God I Love Being Slutty

I love my life and I love my body and I love my future and I love that I can do this. That I have it in me, the courage and the drive, to take what I want.

To grab the bull by the horns. To grab the college athelete by the cock.

To suck and satisfy and soon enough fuck, but not quite yet.

Don't think I'm not trying. Down here beneath the table with his cock rhythmically pumping into my mouth I am running through a dozen different scenarios where I shift to be able to take him into my sex but still at the same time keep things quiet.

Keep it all secret.

Keep my dignity intact.

And the truth is that in no scenario I can come up with is that even remotely a possibility. It's an impossibility, frankly. Because there isn't a lot of space down here and I'm already taking a risk with what I'm doing, a risk of exposure. There is simply no way to turn myself around and find myself with him inside of me without knocking into the side of the booth so hard that we stumble out in front of everyone.

Half naked. Half fucked. Unsatisfied but **** for more.

And the fact of it is that even if I did manage to find a way, even if I managed to pretzel myself into some kind of twisted shape that could manage to take him without exposing us, there was another far far bigger matter.

It was that he was big.

I was well aware that I was unpracticed in all things sex but especially in actually taking one for the first time. And this specimen in my mouth and my hands was far larger than it had any right to be and, to be blunt, there was no way I could take it without screaming.

There was no way I could take it without making any noise.

No I had to satisfy myself with what I had. And lucky for me it was more than enough.

I pulled back, letting him pop out of my mouth and catching my breath. My hand continued to stroke him but I just lolled there, tongue hanging out of my mouth as I started to pump my fingers into myself a little faster and a little faster and a little faster and a little faster.

Breathing heavily. Face flush and hand sticky with his precum and my spit. Practically drooling as I stared at the gorgeous length and breadth of him, as I watched his head pulsate rhythmically to the movement and felt him shifting above me.

God I loved this. I never thought I would but I confess that I absolutely do. I fucking love sucking cock, every last bit of it.

The sight of him pulsating and bouncing with me. Of him thrumming and swaying that little bit as I stroked him and brought him to full hardness. The smell, so deliciously musky and masculine. The taste, the salt of his skin mingling with the potent earthiness of his seed spilling forth eager for me to lap up. The touch of him. His heat filling my hand, filling my mouth, filling me up. His firmness pressing against my softness and contrasting the two so well. The sound of him grunting, trying to keep himself from being too obvious, trying to keep from making so much noise that we would get caught.

And it was the last that caught my attention now because it was getting more obvious. Because I could hear the very booth around us shaking as he held onto the counter above and tried to keep from being too obvious but god he was shaking the whole thing.

And someone was going to see.

And someone was going to have questions.

And someone was going to want to know what was going to happen.

And I was going to do my best to make it impossible for him to hide.

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