Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Everybody’s over 18 in this story, FYI. Feedback welcome.
When I was young and discovered pornography (I mean the explicit stuff, not just female models posed in the altogether,) it was a life-changing experience. Not that it was cheap in those days, or easy to select items that lived up to the hype on the front cover. The magazines (see how far back I’m going?) were sealed in plastic, cost around $20 each, and it was a crap shoot if the material within bore any resemblance to the exciting pictorials on the outside.
I was drawn to cute and innocent-looking young women, doing surprisingly dirty things. The idea that a young lady my age or maybe a little older would suck cock in front of a camera was quite arousing, never mind some of the stronger things that were acted out. My favorites were magazine-length, glossy but not-too-polished depictions of couples engaged in multi-position lovemaking. It helped a lot if the cameraman had some flair.
And, inevitably, things would culminate in an erotic male come shot. Preferably, several angles of photography would be utilized to milk (so to speak) the most out of that moment.
No matter where the guy’s cum would land, it was important to me that the woman had an expression of ecstasy or at least contentment on her face, seeing her partner’s spunk adorning her breasts, backside, tummy….or, better yet, her face.
Now, there’s no analyzing anyone’s preference for this sort of thing. I can, for example, trace my fascination with the naked female posterior to the early, formative days of my sexual education, but coming in a woman’s face was something that hadn’t even been mentioned in the dirty books I’d read. Why it should have been such a jolt to my libido the very first time I saw it remains a mystery, but to me, a facial is simply the most joyously dirty image in the lexicon of pictorial sex, be it still-image or video.
Still, I knew it was primarily a fantasy. That is, not the sort of thing you’d expect a woman to willingly do for you, whether she loved you or not. The very fact that these images aren’t seen in “couples” porn, for instance, to this day, speaks volumes. Many, I’m sure, think it’s demeaning. Not me; the few times I’ve had the pleasure of doing this dirty deed in real life have only served to make me feel more affection for my partner and delight in her willingness to please me.
The first time for me was in college. By then everyone had a VCR and you could rent porn with decent-enough production values at any full-service video store. Therein lies my tale.
It was on a night when my roommate was out that a girl named Cindy called to see if I’d like to share a little wine with her. Cindy and I had an off-and-on thing but when it was cooking, the sex was torrid. Neither of us felt particularly possessive of the other, which was ideal for college; the real world and all its complications could wait.
So we were reasonably wasted on the wine and a little smoke I had stashed, making out at my place on the couch, with our tongues doing battle and our fingers finding all the best sensitive parts, when I unknowingly rolled a little to the left and bumped my hip into the “play” button on the remote control, the remote that had wedged itself between the cushions.
You guessed it: I’d gone and left a porn tape in the VCR, with the TV in black screen mode. Soon Cindy and I were distracted from working on each other’s crotches with our eager fingers by cheap music warbling from the TV, followed quickly by soft moaning. I tried to feel for the remote so I could quiet the thing, still not realizing what was queued-up, but finding myself too clumsy or high to be successful.
It was when Cindy turned her pretty face away from mine and stopped rubbing my hard-on through my jeans that the fog in my brain cleared. Her eyes were wide but not alarmed as she took in what was appearing on the screen, and it hit me then which tape I’d left in the machine: it was the one I’d last been jerking off to, a compilation of oral sex scenes culminating in facials.
“Holy shit, Jerry,” she muttered, and then giggled self-consciously. “If you’re wasting yourself on this stuff, maybe I should come over more often.”
I turned as the moaning from the TV became louder. There was a closeup of a pretty brunette milking a sizable penis with her mouth. Every few seconds you could see the tip of her tongue emerge and lave the underside of this dick. The guy was thrusting himself carefully in and out of her lips, almost in slow motion, as she looked up and dripped a little saliva down her chin.
I moved off of Cindy and took a deep breath. I’d never watched hardcore with a girl, had never worked up the nerve to try. In my mind, I was either about to be chastised (“Aren’t I enough for you, don’t I do the stuff you like?”), laughed at (how pathetic), or just plain given the silent treatment until I shut the damn thing off.
“Okay, I guess you caught me…” I muttered, feeling heat creep up my neck. “You know, sometimes–“
“Don’t I,” she replied, sardonically. casino siteleri “I grew up with three brothers, remember?”
