It was early after a late night when I greeted Palantilin. Being the wonderfully kind person he is, he’d put a large cushion on the floor so when I sat down beside where he lay on the sofa my butt had a soft perch. I’m sure that’s precisely the reason he put it there.
He put his hand around the back of my head and I cuddled his arm. We talked about everything and nothing. The conversations you have when your mind is still slipping into gear. The inconsequential nothings and everythings that show you what a person’s really like.
Palantilin is a little shit.
But a likable one.
“As lovely as the cuddling is,” he said, in that soft, persuasive tone of his, “I think it’s time you suck my dick.”
“I’m agreeable to that,” I said with a wink, rolling to my knees and leaning over him on the sofa. Oh, I don’t tire of the taste of him, the thickness of him in my mouth, the strong ridge around the head of him, the vein I love to follow with the tip of my tongue that runs along the underside of his dick which sits straight up. Points directly up to his cute lil belly button what is set in the sexiest, dip of a stomach. Rawr.
I do very much love how his fingers find my clit. I mean, it is very distracting and I tend to lose my rhythm a bit but his finger on my clit feels so fucking good. It makes me make the most fun noises too, vibrating moans and panting gasps as I try to keep my mind on the (blow) job at hand.
I might not be the most focused as I come, but I make up for it afterward. Palantilin didn’t complain anyway, I believe his orgasm was quite satisfactory.
As he lay on his stomach I lazily ran my hand up and down his back.
“You could do that all day.” he sighed happily.
“Well, maybe not all day, but I’m happy to do it for a while.” I ran my fingers over the topography of his back and rested my hand between his shoulder blades.
“I like this spot here, my hand just fits perfectly.”
And it does. My hand rests perfectly between the crests of his shoulders , there’s another couple of spots, just at the base of his spine, either side.
“I like these too. Not that I’m grading every bit of you.” I laughed.
I’m not the most natural of flirter. Sooner or later it gets awkward. Luckily, it seems Palantilin likes awkward. Embraces it even.
“Do you have nails?” He asked so I lifted my fingers so the tips rested on his back and dragged.
Palantilin moaned. “I like being scratched.”
So of course I obliged. Gently, deeply, slowly. I changed between scritches and gentle rubs and I illicited some wonderful noises from him. I really enjoyed giving pleasure so sensually. You might think Palantilin got the better end of the deal, but I got a lot of satisfaction from the reactions I aroused from him and getting to know his dips and lines, to caress his soft skin, that was a delight in itself.
When he turned over I continued my strokes and scratches. He has such a gorgeous chest. Slim, defined, beautiful and with one of those trails of hair that you read about in so many erotica books that ends just where his dick points to when hard.
I’m not a top, I definitely don’t have that urge to be in control but there is something wonderfully powerful about turning on another person. My gentle exploration of Palantilin’s chest was having quite the amazing effect on him. As I trailed my nails down, he would buck and moan and gasp.
After a while I’d let my fingers dip lower into the sticky pool of pre-cum on his stomach then even lower and ever so gently I caressed the tip of his erection. Until he was bucking and writhing and much more insistent on me paying attention to his cock.
Which I did, because I am a good girl.
I learnt the rhythm he liked me to stroke at then let him take control as I licked and hummed and lapped and kissed at the tip of him.
“You taste so good.” I groaned.
“Yes!” I exclaimed as he bucked harder and panted more deeply.
I held my mouth open and caressed him with my tongue until he came, with such soft grunts of completion it made me melt with gratification at his satisfaction.
We sat once more, my head on his stomach, his arm around my head. My hands on his arm and we luxuriated in the Sunday morning and each other’s company.
Easy and at ease.