I didn’t reply to him right away. I saw his response to my ad on Craigslist, along with the 32 others, sitting in my inbox waiting to be read. I had quickly culled the fatties, the uglies, the ones with no photos and no information about themselves until I was left with four.
The four remaining had photos, two even had head shots. He described himself as being six-foot tall, a pilot, drug and disease free, fit, fun and friendly. He had seen my ad and thought we could have some fun together. In addition to a head shot and full body shot, he’d included a dick pic which, unless he had the hands of a child, meant his cock was … big.
I suppose what made him stand out from the other three finalists was his occupation. Usually responses to ads like mine don’t provide much personal information. His photos told me he was confident and there’s nothing I like more in the bedroom than confidence.
I had posted my ad on a Thursday night and promptly got distracted by drinks with a neighbour. It wasn’t until the next morning I even remembered to check my inbox.
By Sunday afternoon, I decided to send the pilot a message.
“Hey Top Gun, how are you? I ended up having a very busy weekend so I’m sorry for the slow reply. You sound like a friendly guy. You on kik? Or prefer text?”
An hour passed before I received back: “It’s all good. Your choice,” and gave me his kik name and mobile number. I waited until the following evening before I found him on kik and sent him a message.
It always amazes me that you can be sharing intimate photos of yourself with a complete stranger within half an hour in an online world with no cares at all, and yet we still get embarrassed showing our bikini bodies at the beach.
After a minimum amount of small talk, he was sending me pic after pic of his hard cock, his cock leaking pre-cum, and videos of him stroking his shaft.
But if I’m honest, what I loved most were his words. He used proper sentences, even though we were on a messenger platform. He knew how to spell, used correct grammar and had a sophisticated vocabulary. I enjoyed reading his messages because each one was a surprise. I had long stopped expecting people to consider grammatical correctness when they communicated online. It was refreshing.
We messaged for two weeks, almost every day. We sent dirty photos and videos, shared what we might do with the other if they were there right now. Talk is one thing. Acting it out is another entirely.
Top Gun lived and worked two hours away and while we’d vaguely discussed the idea of a visit, nothing was locked in. I was all but resigned to it being a fun sexting thing but no more. The logistics seemed so inconvenient to a city-dweller like me who had to talk herself into driving to the 24-hour Kmart, just because it involved getting her car out of the garage.
One very ordinary Monday, I was messaging a few fuck interests simultaneously. It amused me to be sharing dirty messages of varied levels at the same time to different suitors. What if I got confused and ended up talking about next week’s threesome with the guy I actually really liked?
Then Top Gun asked me where I lived.
I described my location and ended with “That’s why you should come visit”.
“Ever fuck on the balcony?’ he asked.
“I am at Kiama at the moment,” a half hour drive away.
“So, close and yet so far. You live in a college on base?”
“You allowed visitors?”
“Not overnight …”
“Haha, sometimes that’s a good thing I guess.”
“So, I should come visit, huh?”
“Well, I’m allowed visitors … ”
“So, half an hour?”
“You’re coming here in half an hour?”
And half an hour later, Top Gun was at my door.
When he walked in, he did what I always tell myself I will do in these situations but never do: kiss the person straight away. I think it’s the best way to break the ice and avoid that awkward how-do-we-start-having-sex game that I’ve played too many times. He just kissed me, passionately with his tongue, and I led him upstairs. I had been mildly stressing I didn’t have a beer to offer him but once in the kitchen, he kissed me again and there was no need.
In my room, he pushed me down on the bed. His lips were very full and soft. His hair cropped short as you would expect from someone in the defence force and was dark ginger in colour. He was smattered with light freckles over most of his body which surprised me as I hadn’t picked him for a redhead in his photos.
I could feel his cock through his shorts and was pleased to note it was as big as his photos had suggested. I unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off over his broad shoulders. I undid his shorts and unzipped his fly. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.
Half undressed as he was, he tugged my dress and bra down to expose the nipple of my left breast until he could latch his mouth around it. He sucked it like he was saving me from a snake bite. I threw back my head and moaned softly.
He was running his hands over my body and pulling up my dress. I sat up to help him pull it off and kissed his chest. When I kissed his nipple he gasped in surprise.
He kissed my mouth and worked his way down my body. When he got to my pink knickers, he pulled them down and I saw him glance at my tattoo but he didn’t mention it.
With my knickers off, he began to caress my inner thighs. I could feel his breath on my cunt. He kissed all around but didn’t touch it, with fingers or mouth.
“You like me teasing you?” he asked.
“Yes,” I murmured, which was half true. I did like being teased but I also wanted more than anything for him to touch me.
He kept it up, long after I was ready to feel his lips on my clit. I could feel his breath edging closer, his fingers almost caressing me.
“You’re a fucking tease, you know that?”
“Don’t you like it?”
And when he finally kissed my pussy, it was good. Better than good. He had a light and gentle touch but knew how to use his tongue. It was sensual, slow and tantalising. He knew how to make me want for more. It was hard to believe we’d only met 15 minutes ago.
He started to eat me, using his tongue, and his mouth to create friction against my clit. He rubbed me gently with his fingers but didn’t put them inside me. That came later.
He ate me like I eat macarons; small bites held on the tongue to better savour the exquisite flavour and deliciousness. Don’t judge me. I really like macarons.