I looked at her and saw expressions of amusement and leftover arousal on her face. I liked how her hair was mussed-up, just a bit.
“Oh look, you’re all red in the face,” she remarked. “Hey, I’m not out to embarrass you. Did you want me watch this with you, it’s that why you put it on?” Now, how could I expect her to believe I had no intention of sharing this with her, and had accidentally hit “play”?
On the screen the guy was moving faster and faster, in and out of the young lady’s energetic mouth. Both of us, I noticed, kept looking back at the TV and then at each other as we talked. A couple of quick insert shots of the guy’s overly-ecstatic face started to appear, so I knew what was about to happen.
I felt Cindy’s hand again in my lap, grasping me through my pants and bringing my lagging erection back into arousal. We started looking only at the TV. The camera pulled back a little to show the woman’s full face, not just her mouth. She really looked like she was enjoying it, even bringing a hand up to cup his balls and fondle them a little. The prick between her lips looked darker than before.
I put my left hand down Cindy’s jeans and under her panties as I luxuriated in the practiced way she stroked me through my slacks. Her thighs readily parted and my fingers found her sex, her moist opening and the sensitive flesh surrounding it. We stared at the TV and felt each other up.
At some point Cindy worked my johnson out into the air, I don’t know when. Probably it was around the same time I’d managed to work two fingers inside her and the heel of my palm had begun to work in firm, concentric circles over her clit.
Then the guy pulled his cock completely out of the woman’s mouth. She grasped it and started milking its length. The tip was all wet from her spit as she looked closely at it, inches from her face, and jerked it off. Her lips parted and the camera pulled back an inch or so more.
Cindy was jacking me off in earnest when I worked the tip of a third finger just down into the beginning of her ass crease. And then a quick shot of the guy’s face (looking like he was having a heart attack) was inserted on the screen, followed shortly by a closeup of just the woman’s open mouth and tongue as the swollen head of his dick emerged from the left side of the frame, clearly ready to burst.
Cindy grasped my erection firmly as the milky ropes of cum suddenly ejaculated from the man on the TV in rapid spurts, some of it entering the brunette’s mouth and coating her tongue while other spurts streaked her cheeks, the corner of her nose, her lips and even the side of her hair.
The camera pulled back a little more as the last of his climax dribbled directly onto the woman’s outstretched tongue. It was then that I noticed she’d never flinched, closed her eyes or looked anything other than happy that her lover had just covered her face with his joy juice. She even eagerly sucked on the tip of his spermy member to draw out the last of his stuff as the scene faded to black.
As another scene abruptly began (this time with two guys masturbating themselves over the upturned face of a smiling blonde) I held my breath, wondering how Cindy was taking this. She was clearly enjoying what I was doing with my fingers, since her hips had begun a small rotation movement, and her hand was smoothly pistoning my now-steely cock…but the look on her face as she watched was tough for me to read.
I guessed she was thinking about it, thinking about me, and making up her mind if she thought what she was watching was disturbing her. The only part of me she looked at right then was my dick, as she moved it through her hand. That was a good sign.
“You really like this stuff, this coming on a girl’s face,” she observed, matter-of-factly, rather than asking. Just as she said this, one of the guys on the screen grunted and made what sounded like a curse, then pressed the head of his cock against the blonde’s upturned cheek. The way the camera was angled, you could see the slit in his glans open and spurt an impressive amount of thick cum onto her face and the left edge of her mouth as he continued to stroke himself, almost all in one ejaculation, before he pulled away (as did the camera) and shot the rest of his climax along her neck and down onto her naked breast.
“Yes,” I admitted, surprising myself that I hadn’t pretended it was no big thing. Heck, Cindy hadn’t run out of the room on me, yet, so I guessed I wasn’t some monster in her eyes.
“When were you last, uh, watching this?” she asked, as the second guy emptied his balls on the woman’s still-smiling but erotically-soiled visage, spurting his cum from what seemed to be a foot away, in long streams.
“Yesterday,” I replied as I felt Cindy’s lower body press against my busy fingers. As though the “when” of my last watching this tape made any difference: what Cindy meant, of course, was…when had I last masturbated?
“I slot oyna guess I never paid real close attention to what a guy looks like, you know, what his orgasm looks like,” she said, none too articulate herself. “Some of them are real different.”
