by Nia Green
When I got back to his house, I sat across from him on a comfortable sofa in his living room.
“Is… is my punishment over?” I asked, my voice coming out in an uncertain whisper.
He leaned down and kissed me, an unhurried and gentle press of his lips against mine.
“Oh, I think so,” he said.
"What would you like me to do?" I asked.
"Well," he replied, "I would love to feel your mouth on my cock."
I nodded, slowly. If that was what this man who had done so much for me and been so kind wanted me to do, I would try. I was frightened of the newness of it all, but I wanted to touch him and I wanted to please him.
Slowly, never breaking eye contact with me, he stood up to his full commanding height and unbuckled his pants and pushed them down to reveal bright red silk boxers straining to contain his erection. Once he'd stepped out of his pants, he did the same to the boxers and sat down on the couch.
Naked, the hard bulge I had felt when I sat in his lap was revealed, and it proved to be a monster cock. The first time I saw it, my brain exaggerated it to the size of my forearm. Surely this wouldn’t fit inside me, I thought.
I had never sucked a cock before, and his was so big! I wanted to please him, to satisfy him, but I was afraid to put such an enormous shaft in my mouth. I knew I couldn't swallow it all the way down, like I'd heard some girls did when blowing their boyfriends. This wasn’t some boy’s rod, this was a man’s heavy shaft and there wasn't enough room in my throat for a giant pole like his.
"Easy," he said.
He reached out and took my hand.
"I know this isn't something you've encountered before," he said.
"It's so big," I whispered, eyes wide.
" Why don't you start just by touching it?" he asked, and pulled me gently over to him by my hand.
"On your knees, that will make it easier," he said, with a sharper tug on my hand in his.
I knelt by the edge of the couch and he let go of my hand. Carefully, I reached out and stroked one finger down the shaft, from the purple mushroom head down to the root, buried in a forest of thick pubic hair.
His cock twitched with the touch, and I gasped and drew my hand back from it. I looked up at my friend to make sure I'd done the right thing.
He smiled kindly at me and told me that his cock wouldn't break, I could touch it more firmly.
Okay, I thought to myself, This is it. This is when I suck my first cock.
I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock, taking care to be gentle, but increasing the pressure and grasping it a little more confidently.
As I opened my mouth and leaned forward, I shut my eyes and breathed in the rich scent of him. I leaned forward until my tongue was touching the underside of the head of his cock, licking off the bead of pre-cum glistening there with a flick of my tongue.
The taste of him was not what I'd expected. My friends at school had told me that their boyfriends tasted bitter and salty, sucking cock totally grossed them out.
He tasted salty, yes, but not unpleasantly so.
I adjusted my hand on his shaft and leaned forward, taking his cockhead into my mouth and flicking my tongue against the underside, licking away the precum as it appeared.
Carefully, I sucked on the heavy organ in my mouth. I stopped flicking my tongue and began running it in circles around the head.
My neighbor reached his hand down and wrapped it around my own, slowly moving it up and down his thick shaft, from my lips to the root. After three long strokes, he let go of my hand.
"Keep stroking," he said quietly.
How could I disobey a command like that, when I was enjoying feeling how hot and strong the shaft in my hand was? I was pleased to have made him so hard, pleased to have him ready and willing to fuck my mouth.
After I got used to the feeling of just the tip of his cock in my mouth, I started bobbing my head a little bit, spreading my saliva along his length, my hand and my mouth meeting in the middle.
I tried to take him too deeply into my mouth and choked a little.
"Easy," he said. His voice, already deep, was even lower than normal, with an edge of raspiness that turned my knees to jelly. "Don't hurt yourself, now."
I opened my eyes and looked up at him, meeting his gaze. He was smiling at me and I smiled back - could he see that, with my mouth full of his cock?
Shutting my eyes, I returned to my task, focusing on the softness of his skin and the musky smell of him, the comforting warmth of his body. All of this was turning me on like I'd never been before, I could feel tingles in my nipples and below, a fire burning that I didn't know how to put out.
"I'm going to put my hand on your head," he said.
I nodded, still focusing on his cock and the feelings it was stirring me.
His large hand wrapped around the base of my skull and tangled into my hair, careful not to pull the strands.
He didn't force his cock deeper into my mouth, but he did apply a gentle pressure, speeding up my pace and setting the rhythm that worked for him.
It was pleasant, not to have to think about how to suck his cock to simply enjoy the feelings and have him set the rhythm.
I reached down with one hand and started rubbing myself through the thick khaki fabric of my miniskirt, in an effort to relieve the ache that was building there.