He made me come, hard, which is no easy feat when I’m getting head. After I came, he rubbed his fingers through my juices and then stuck them in my mouth to suck clean.
“You like that, don’t you, you dirty slut?”
I liked licking his fingers and I liked being called bad things. It was my turn to return the favour.
He lay on his back and I kneeled between his legs. I took his long, hard cock in my hand and slowly took his swollen head and shaft in my mouth.
He groaned quietly as I sucked him, moving my hand rhythmically, twisting it slightly, up and down. I had watched the videos he had sent me closely to work out what he liked and I focused my attention around the head of his cock.
Within a minute or so, he told me he was going to come.
“Do you want me to come in your mouth?”
My mouth being full of his cock, I was unable to answer, but I tried to nod in the affirmative.
His cum, when it came, was sweet and slid down the back on my throat. I didn’t even feel the urge to gag.
“Mmm, delicious,” I said, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand in a most unladylike manner. I leaned forwarded and kissed him. He’d told me in our messages that he knew what his cum tasted like so I knew he wouldn’t mind.
“You want to ride me now?”
“Yes, yes I do.”
I positioned myself on top of him, legs straddling his crotch.
“Do you want to put something on?”
“That’s up to you.”
“Well … are you clean?”
“Yes. But I have one in my shorts pockets if you want to grab it?”
“I have some. A lady is always prepared.”
He tore open the packet and rolled it down over his cock. The packet claimed to be “Berry Bliss” and the condom was mulberry in colour.
“It looks black,” he muttered.
“Once you go black …”
Wrapped in plastic, I positioned his cock and slid down onto him. His cock was hard and filled me. I sighed that first sweet sigh when cock fills you for the first time.
He was big, bigger than I had had in a while. I could feel the head of his cock pushing against my cervix. It was a sweet dull ache, but not painful.
I began to ride him, leaning down so he could suck on my nipples while my clit rubbed against his pelvic bone. In this position, it doesn’t take me long to build to orgasm and I could feel one growing inside me.
He watched me, even with my eyes closed I could feel his burning into mine, watching my face to see when I was going to come.
It was intense and quick when it finally came, but I knew that was only the beginning. I rode his cock to orgasm, over and over, until I lost count.
In this position, I could rock for hours and for a while that’s exactly what I did. My hair was slick with sweat and clung to my face. My pussy was wet and gripped tightly around his long, hard shaft. Still he watched me, watching my face, my eyes shut, my mouth open and moans of pleasure rolling down over him laying beneath me.
I didn’t want to stop, but my body was tiring and I needed a break.
“How do you want to come?” I asked.
He screwed up his face like he was thinking but didn’t answer. I continued to move up and down on his cock.
“Tell me how you want to come.”
“I want to bend you over.”
I made to climb off him but he pulled me back down onto his cock.
“You like that? You like riding my cock?” he said.
“Yes, I do. But if you keep doing that, I’m never going to get off. Your cock is addictive.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”
“Argh, seriously. I want to make you come.”
He fucked me from behind, bent over doggy-style. He was so big, initially it hurt. It took a while for my pussy to adjust. He fucked me hard, fast, his balls slapping against me.
I sat back, releasing his cock from my pussy. He climbed off the bed and stood next to me. The condom had ridden up to the head of his cock. He pulled it off, tied a knot in it and threw it in the bin.
I was laying on my stomach when he climbed back onto the bed. He started to finger me from behind. I was wet and ready for his fingers, one, then two, then three.
He rolled me over to my back. Rubbing my clit with one hand, he placed the other above my public bone and pushed down. I recognised the move straight away from our messaging.
“You’re trying to make me squirt,” I said.
“Is that a problem?”
“Not at all.”
He rubbed my clit, alternately fingering me in an up and down motion, rather than the usual in and out. All the while, his other hand pushed down on my pubic area.
It felt amazing and if I had ever felt like I might squirt, it was then. But I didn’t.
“Told you I don’t squirt,” I said to him as he flopped back down on the bed next to me.
“But it was good, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was. I wanted to make you come though.”
“I did come already, in your mouth.”
“But I wanted you to come in my pussy.”
“Do you want me to fuck your arse?”
“I actually don’t know if I can handle it. You’re very big. Bigger than I’ve had in my arse.”
I was between his legs, playing with his cock gently with my hands. I slapped the head lightly against my breasts. Tugging on it half-heartedly, but not pulling it like I meant it.
“You want to come in my mouth again?” I asked, as I rolled the head of his cock around my mouth.
“You want me to come in your mouth?”
Again, my mouth was far too full to answer and I nodded in response.
I began to suck on that long, hard shaft. Slowly, then fast, using my hands as I felt necessary, twisting them up and around the head in time with my deep sucking. I took his cock deep into my mouth, into my throat, controlling my gag reflex so it instead felt like I was pulsing my throat.
I sucked his balls, one then the other, while I pulled his cock with my free hand.
“Mmm, you like sucking cock, don’t you? Yeah, you want me to come in your mouth?”
It didn’t take long before I knew he was going to come again and I let him build to orgasm.
The first time he came in my mouth, I could barely taste his cum, but this time I felt it shoot into my mouth, feel it hit the back of my throat, its sweet taste lingered on my tongue long after he left.
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