She may have been referring to the oversized cock that now appeared onscreen, a formidable penis recognizable to any veteran porn-watcher, belonging to one John C. Holmes. His fat, over-twelve-inch length was presently being stroked to orgasm by a tiny hippie-looking girl whose hands seemed overwhelmed by his prodigious size. The petite girl knelt on a bed as John stood above her being wanked, his cock tip rubbing against her forehead as it sheathed in and out of its foreskin, her small hands doing their best to get him off as she looked up at him.
When he came the girl directed the flow of his jism around her face by sluicing his writhing dick over her skin with enthusiasm, like it was a pleasant beauty treatment. Her charming little face was soon dripping with his cream.
“His just kind of dribbled out,” Cindy observed. “Is it ’cause he wasn’t so turned on?”
Surprised that she hadn’t remarked on the size of the legendary prick just now fading from view on the screen, I simply made a “don’t ask me” gesture with my free hand before putting it to better use by undoing the buttons on Cindy’s blouse.
“You do it,” Cindy suddenly announced, moving away from me and pulling my hand out of her pants. There was an excited look in her eyes. “I want to see you enjoy your fantasies, show me how you’d do it, if your fantasy came true.”
“Huh,” I replied, as the sucking and groaning sounds continued to come from the tube. My dick was throbbing there outside my pants, the moisture from Cindy’s pussy that clung to my fingers was cooling in the air, my girl was making no sense, and I had just uttered a reply worthy of Shemp Howard.
“You know, if a woman was to do everything you’d want. As if you were having a fantasy and watching a film like this, and, you know, playing with yourself while you fantasized, or something,” she continued.
I could see Cindy was kind of uncomfortable trying to describe this thing she meant. Either that, or the squirming around she was doing was from having an itchy pussy. I decided to jump in.
“So, maybe, if you were my fantasy woman and would do whatever I want,” I said, by way of reply. I was hoping this was what she meant…boy, was I hoping.
She worked this around in her mind for a moment. I guessed this wasn’t exactly the idea she’d first had, but she was game.
“Okay, yeah. But I also, um, want to see you, you know, touch yourself. Like you would if you were all worked up.” Then she sat back against the couch and chewed her lower lip. It was a fetching look, on her.
Her eyes went to the television in time to see a series of slow-motion ejaculations fly perfectly into the “o” between a woman’s professionally-Maybellined lips, and pool on her tongue. Only the final couple of spurts landed on her upper lip. The guy wiped his dick off on her chin.
“Only with your pants off,” Cindy giggled, pointing at my lap. We both laughed at that, and I suddenly realized that she wasn’t just making with the big talk. My mind was filling with possibilities.
As I stood to get out of my shoes and pants Cindy divided her attention between me and the TV. Despite the raw footage we’d been viewing together, my worried state had caused me to soften again a bit, so I was a little self-conscious measuring up to the big cocks that were paraded before her eyes, unloading themselves willy-nilly. I knew I was being silly, but if you’re a guy reading this you’ll know how I felt. If you’re a woman, forgive me for lacking the wisdom at the time to realize Cindy may have been comparing herself to the actresses, and feeling the same insecurity. I hope not.
“No, keep the underwear on for now,” she instructed as I started to reach for the waistband of my briefs. At my raised eyebrow, she blushed prettily and explained, “It’s just a little nostalgia.”
I sat back down on the sofa and she moved over to me for a kiss, her left hand immediately assuming its welcome place in my lap. I was busy thinking about how to start. When we broke the kiss I pulled back to look at her, but not so far as to dislodge her educated hand.
“I think I’d like you to strip for me, Cindy.”
“You would?” She sounded surprised.
“Yes. That would be one of my fantasies,” I grinned.
She looked at me for a moment. “Turn the volume down on that thing a little, will you? It’s all starting to sound the same.” She stood and gamely began to undo the remaining fastened buttons on her blouse.
“No, no, more slowly,” I instructed, “Like you’re teasing me.” I reached for the remote and toggled down the volume. “You want me to turn this off?” I asked.
Three giggling young ladies on the screen were in the process of getting their faces sprayed by one man’s copious orgasm — their foreheads, cheeks and lips glistening with his liquids canlı casino siteleri as he ejaculated seemingly over and over again, the illusion being owed to multiple camera angles being repeated in a rapid editing style.
