I Get Him Wet. He Gets Me Wetter.

I didn't know about 'born' to do it, but I knew that I was increasingly loving it. And I knew that it was becoming so easy for me, all my hesitation evaporating in the span of less than a day.

My hand slid forward so easily, my slender digits wrapping around the base of him and stroking him up and down so slowly. An involuntary moan escaping my lips as my eyes grew heady and I slipped forward, inhaling deeply through my nose to take in the musk of him.

Giving a blowjob is such a sensory experience. There is the touch and the taste and the sight but the smell is just as much. The scent that is unique to each man and some wonderful mixture of sweat and sex and everything else all mingled into an intoxicating aroma. And the sound as well, the soft shlick of my hand stroking and the repetitive patter of my heavy breathing and sound, even of his cock moving beneath my touch. Wet and hard and eager for me.

I bit my bottom lip and stared up at him, tearing my eyes from his cock with some amount of effort. I knew that I was flushed and red and breathing heavily and what a sight I must have made, down here on my knees with nothing on me from the waist up.

Those tits that he wanted to fuck so badly bouncing slightly from the rhythm of my hand and the pattern of my breathing and my lips parting and clenching back together again and again.

Above me Blake was breathing heavier now, pulling up his shirt a little so the hard limits of his abs were more visible to me and I bent forward, pressing my lips into the flat of his stomach in a touch that was surprisingly intimate and almost affectionate.

But I pulled back too quickly to be that, sliding my lips down the length of his shaft until I paused at the head of him and slid forward, lining up his cock with my mouth.

My breath was coming heavy now, tickling the head of his cock that throbbed and pulsed with the attention I was giving it. Moving forward slowly, so achingly slowly it almost seemed like I wasn't moving at all until I was just brushing against him, too gentle and too subtle to be a real touch until I broke through that barrier as well, sliding forward to take him into me.

I don't know why, but I took my time with it. I almost made out with him. I gave him my attentions and here in our little hidden grotto I made sure to give him what he was asking for.

I made him wet with my spit.

That was the idea. Lubrication. This wasn't a blowjob for its own purposes but rather a means to an end. I wasn't here to swallow down every last drop of his seed but instead to get him ready for the main event.

Blake had said that there would be no pleasure for me in letting him fuck my tits. He all but said that it wouldn't feel good for me and maybe that was partly the case.

My cleavage wasn't an erogenous zone. I wasn't going to cum from just sliding something in between my breasts, no matter how enticing that thing may be.

God can you imagine if I could? If I could make myself cum just by stroking something between my breasts?

I think I might do exclusively that for the rest of my life, were that to be the case.

But that's not the point here which is simply to acknowledge that there is no real pleasure for me to derive from letting him do this to me but that didn't mean I would get nothing from it. After all, as far as I was aware my mouth was no more an erogenous zone than my cleavage, but blowing a guy was enough to almost make me cum.

As evidenced by now, where I'm sitting with his cock in my mouth as I slowly slide it in and out and play on him with my tongue and god, goddamn...

I don't know if I've ever been so wet.

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