A taste of the unknown

The stranger’s flesh tasted sweet and oddly metallic, tinged with the slightly-salty hint of sweat and general humanity. It wasn’t exactly delicious… but wasn’t directly unpleasant either. Daniel realised he had no place to put it in his catalogue of life experiences up to that point. Sex and all its accoutrements had been such a high stakes, polarised topic in his mind for so long that this actuality felt somehow too simple, too physically mundane.

The muscles in his tongue were already starting to ache from this unusual, stretched-out activity. She wasn’t immediately gushing and gyrating and moaning like they did in every hentai and porno he’d ever watched. Was he doing it wrong?! The pink folds that unfurled before him were too close to really see, but certainly didn’t look much like any ‘flower of femininity’ he could imagine. How was he supposed to tell if he was hitting the ‘money-button’ with his arms pinned down by his sides and his ears blocked in by her legs? He wanted so desperately to be good this, even as he remained unsure if he really ought to be doing it. He didn’t even know who this crazy bitch was. Not to mention why she’d suddenly burst into his room dressed like a space-age prostitute. Was it really a good idea to be putting his mouth anywhere near any of her holes?!

Yet… at the same time… some part of him was leaping at the opportunity. Exalting in the differences from everything he’d ever imagined. He was wide awake now, however exhausted he’d been just minutes before. However sure he still was that this could only be an extremely vivid hallucination. He could feel every slight change in pressure as the girl shifted her weight on his chest. Hear his own blood thumping through veins, and a second ghostly rhythm that might even have been her own. She still wasn’t moaning and groaning, but her hips had begun to move a little: grinding forwards against his chin. Her hands were still tangled in his hair, pulling him forward and kneading his scalp; sending tingling sparks to scatter then coalesce at the base of his neck.

Daniel was really starting to think he might be getting somewhere, straining through the darkness to try and work out if those catching, panting breaths were just his own. His lapping tongue was really starting to cramp now, and go a little numb… but there was something intrinsically addictive in trying to **** it to keep up the pace he’d set. Occasionally, just occasionally, he’d actually applied himself to sporting events and P.E. classes. Forgetting all the indignity of being **** to do this, or all the snickering assholes as they disappeared three bends ahead. Just pushing himself forward past the edge of his own limits for the sense of that achievement in itself. Here again, he was catching just those echoes of a determination he’d long thought dead and buried. He would bring this midnight invader to orgasm, if that was the task set before him. She was right: Questions and complications be damned! The whole situation was ridiculous to begin with!

With a gasp… The girl pulled her hips backwards. Suddenly releasing the pressure and leaving Daniel looking like a bowl-deprived goldfish for a second or two. Her cheeks were looking a little flushed, even through the gloom.

“*Ahem*. W-well I think that’ll do for a warm up…” She coughed, trying to regain what dignified composure one could while dressed in only a crotchless thong and half a skirt.

“How about I return the favour?”