“No, keep it on,” she said quietly. “It’s making you hot, right?” I felt like asking if it was doing anything for her, since she kept watching, but decided instead to keep my mouth shut.
Cindy doffed her blouse slowly, deliberately peeling it off as I’d requested. Underneath she revealed a cute white bra that looked like it came from an expensive lingerie store. I didn’t remember seeing it before, but maybe that was because it had been our custom to just rip off our clothes and have at it. She took her time undoing the clasp from behind, in the process pushing her medium-sized, shapely breasts out toward me, play-acting the stripper in a small way. When she finally pulled the bra away her tits swayed nicely before my eyes, and her puffy nipples boasted aroused, slightly pointed tips.
I used my thumbs and forefingers to feign a motion like I was pinching my own nipples, then gestured for her to do the same. Cindy shook her head slightly with a small smile on her face, then proceeded to do as I requested. She rolled her breast points until they stood pink and erect, clearly giving herself pleasure in the process. Afterwards, she caressed her tits like a lover might do. It was getting hot in the room.
Then she nodded to my lap with an arch expression on her face. Wordlessly I fished my cock fully out of the confines of my briefs and gave myself a few languid strokes. I wasn’t at full stand due to my self-consciousness, but I could feel myself growing that way in my palm as she watched.
“Your balls, too,” Cindy breathed. “Let’s see them.”
While I awkwardly reached into my underwear to fish out my sac we both stole a moment to eye the TV, and damned if there wasn’t a woman going down on a guy’s balls, right then! Or, I should say, going “up” on his balls: they were dangling into her wide-open mouth as she lay underneath him while he masturbated over her face. In moments he pulled up and directed the head of his prick to her mouth in time to deposit five or six speedy jets of cream between her lips. The woman’s throat worked, swallowing to keep up with his emissions, and then she wrapped her lips around his glans to accept the last of his load into her mouth.
“I think I’m starting to understand why you like this,” said Cindy. “It’s pretty dirty, but I can’t take my eyes off it.” She looked at me like maybe she’d gone a little too far in her confession and that I’d think she was as perverted as myself, or something. For me, I only got harder from what she’d said. . “I can’t take my eyes off you,” I replied, changing the subject. “I guess, so many times we’ve made it, and I thought I knew your body, but seeing you like this, showing off….you are really sexy.”
She couldn’t help but look self-satisfied at that praise, and I was happy that I meant it, because from that point on she loosened up and let herself be my fantasy, more and more. It started with her moving the coffee table away from the front of the sofa so she could get closer to me as she started to undo her jeans.
I now found myself getting truly turned on: here I was with a pretty girl stripping off right in front of me, while behind her scene after scene of debauchery spilled across the screen. I jacked off more freely now, finally believing that she wanted to see that. It wasn’t a normal night with a sometime girlfriend, no-sir.
As she slowly peeled her jeans down Cindy stared openly at my cock and balls and the way I was stroking myself. She was nibbling at her lower lip again, and I realized this was a sign I should look for in the future, to maybe gauge her arousal level. Her matching panties hugged her womanly hips as she dropped the jeans to the floor and stepped out of them, then kicked off her shoes. She stood still for a moment with her hands on her hips, as though waiting for me to push her further.
I asked her to turn around, slowly, which she did. Now she was facing the video screen, seeing yet another young woman accepting semen on her pretty face. Me, I was studying the lovely contours and musculature of Cindy’s panty-clad bottom as she stood there, maybe a foot or so away. Her ass was full but not plump, as I knew from the times I’d had-at her from behind, and it was a treat to just look at her like this and picture what lay underneath the cotton material.
“Should I take them off?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at me lazily stroking my shaft.
“Yes, but please do it over here, close to the side of the couch,” I requested. I was really starting to get into this now.
“I don’t believe I’m doing this,” Cindy giggled, making a face as though she wasn’t loving every minute of it. She sashayed over to the side of the couch like I’d asked, facing me, with her crotch right at my eye level. At the vee of her panties I could see the outline of her sex. She rolled her panties down until I could see the top of her blonde curls. [Yes, in those days women had honest-to-goodness pubic hair. Not that I don’t find shaved pubes a turn-on, it’s simply that I’m not gonna fib and tell you Cindy was clean as a whistle.]
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32