By Zemu Huchi/ @zemuhuchi
He always had this calmness, and mystery about him. Very intelligent, laid back and analytical, never spoke much and paid attention to detail.
Seeing him in different spaces made my heart beat faster and slower at the same time. That band on his finger though, it made it all complicated. This complication, however, did not stop me from thinking how those hands would ravish me senseless if given the chance.
Yes, I have a serious fetish for beautiful, clean and masculine hands. His trimmed nails, vein traced fingers so sexy and long. Gosh, those long fingers. They would guarantee the ability to cover a huge surface area of my body, hold my whole breast all at once.
I wanted to suck those fingers. I wanted to feel them all over my body. Wanted to feel them caress me with intensity and strength however yet be tender.
Snap out of it! He is married.
Time is a beautiful thing, as it blessed me with access to see him for lunch. He looked sexy on that day, or was I merely hornier then I thought?
No, trust me, this man is hot, moto moto, so hot I have to say it twice. I remember that day he seemed intense, looking at me as if I was attractive, but that could have been all in my head. Remember I was horny, five months without sex is not joke. Him sitting opposite me like that, his legs spread apart, as if he was giving his penis breathing space and so he would not want to squash it.
I could not help but wonder how loaded he was. You know how hot men sometimes disappoint on their packaging.
I found my way back to the conversation and I caught him mid-sentence, he was saying something along the lines of “things fall apart”. He was speaking about his marriage, but I could not care less, my mind was running wild. I swear my pheromones we excreting mating vibes. What was it about this guy?
Of course those hands.
His hands were having a separate conversation with me. They smiled and teased at me, showing off what they could do to me. Oh gosh, thinking about them right now turns me on. *I think I just flipped my switch, give me a second.*
Under a trance, I told him I needed to get laid. No, no it was not a hint. I really did need to get fucked, and fucked good. Besides him and I were and still are good friends and sex was a subject open to discussion.
He leaned back into his chair smiled, drew his hands together, unknowingly seducing me by stroking his middle left finger. With a slight corner smile he said, “Surely you have friends who can help?”
I did not hear a word he said, just the rhythm of his deep caressing voice. His voice sounded like a well strung base guitar perfectly synced to the erotic band playing in my head. I did not want the lunch to end, but we would soon meet in better circumstances.
The next time I spoke to him, he told me his marriage was worse off since the last time we met. Things between him and his wife had taken a nose dive into a waterless pool. I had noted how quick this turn around had taken place but had not thought it would benefit me in any way. Or so I thought.
I was so wrong. All benefits of the situation were directed at me.
This became obvious when one day my phone rang.
“I am attracted to you so much because you are mentally stimulating, thought provoking, philosophical, witty and intelligent. I am attracted to you because you have a killer smile and such a warm heart, yet you are ruthless in defending your beliefs.”
“I am attracted to you and I want you”.
This was the content of the phone call.
I thought I was going to die. Was I dreaming? I was sweating, my whole body was trembling, it was around 10pm, so I could have been dreaming, sweet erotic dreams too.
“Are you there? When can you and I hook up? I like you because you don’t seem to be one of those girls who confuse sex with emotion. You been there for me and no better person than the one who gets where am at to help me release some sexual tension”
All I could let out was ‘Are you even attracted to me?’
“I am a sapiophile, means I am attracted to not just your body, but find your mind is fucking sexy. I want to use your body to fuck your mind.”
I was beyond turned on. I wanted him right there.
Of course phone sex was inevitable.
We left each other severely horny, having been on the verge of mind explosion.
We had a busy day the next day, so we agreed to meet the following day. He had one request for though; that I wear the shortest dress in my wardrobe, and wear it without underwear.
I was happy to oblige.
I love men who are in control, who know what they want and when they want it. I have not tried the 50 shades of Grey type control yet but he did strike me as a “Grey”. He did and still does turn me on, he oozes power, intelligence and humour.
There I was in a short black and white dress that reached half way down my thighs, doing little to house the sexual juices which were dripping. I was beyond turned on and I could not contain it. I drove in my BMW to his house listening to Motivation by Kelly Rowland and Whezzy. All I could think was those hands were finally going to be all over my body.
He was waiting outside as I parked my car.
He opened my door, took my hand and led me into the house. He smelt so manly, his cologne was a trigger as scent turns me on. One smell and I was so aroused on I needed a bucket. His hands found their way up my dress, for inspection to make sure I had been an obedient young lady. He was thrilled and his lips landed on mine without warning.
There were no words, just bodies, hands, lips and minds conversing.
I could feel a full erection, now he wanted me so bad, he was trembling. He led me to the master bedroom, pushed me onto the bed and went straight for the honey pot. Going down on me is a form of mind controlled to me.
He was flicking my clitoris with his tongue and making circular and up and down motion that was driving me to the edge. He stopped, we got off the bed and removed our clothes faster than sonic the hedgehog.
His penis was calling me, it was dripping pre-cum, I knew what needed to be done.
I instructed him to lay on his back as I wanted to taste every part of his body. Licking him from the curve of his ear lobe, down his neck, coupled it with tender kisses, my intention to communicate how much I appreciated his body. I unleashed my tongue on his chest, he has very sensitive nipples. I gave them a little more attention. I moved down his tummy to his navel, and I could feel him wanting to direct my face on his penis, but instead he maintained some form of composure and enjoyed my pace.
It was worth the wait.
And there it was, happily waiting for me by the navel, fully erect, still dripping precum and seductively drawing me. My petite lips gently kissed the foreskin, ran my tongue from the bottom of his shaft, all the way back to the foreskin.
He tasted like nectar from a honeysuckle. Remember in my last article I highlighted the importance of a clean penis? This one was beyond clean.
Deep throat was a reward he deserved for a clean penis.
I did things to his penis that lollipops would be jealous of. The ‘ummm’, ‘hmmm’, ‘oohhhh, yeah’, ‘ooohhh, fuuuuck’ sounds he made urged me on. My tongue got creative and my mouth got hotter and more responsive.
“Fuck, this is the best blow job I have ever had!”
Afterwards his strokes were nice, slow and deep.
I felt every inch of his manhood.
He took his time, we were in no hurry. With every stroke I felt like warm oil was being poured all over my body. I started moaning whilst his waist started making circular motions. I could feel his breath on my neck, his hands all over my breasts and at times his tongue and lips all over my nipples. His name slipped out, making his strokes more intense and deep, i moved my waist from beneath him, placing him right where I wanted him.
He started going faster, panting heavily, I knew he was near. I squeezed his ass, slapped a little and right there, he whispered in my ear,
And like a volcano he erupted.
After he was all calm he held close stroking my back and ass. Regardless of whether we are a contract or a couple, my sex ends when I am held, it shows appreciation and I do not feel used and discarded. These are the conditions of service.
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