1. Beef with Broccoli


    Date: 2/12/2016, Categories: Fiction, Blowjob, Erotica, Written by women, Author: CandyXLove, Rating: 92.9, Source: sexstories.com

    Burning with the need to come again, I push my tank top and bra away from my breasts and pinch my nipples between my fingers and thumbs and bear down on his invading, stretching fingers. I'm glad I thought to stick that blanket in my mouth! Otherwise I probably would have woken up everyone on the eight floors below us when I scream and come for him again. Jay pushes his fingers into me but holds them steady, letting me ride out the clenching spasms of my orgasm so he can feel it happen. He lays his cheek against my hip and looks up at me, then moves his fingers inside me again. "No," I pant out. "No more right now." My whole body is still tingling and I feel hollow for a second when his fingers leave me. "You're flushed bright pink," he smiles and pushes his hair out of his eyes where it's flopped forward and lays his palm against my mound. "It looks good on you." "Mmmm," I respond, which is what passes for banter after an orgasm like that. "I wouldn't have thought you liked it so rough, nice girl like you." I listen to break the code of his tone, the same way I have every time I've ever let a man give me what I really want. Turns out a lot of men love finding out a nice girl likes hard sex until they think she likes it harder than they do; I've had enough of enthusiastic third dates who stayed the night but got too busy for a fourth or fifth. Jay's words aren't coated in that familiar afterglow disbelief that curdles into contempt before the month is out. "Nice girls ...
    don't?" I prod. "Just surprised. Pleasantly surprised. " He sits back on his heels and I can see his neglected hard-on straining against his jeans. He shakes his head, staring at me. I'm about to ask if he sees something he likes when I remember I'm only wearing a shirt. I pull it off and unhook my bra, enjoying Jay enjoying me. "I think you're wearing too many clothes," I say, feeling that hunger to be filled roaring back into my sex. "And I think everything about you is working overtime to make me hard." Jay pulls his t-shirt off over his head. His chest and stomach are lean and rippled. He still has tan lines across his biceps that show a lot of time spent outside in t-shirts and his skin underneath is smooth, the color of really fine parchment paper, something you'd see made into a fancy invitation. I sit forward and wrap my fingers around his belt and stroke my thumbs down along the sides of his shaft through his pants. "I'm about ready to feel this thick cock inside me." "Overtime," he mutters, closing his eye and tilting his head back. He leans forward and kisses me while I tease him. "Please tell me you have condoms." Yes! I have condoms! I'm a responsible adult who has sex, and I keep them in the nightstand next to my bed. I know, because in October I...used the last goddamn one on a guy who told me he didn't have any time to see me until "after Thanksgiving" and never texted again. Fuck. At least I had the one in my bag, the one for sexy emergencies. That was...the one ...
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