It all started from a harmless feel-up. I had earlier blurted out something provocative about my ass and he wanted to see – no, feel for himself.
In public! As we – me, him and four other friends of ours that were hanging out that Sunday – waited for the uber taxis that would transport us to our next destination.
He was bold, daring in that ravenously sexy way. With a face that calls you to bed and a body that makes you do bad things to him in your head and want to finish them up in the bedroom.
He was also loud, which was probably the reason why I tried keeping my distance from him when I first meet him. I do not like loud guys that come off like they want all of the attention for themselves. Maybe it is because he is a chaser of celebrity – or maybe this is just his natural disposition.
Let’s call him T-boy.
I let him feel my ass up under the glare of God, the sun and the public. A feeling of intrigue at the thought of the possibility that we might be caught snaked through my body as his right hand searched and grabbed, and then he, obviously satisfied with his finding, let out a rush of hot breath that seemed to fill my lungs and saturate my insides.
Our friends were chattering away as we waited for our uber requests, all four of them oblivious to the birth of this sexual tension.
The uber taxis came and we were whisked to a joint for some food, drinks and lots of banter. Hours later, we were to proceed to his house. By this time, he had started coming on to me strong – another quality that had me feeling strummed by his fingers like a guitar. He didn’t hold back with his flirtation. From random ass taps, to stolen, quick winks and sexily mouthed words he threw at me when he felt no one was looking.
I was anxious at the prospect of what may happen.
I was nervous at the thought that I wouldn’t want anything to happen (I’d just recently gotten on the celibacy train), even as my body disagreed firmly with my head.
My dilemma had just begun.
We were headed to his apartment and I’m on a celibacy break.
How on earth will I fend off this man I find unrestrictedly attractive? How can I miss out on an opportunity to just let myself go and have fun? Can’t I just make this one exception? Why make an exception on a decision you just made, the first of its kind for that matter?
The questions kept on toiling in my head on our bike ride to the house. He shared the same bike with me.
“I want to be feeling that ass as the bike man moves,” he’d said with a dangerous smile. He isn’t bad-boyish or thuggish; he’s just edgy. His appeal to me was a level stare that sent thrills to places I didn’t know existed on my body.
At his place, the situation got worse. We were all settled and he had positioned himself behind me on the couch so that I was seated in between his legs, my head resting on his well-developed pecs.
The intimacy felt surreal. I remember thinking to myself how that was a position I wouldn’t mind staying in for a very long time. It didn’t matter that I had resolved to take my time with relationships and all. It didn’t matter that we were just meeting for the first time.
I’m a hopeless romantic, this I know.
Before long, we were feeling each other up. His crotch was firmly pressed against my spine, what with the briefs he had changed into which helped leave nothing to my imagination.
My mouth watered. My heartbeat was racing away. And when he nibbled on my ear, I had to press my thighs tightly to tamp down on my orgasmic high.
Moments after, after some quick kisses and playful ear-nibbling, the inevitable happened. We adjourned to the bedroom.
The room wasn’t very tidy, with clothes littered about. But who cared.
He threw me on to the bed and climbed over me, his eyes searching and his mouth reaching but never arriving. I wanted to scream!
“Tee, please just kiss me already,” I gasped.
And that was what he did. He owned my lips, our tongues dueling like sumo wrestlers in an enclosed space. I tried to keep up. He was fast and hungry, almost aggressive while I wanted to savor every moment.
Soon, I was tossed around onto my belly. My trousers were yanked down, and before I could formulate a protest, he had plunged in with his tongue.
“Oh Tee! Tee, we…can’t do…do this. Oh…”
Fuck! He ate ass like a pro. He chewed on me to the point that whenever he took a breather, I felt empty and simply wanted him, his mouth, lips, tongue to take residence in there.
My head had never stopped putting up a fight all this while, but the body and mind were weak.
T-boy had possessed me.
He tongue-fucked me, occasionally coming up to plant wet kisses on my lips.
I wanted to please him too but I knew that would only mean taking it a step further, and while I may not have been strict with the adherence to my celibacy break, I knew penetrative sex was out of the question for that day.
And then there were our friends, lounging a few feet away from us in the living room, busying themselves with a movie he had recommended we watch.
I gave him a blowjob anyway. A quick one only because I wanted to taste all of him. I wanted to enjoy his essence and go back home filled and contented despite my personal restraints.
He didn’t pressure me. He was persuasive, sweetly so, throughout the ordeal, but never crossed his boundaries.
The gentleman, he called himself.
While we kissed for the umpteenth time that day, whilst his body crushed mine against the wall, a question flashed across my mind.
Is this a random incident OR can there be more? If he reaches out, will it be because he feels we have unfinished business or will it be him wanting to discover how much more we can share together?
After a day of adventure, fun and sexual bliss, this was dilemma I was faced with – with a tingling ass as the only souvenir.
Written by Delle