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It was the first I'd ever had, and it made me laugh... a personal story not too dissimilar from the one that I'd been remarking upon. I wrote back, admitting that I'd been on the receiving end of just such an encounter (sucking a guy's balls when he suddenly, silently, farted), and things just went from there.
We knew nothing about one another. Okay, he did send me a dick pic, but when he asked for a shot of my pussy, I sent a photo of my cat. Predictable, I know, but it appeared to amuse him enough that he responded with pictures of his. So yes, we bonded over a mutual love of kitties, and then one message mentioned he was going to an art exhibition at a gallery just a few towns over.
I knew it wasn't a trick because seriously, all he knew of me was my user name. Even my IP was cloaked in a VPN, and my sign-in details couldn't have been more anonymous. But there he was, within half an hour's drive, and it was a one day show so I knew when he'd be going. Hey, look at me! I'm stalking some dude I met on line.
Or, I could ask him what time he'll be there, and if maybe he'd like to meet for coffee?
The Starbucks was busy, but he spotted me immediately - I'd told him to look out for the short goth girl, and he laughed as we said hello and said he'd already been glared at by two others. "You should have said you'd be the prettiest of them all," and I responded by pantomiming vomit... you know pointing one finger towards my mouth and pretending to violently retch.
Not that I didn't agree with him... even with all my poundage and padding, I know I'm not bad looking (if you look), and I know my way round a make-up case as well. Tommy, however, just laughed; asked what I wanted to drink (and paid for it), then we squeezed (literally, in my case) into one of the last free tables in the place.
Driving in, I'd wondered whether we'd have anything to talk about. Our emails had always been light-hearted and chatty, but reality can often throw a wrench into that. In fact, we just picked up where our messaging left off, laughing and joking, and with one coffee quickly leading to a second, it was no surprise when he suggested we head elsewhere and get something to eat. Or, after that, when he asked if I wanted to see where "all the action takes place" - meaning, of course, his apartment.
Which did give me pause for thought. Yes, he was a great message writer. But he'd also sent me that dick pic - for which, I should add, he'd apologized profusely, until I told him I thought it was cute. Which probably isn't what a guy wants to hear about his pride and joy, so maybe we were even on that score. I nodded, and told him I'd follow in my car.
Holy fuck. We drove for maybe 15 minutes, before turning into a gated apartment complex, for which the monthly rent, I quickly guest-imated, was probably three times what I paid for mine. Then I saw his actual home and I doubled the rent again. Ho-ly fuuuuuck.
I flopped down onto a sofa that almost floated in mid-air, it was so soft, looked around at a TV the size of my bed, and the wall art which probably cost a few bucks as well. Even the computer in the corner was state of the art, and when he asked which wine I preferred, a Caymus sauvignon or an Argiano brunello, I knew from my occasional trips to the liquor store, where I never spent more than $15 a bottle, that he had considerably more refined tastes. In fact, I Googled them both when I got home, and neither left much change out of $100. Yumm!
We sat, we joked, we even logged into SexFail.com, and spent a happy half-an-hour or so watching a dozen strangers' sex lives go pear-shaped. All the while, I have to admit, edging closer and closer to each other on the couch until, finally, he asked if I wanted to see the rest of the apartment. A tour which began in the master bedroom, and ended there as well. At least for now.
I won't describe his bedroom - it was as impressive as you'd probably expect. What did surprise me was his cock. Yes, it looked just like its photograph. Yes, "cute" was still the word that came to mind, only this time that was a good thing. Curled up on the bed alongside his naked body, my face just inches from his erection, the wine an electric buzz in my senses, soft ambient lighting and music to match, it was the most gorgeous thing I'd seen in my life.
Until he burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, I just remembered that video of the guy getting a handjob, when his dog thought he was being attacked by the girl." I smirked. "That's okay, I was remembering the one where she got his foreskin caught in her retainer."
Tommy looked around. "Thankfully, I don't have a dog. Or a foreskin."
"Oh, I'm sure I can think of something else that could go wrong," I replied, and with two fingers deep inside my cunt,, I wrapped my face around his cock, as deep as I could, and as much as my jaw would allow. Then I jammed a slick, juice-soaked finger up his ass and he came so hard, and so much, that my own triumphant cry of "SexFail!" was lost as I fought to keep his load from overflowing my mouth, and failed miserably.
Now it was Tommy who rocked back laughing; "oh, I wish had my phone handy," he somehow blurted out. "Epic SexFail!" There was nothing else that I could do. With my entire weight behind me, I pushed him back and lay atop him, kissing him deeply as his own come flowed into his mouth.... And he loved it.
I don't know how long we spent swapping come between our mouths, but by the time my mouth was empty, he was already hardening again. I knew that because suddenly he was deep inside my cunt and I was riding him as hard as I could. For a moment, yes, I did think about conjuring up another Sexfail - a nurse friend once told me about a woman who dislocated her hip during a wild cowgirl ride, and another who broke her boyfriend's dick while fucking him reverse cowgirl.
But no, he felt too good for me to stop - especially when I sank down all the way, feeling him as deep inside me as any man had ever been, and stretching me wide as well. And this time, with no interruptions, he lasted forever - and I came so many times that, long before he was done, I was too exhausted to move.
I was just crouching motionless over him while he pistoned in and out, harder and faster, until suddenly he let out a mighty groan, pushed one last time and my insides flooded with heat. If I'd been able to speak, I'd probably have told him that was spectacular. Instead, I just collapsed onto him, while his cock pulsed and shifted inside me.
"Well, we won't be posting that one online," he said, once he got his breath back, squeezing himself out from beneath me, then kneeling beside me, his cock still slick with my juices and his come, and still promising more than a mouthful, even though it had started to soften.
He was watching me thoughtfully. "Still hungry?" He asked with a smile, and I nodded, pulling him closer. "No, actually I feel like doing some cleaning," I said, and he looked delightfully confused for a moment.
"Starting with this," I continued on, and my tongue lashed up his dick. He tasted fantastic, cock and cunt conjoined on his flesh, and every drop of it was mine. But I had an idea as well; I just had to see if he was up for it.
"Do you have your phone nearby?" He furrowed his brow but nodded, reached across to the table and picked it up.
"I want you to film me cleaning your cock," I told him. "And I want you to piss on my face."
His eyes widened. "Seriously?" I could tell he liked the idea.
"Seriously. And if you can get it in my mouth as well, I'll let you post it on SexFail. Just don't warn me before you start. I like surprises."
And then I started work.
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