This is part two of the tale I began here (oral at a sex party).
She touched herself in the soft glow of the TV in the back of the cab. Could the cabbie see her, her hand sneaking into her panties, her legs spread, the deeply contented look on her face? Probably. Her dress rode up to her hips, her thighs were creamy, even in the blue light.
I stroked my cock idly. She looked at me rubbing my cock longingly, as she stroked herself. It was about 20 minutes to her place, and we were in her door. She gave me the grand tour, and we climbed up to her loft. Once there, she began playing with herself again. “Tell me more stories,” she said.
“No,” I replied. “You’ll never cum if I’m talking to you. Just do your thing. Don’t pretend I’m not here, but don’t worry about me.”
She rubbed her clit, fingering herself, slowly stroking, pressing, using both hands. I was nude, next to her, my cock in my hand. I stroked, she rubbed. Her eyes rolled up, then closed. She started going faster, faster, and she clearly was getting ready to cum. Her face looked more and more intent, her hips were rolling just a bit, back and forth, and then – her thighs squeezed together, pulsing, her moaning grew (much) louder, and… she came. It wasn’t that dramatic, but it was fucking hot – it was so long in coming, such a palpable relief for her.
And I was ready to go.
“Now,” I said, “climb on top of me.” She grabbed a condom (did she put it on me? did I? I can’t remember), and straddled my cock. She lowered herself gently on to me, and began rocking.
She knew first-hand of my self-control, that I only cum when I decide to, that I can go forever. Earlier, she had seen this in action, as she sucked my cock for an hour or more in total. My plan was to fuck her like this for a bit, then to flip her over and fuck her from behind. I wanted to pull her toward me by her long almost almost-strawberry blonde hair.
She rocked, as I grabbed her hips and pushed her first forward, then back, as I guided her on me, her breasts hung in my face, and I pulled her head down so we could kiss. I could feel the walls of her pussy against my cock as she moved, that delicious, moist, wet friction.
“Holy fuck,” I said. “I’m gonna cum.”
This isn’t exactly unprecedented for me – occasionally, I do cum quickly, without willing it. But it’s very unusual, almost always preceded by a ton of teasing, and perhaps, not having cum for a day or two previous. In this instance, I had cum only an hour earlier.
I could have stopped, could have pulled out and rested, and possibly brought myself to a place where I was more in control of my orgasm. But I didn’t.
Was it something about fucking her? About how close she brought me to fulfilling my redhead fantasy? About her pussy? Her perfect tits?
I can’t say – all I can say is, I came – explosively, almost instantly, filling the condom, saying, “FUCK! Fuck! Fuck!” as my cock emptied itself.
I have no particular explanation, but Jen seemed pleased – proud, even.
We lay there, in one another’s arms, for a few minutes, talking. I held her – she held me.