He stopped and took his hand off of the back of my head, pulling his cock slowly out of my mouth. I stopped rubbing myself for a moment, a little captivated by the long strand of saliva and precum that stretched from the slit on the head of his shaft to my mouth.
He chuckled and I blushed and hastily wiped my mouth on the back of my hand.
"Do you need some attention?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said. I paused, and I could feel the blush spreading across my cheeks. "I was enjoying what we were doing just fine."
Oh. Perhaps he wanted to move on and have sex now.
"Do you want to, um, do you want to go up to bed?" I knew where his bedroom was, I'd glimpsed the large wooden bed through the open door before. Was I ready to go to bed with him, though?
"Kiara," he said, "I don't expect you to have sex with me today. It's a big step, and you've never even touched a cock before today, have you?"
I tried to shuffle my feet, but I had knelt to have better access to my task. I squirmed, though, and hung my head a little.
"I didn't think so," he said.
He held his hand out to me and I took it without hesitation. With a tender touch and a warm smile, he used it to pull me to my feet.
"I think we need to talk," he said.
I groaned.
"Even I know that that's bad news," I said.
He laughed, then, a rich baritone chuckle, and hugged me around the shoulders. I marveled again, as I had for the past two years, that this man would be so kind to me. Even when he laughed, he included me in the joke, he never simple laughed at me or made me feel foolish.
"Let's sit on the couch," he said.
Once he sat down and patted the cushion next to him, I immediately sank onto the leather sofa and sighed involuntarily as the leather seat molded perfectly to my ass. I'd never known furniture could be this comfortable before Roger Hill had invited me into his home.
"All right, my dear," he began. "First of all, this is not bad news. We just need to have a talk about our relationship and our expectations. I don't want to abuse your trust or lead you on in any way."
I looked up at him and smiled. He could never do that.
"I'm afraid of giving you the wrong impression," he continued. "I don't want you to expect marriage or kids with me. That's not the kind of man I am. I'd love to date you, to spend a few years enjoying one another's company, but I'm not particularly interested in domesticity. Does that hurt your feelings?"
I couldn't help but laugh.
"Theo, I'm barely eighteen. I want to go to college, not get married. Sure, I'd like to have kids someday, but not now! No
t even soon!"
He looked relieved.
"You're a sensible girl, I didn't think you'd have the wrong idea."
"So," I began, "You say you're interested in dating me... does that mean just sex, or does that mean romance and flowers and nice dinners?"
"Oh, I think that those could be arranged," he said with a smile.
He reached out one hand and stroked my cheek. I raised my own and pressed it against his, enjoying the feeling of his hand between my palm and my face.
The more he touched me, the more I longed for his touch.
We started into one another's eyes at that point, simply smiling and enjoying the feeling of skin against skin.
Finally, he said "Oh, my dear girl, this is going to be fun," and smiled.
I believed him. Everything that he'd said was going to be fun had been some of the best times of my life. He'd taken me riding horses, up in a hot air balloon, on day trips to the beach, even, once, to a spa.
I had to admit, I started to wonder... if that was how he treated a neighbor girl down the block, how would he treat his girlfriend? Would he indulge me with an occasional luxury? That day at the spa, with the massages and the facials and the delicious finger food that never seemed to stop coming by, was one of the most relaxing days I'd ever spent.
If I could go back to a spa, with him joining me, I couldn't imagine how happy that would make me. Now, of course, I'd still be interested in him if he weren't wealthy. His kind eyes, his interest in me and my life, none of that could be bought, and those were what made me so comfortable around him.
He leaned forward, after I'd been lost in introspection for a few moments, and again softly pressed his lips against mine.
This time, though, he deepened the kiss, pressing more firmly and shifting our positions on the couch, using his larger body to press me into the back of the soft leather couch, placing one of his hands on my hip and pulling me against him.
His body felt so good against mine.
After a few moments that left me breathless, he sat back on the couch, spreading his legs and settling into a comfortable position. He patted his thighs and smiled at me.
"Come here," he commanded.
I obeyed, straddling his thighs and placing my legs outside his. This way, with him leaning back, I could look down on his face and observe the lean lines of his muscular body.
I put both of my hands on his chest and leaned down, kissing him, pressing my lips against his with all of the passion I could muster.
Soon, he placed one of his hands against the back of my head and pulled me closer to him. He opened his mouth against mine, flicking his tongue out over my lips, causing me to part them in surprise. Immediately, his questing tongue plundered my mouth for the first time, where he cock had been earlier.
I moaned against his mouth and then gasped and broke away from his kiss as I felt something twitch between my legs. I looked down to see his hardness straining against the zipper of his perfectly tailored linen trousers.
