The Softer Side

"Can you be here by 9 O'clock?" Mark inquired.
"Sure, I mean I'm not going to get dolled up or anything."
"Not dolled up? Why not?"
"Welll..we're just watching a movie"
"You don't have to wear a heels or anything, but makeup is always good." I heard something about a dress, but I couldn't make out if he wanted me in a dress or not in a dress.

I can't lie, I tend to get slack sometimes. As much as I liked getting gussied up, once I get comfortable with a person I tend to not get all glam when we're doing just random hanging around the house. I've done this to Teacher, and I guess I started doing it to Mark. I kind of thought he acted funny the other night when I was wearing just a big t-shirt and I made a mental note to never do that again.

But I was glad to hear he liked makeup. I've had boyfriends on either side of the fence, and I like the ones who want me painted pretty so this was a non issue.

In light of my grubby t-shirt episode, I decided that I wasn't going to dissapoint him and put on short jean skirt and a simple black sleeveless top. Nothing fancy, but definitely hot. I also didn't wear any panties, because all my cute ones were in the laundry.

We watched a good movie, sat next to one another, but nothing more eventful than a random graze of the leg. Later on we were looking up some stuff about the movie online and while he plucked away at the keyboard I laid on my stomach, facing him watching him type.

He turned around, we started talking about Robert Deniro and in the midst of my diatribe of the shame of DeNiro doing crap like "Meet the Fokkers," Mark make his way behind me and worked his hands up my skirt, to my pussy and without much warning, crammed his fingers in my cunt.
He worked me up until I was wet and then released his hand. "Do you want me to fuck you."
"But of course...."
"Leave your clothes on." Now this readers, this made me hot. I once read in a old girlie magazine I found in my parents room the text of a centerfold who said that she thought leaving some clothes on while she fucked was sexy. I've never forgotten that, nor her fisherman's knit sweater, Frye boots, and hairy 70s pussy.
He pushed my skirt up around my waist and entered me from behind. With only my ass exposed to him, I felt both sexy and vulnerable, and mildly naughty.
We usually fuck pretty rough, but tonight was slow and erotic and then a few bursts of hardnesses. We moved together in time, he holding my hands, tickling my back, nuzzling my neck like he's never done before.
"Who fucks you the best X?"
Sorry fellas, if you ask a girl that question you are going to always get the answer you want to hear "You." Now if that is true or not, that shall never be revealed. I am not one to dissapoint, and yes he is definitely one of my better lovers, so for the night, yes he fucked me the best.
"Wha do you like about me fucking you?" he whispered into my ear as we rode on one another.
"Your big thick cock," that I said and turned around enough to watch him fuck me and look up at him.
The music we were screwing is pretty obscure, so I won't mention it, but I'm not sure if it was purposeful, but there were a few moments where it seemed like we were fucking to the beat.
"Let's get the bra off of you" and with a fell swoop, my breasts were exposed, he toyed with my nipples as I felt the inital hints of orgasm. "You're about to come aren't you?"
He knew it.
His roomate, the prude, was home so I had to be quiet. It is not easy for me to be as such, so as I came I had to bite down on the nearest thing and that was his arm. While I didn't draw blood I left a nice sprinkling of teeth marks near his wrists. Unlike myself, he chose not to be quiet and let out a huge groan as his prick made the final slams into my cunt.
When it was all said and done, my skirt was drenched with sweat, as was both he and I and his bed.
It was nice to have a bit of a softness for a change, because it is going to make the rougher times ahead so much more pleasurable


Naughty Girl said...

I love when they know you well enough to know what those sighs and hitches in breathing mean and know exactly how to work that.

Sounds like a good night! Well, except for that prude roommate thing.

Taboo Couple said...

Great blog!