right down to the end. I put my hand round the base of him and used it for support. Every time my mouth got down towards it, it felt comfortable to see my own hand there instead of his pale, pube-less groin. Now he started to really moan in pleasure. I slipped my hand under his cock and felt his balls. Their texture was unlike anything I had ever touched. They were wrinkly and I could feel sparse hairs on them.
I carried on with my up-down movements, occasionally using my tongue, and when his breath quickened, he put his hands on my head, just like in the porno, and made me go faster.
I wanted to feel like an angry feminist and yell at him, or at least not enjoy it, but oh my God, I loved it. He was actually helping me out and telling me what he wanted. I wasn’t in it alone and he was making me feel appreciated and wanted. I let him guide me and bobbed my head faster and faster until his entire body tensed up and . . . he came. Inside my mouth. A gloopy warm liquid.