My First Taste: The Night I Sucked Him and Broke Free
Two days since my last evening lesson. My pussy throbs already. Heart hammers like I’m a virgin again. I picture spreading my thighs for Mr. Vidal’s cock. Eight p.m. Knocking on his apartment door in Paris. He opens in his robe, eyes twinkling. ‘Marie, need something?’ ‘Yes, you,’ I blurt, cheeks burning. He pulls me in. ‘The next lesson?’ ‘Always time for you, darling.’ We sink onto the couch. ‘I want you to fuck me,’ I whisper, bold now. He teases my fire. Where’s shy Marie? But he parts his robe. First time seeing it. His cock, semi-hard, thick. Veins pulsing. I strip off my sweater, bra. Pinch my heavy tits. It stiffens, rises vertical. Naked now, I settle beside him. Pulse racing. No turning back.
My right hand wraps it. Hot, congested. Glans peeks from foreskin, precum beads at the slit. Fingers slide down shaft to tight balls. He sighs, ‘Good girl, caress them.’ I do. He shivers when I graze underneath. My left hand dips to my soaked slit, rubbing clit. Excitement surges. ‘Uncover me,’ he murmurs. Foreskin glides easy. Purple head swells, shiny. I grip tight at the top. He yanks my hand away. ‘Too much, I’ll cum.’ Gentle now, I stroke. Up, down. Awkward but eager. Instinct hits. Lips brush the tip. Kiss. Tongue laps smooth skin. Suck it in. Salty precum floods my mouth. Cock tenses in wet heat.
The Approach
He groans, ‘Yes, follow your instinct.’ I bob, clumsy sucks. His hands knead my tits, pinch nipples hard. They peak instantly. Fingers massage his balls, tongue swirls frenulum. ‘Deeper,’ he urges. Mouth descends, cock hits throat. Up slow, down again. His hand on my head sets rhythm. Minutes pass, he slows to edge. Then a guttural roar. Jets pulse. First cum in my mouth. Acrid, sweetish, warm. Spills over lips, down chin. I crave penetration. Kneel on couch, arch back. Pussy offered, dripping. ‘Take me.’ He fingers my wetness, nods approval. But steps back. ‘Not yet. I’m spent at my age. Half hour to recover. Lesson ends. Panties on.’ Frustrated whine escapes. He grabs Kamasutra book. We flip pages, positions endless. Vulva aches more. ‘Take it home. Next time, you pick how I fuck you. Maybe.’ Back upstairs, naked on bed. Fingers fly over clit, book open. Balance pose wins. Him seated, me backing onto cock, rocking.
Weekend at parents’. Mom’s knowing smile over tea. Nicolas visited. Whatever. Off to Louise’s farm. Brother Mickaël answers in tee and boxers. Louise out shopping. We hit the living room. Antichrist DVD. Opening: slow-mo fuck under shower. His thighs clench, hiding boner. I tease, feet up, skirt hikes, legs bare. Film twists dark, but hot. Gainsbourg masturbates in woods. Heart pounds. Hand slips into panties. Fingers circle clit openly. His jaw drops. My other hand finds his bulge. Hard. He gropes tits rough, rips off top and bra. I strip skirt, panties. Naked. ‘Show your cock.’ He hesitates, Nicolas shadow. ‘Fuck him. Want you?’ Clothes off. Muscled body. Kneads tits silent. ‘Like them?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Suck.’ Tongue laps, shy. Down to belly. I spread legs, crave mouth. Nope. Cock on pubis. Nightmare repeats. Clamp thighs. He pries knees, forces entry. Panic. Heel kicks gut. ‘Stop! Rape?’ He slumps, sorry. Thought I wanted. ‘Lick my pussy first.’ ‘Gross!’ Boys. No condom anyway. But lust lingers. Guide his hand: nipple twist, fingers probe slit. Clit found. Two inside. I jerk him, foreskin back. We pant. He speeds. ‘I’m cumming!’ Rope of cum sprays us both. No orgasm for me. Louise walks in. ‘Hot show.’ Blush. Clean up. Tea. She’s virgin, scared. ‘I’ll coach your first.’ Kiss cheek. Driving home, changed. No more victim. Control desires. Crave Vidal’s cock, real fuck, orgasm unknown.
