Looking at T's face is one of my favorite things to do. I've already told you that he's ruggedly handsome, and that's true.
Forget about the shirtless Abercrombie & Fitch models who have never seen a day of hard work in their lives. They have those little ripply muscles that were made in a gym, not the real world, and those will go away when they are older, their modeling days are over and they are not paid to hang out in a gym for 4 hours a day. Their eyes are blue, but they look hollow, and you wonder if the blue is real or from colored contacts. They are a type of handsome, sure, but it's a faux-handsome. Its more like "pretty."
Now picture another guy. Let's say you meet while camping by the river. Dark hair, dark eyes. You watch him move firewood and set up camp. He takes off his shirt and he has a real man's body - strong, a little hairy (but not too much), proportioned. His skin is glistening with perspiration and he rubs a towel over his hair and face. He turns to look at you and you lose your breath for a second when he smiles. He's not a model, but a regular guy, and that makes him hotter, much more appealing to you. He reaches for a beer and you notice the muscles in his chest and arms again. They are flexing in a natural way, moving as he moves, not just sticking out like permanent artificial attachments or growths. He sits down in a camp chair to relax and stretches his legs out. You notice a few scars here and there on his tan skin as you try not to fixate on his sexy mouth, the late-afternoon stubble on his chin and cheek, or the faraway look in his eyes when he thinks you're not looking anymore. The closer and longer you look, the more you think Wow. This guy is really good looking, but it's the kind of attractiveness that you don't notice until you really stop and look. You look around at the other men nearby to check your theory and you realize you're right. This one is different. He's the kind of handsome that comes from living and working and sacrificing and taking care of other people. Nothing about that is fake. The Abercrombie boys are nothing next to this guy, even though he could easily blend in with a crowd without turning every woman's head as they pass by. Those who take a good look, though, will turn and watch him, and they'll notice all the pieces come together until a minute later they realize that they are staring at a very attractive, real man.
I was having that realization again - that he's so attractive - when he entered me deeply and pulled all of my attention to that one and only thought. I gasped and my mouth dropped open. Not only did it feel marvelous, but it was the first time. Yes, the first time his cock had been inside me. We had thoroughly enjoyed our oral and manual fun for a long time, but this.....
I pulled my knees up toward my chest and tried to keep my eyes on his while he fucked me, but every now and then I had to close my eyes to focus on the perfect sensation of his cock inside me. He continued for quite a while, which was awesome, but then we stopped for a moment and I suggested we try it from behind.
"Can you do that?" he asked, referring to the same issue he mentioned earlier when I was kneeling on the floor. My answer was simple. "Yes." Not only did I know I could, but I knew it wouldn't hurt and I knew I was going to be feeling so good when I came from doing it that way that I wanted to hurry.
We got in position and I felt him behind me. I spread my knees a little wider to adjust my height and he slid inside me easily, deeper this time, and I leaned back against him. What followed wasn't gently and sweet. It was fast, hard fucking. It took me no time at all to come again, and I screamed, pushing back against him, trying to hold onto the pleasure that was reverberating through me while he was pounding me HARD from behind. He came soon after that, and then he collapsed next to me, covered with sweat and breathing hard.
We just lay there quietly for a bit, holding hands, catching our breath. Then we started talking about this and that. I rolled onto my side and leaned over to kiss him. This may sound silly but I never get tired of kissing that man. I could kiss him for hours. Ok, that's probably not a great idea, but I could.
I'm not sure how much time had passed while we were kissing and talking, talking and kissing, but after one of our prolonged kissing bouts he said, "I want you taste us." I knew exactly what he meant. I scooched down toward the foot of his bed and licked his cock. One little lick. Then another. Another. Then I moaned and took the whole thing in my mouth. Yes, I could taste both of us. I licked and suckled and swallowed until I felt his cock go from firm to immalleable and unyeilding. Even though he had just come 20 minutes before, I felt his hands on the back of my head, his fingers tightening around my hair, and his hips thrusting upward. I matched him, stroke for stroke, until he exploded into my mouth.
I love the groan a man makes when he comes. I really do. When I hear it, I feel victorious, like there was just a little bit of a power swap and I won. He may have thought he was in control, but that guttural groan means he wasn't in control for that moment. In that moment, he was mine. All mine.
I lingered a bit, keeping his cock in my mouth until I was certain he was finished. Then I swallowed one last time and gently licked his cock and balls until they were all cleaned up.
I scooched back up and into his arms. The rest of our time together was spent kissing and talking, and talking and kissing some more, until it was time to go.
We got cleaned up and dressed, and I would be the first to go. He was going to hang out there for a while. I picked up my purse and keys and I turned toward the door. That's when I saw my cane hanging from the chair where I had left it when I came in. I grabbed it and whispered under my breath, "Fucking stairs." T was right there next to me, and he slid his arms around me again and kissed me just like he did when I walked in the door a few hours before. We said our goodbyes and I heard the door close behind me as I walked down the hall.
With every step, I could feel the peace of our afternoon escape slipping away. By the time I was at my car, my mental To Do list had forced itself to the front and center of my mind and I knew that by the time I walked through my front door at home, the last remnants of the escape would be completely gone and I'd be inundated again with chores and demands. The family would want dinner. I'd have clients that would want their phone calls returned. The list would just keep going from there and my life wouldn't be my own again.
Then I shifted in my seat a little and remembered. T's gorgeous cock had been inside me and it was unbelievably wonderful. Then I saw his face in my mind and remembered our kisses, and it occurred to me that all of that was mine. The rest of my life couldn't take away my time with him or the way he made me feel. It was all mine.