I settled back on my heels so that I could reach his cock, and reached down to stroke it softly through the fabric.
"Would you like me to suck you again?" I asked. I was too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. Maybe someone older, someone more experienced, maybe they'd have known exactly what to do, had the confidence to unzip his trousers and pull out his cock and suck it right down their throat, but that wasn't me. I hoped he didn't expect that to be me.
"No, my dear," he said. "I was hasty and selfish to let you suck my cock earlier. It wasn't at all fair to you, I hadn't even kissed you properly then, and I hadn't done anything to give you pleasure. Will you forgive me?"
Again, I could feel my cheeks go red. I was beginning to hate that blushing.
"I enjoyed it," I mumbled.
"Mm," he said," I'm glad to hear that, but I still should have led up to it better."
"How?" I asked.
"Like this, of course," he said, pulling my face back down to his.
We embraced and kissed like that for a few endless minutes, with his hands gentling resting on my hips.
Soon, one hand left my hips and slowly traced a teasing path up my body to my breast. He patted and stroked my stomach by turns as he kept his lips on mine.
Carefully, slowly, he took my perky little melon into his hand. I’d never been touched there before, but I loved to wash my own breasts in the shower, so I thought that I knew how good they could feel.
I was so wrong.
His hot strong hand on my chest made me groan into his mouth. He raised his other hand and grasped my chest more firmly, kneading my breasts with a tenderness that melted my heart as his touch fired my passion.
When his thumbs brushed my hard nipples through my shirt and bra, I shivered in his hands and leaned forward, my diamond-hard nipples straining through the fabric to meet his seeking fingers.
Carefully, he raised my shirt over my belly to the base of my bra and paused, running one of his large manly hands over my flat belly. It was more of his skin on mine than I'd ever felt. No one had touched me this intimately - even when I was sucking his cock, we had both been fully dressed, and it seemed somehow less new and heady than his callouses against my stomach.
He smiled slowly up at me and raised my shirt up further, exposing my little white bra.
"Very nice," he murmured. Looking down, I saw that he could only see a little bit of my skin, a small sliver of my bosom peeking out between my bra and my shirt to tease his eyes.
I reached down and pulled the shirt off over my head, getting stuck for a moment and then shimmying the rest of the way out. The motion rubbed my sex against the hot hardness that his pants were barely containing and we both stifled moans.
He reached around behind me and unhooked my bra, fumbling with the clasp for only a minute. He threw the little white garment aside and pulled me against him, taking my nipple into his mouth and sucking it fiercely, pulling my love globe into his wet mouth. I cried out from the feeling of it and he chuckled around my nub, flicking it with his tongue until I cried out again as the arousal pulsed in my sex.
I didn't realize that I was rubbing myself against his cock mindlessly until he pulled his head away from my teat, but an electric shock went through me at how good it felt, before he turned his attention to the other nipple and I got lost in the sensation again.
As he tongued my nipple, he took handfuls of my ass and squeezed through the short skirt I was wearing. I could feel the fabric ride up under his hands, so that his fingertips brushed against my bare cheeks, and again, I shivered against his cock.
He pulled away from my chest, darted back in for one lick to my nipple, and then sat back.
"Enough," he said. "Too far again. God, what you do to me, you're so damn hot that I can hardly stand it. I need a minute."
He gestured at the chair next to the couch and I went to sit on it. My exposed thighs, slightly sweaty and trembling from desire, stuck to the leather and I shifted back and forth slightly, getting comfortable as he lay back, shutting his eyes and rubbing his cock in long, slow strokes through his pants.
I wondered if his cock ached anything like my sex did. Seeing that his eyes were still shut, I reached down one finger and rubbed the sweet little spot of need that I found there.
Getting distracted by how amazing the relief from the yearning that my body was feeling, I started to rub slow circles on the fabric of my skirt, throwing my head back and shutting my eyes.
When I lifted one hand and started to roll the pink tip of my breast between my fingers, squeezing the nipple repeatedly, Roger spoke up.
“I could watch you do that for hours,” he said, and I jerked my hands away from my body.
“Why,” I started to ask, and then paused.
Perhaps I wouldn’t like the answer I got - but I had to know.
“Why don’t you want to touch me?” I asked.
He chuckled again.
“That is not the problem, my dear girl,” he sai
d. “The problem is that I want you to bend you back over that chair right now and fuck you silly, and that’s not what I want your first time to be like. I want your first time to be about your pleasure, not my need to get my rocks off with a beautiful teenage girl.”
I hesitated.
“Is that what you’d really do right now if I were someone else? Someone more experienced?”
“Actually, if you were anyone else, I would have spanked you for showing up before I told you to,” he said.