Eating Sex, part two

... read Eating Sex, Part One first...

After that kiss, we carried on with working and talking, and my friend and colleague returned, and my heart was filled with this fantastic secret. I carried it like a prize somewhere near the base of my spine, or it carried me.
We all did our day's work, and every so often that man and I would catch each others' eye and electricity would pass between us - as it had from the start, but now with more energy. At one point I became lost in thought, so locked in the memory of the kiss that I was entirely unaware of what was happening around me, and when I returned to the present, I found my tongue wandering slowly across my lip, where his had, and his eyes locked in mine, his mouth forming an sentence which made no sense. We snapped out of it and nobody noticed.

I can barely remember what I did that evening. Did I hang out with colleagues? I remember writing rapturously in my journal, leaving out names, painting a broad sweep over what happened, and falling asleep with my heart in my throat. I, the author of countless erotic stories, emails and text messages, could not bear to imagine what might take place between us. As soon as I tried to picture anything, it was as though my vulva rolled up like a frightened hedgehog. But a very happy, frightened hedgehog.

The next morning I rose very early and ran through the sleepy city to a self-service tanning booth, because i felt too pale and pasty to take my clothes off in front of anyone. The vitamins and the heat soaked into my starved bones and made me feel less transparent. More substantial, but still sleek enough to dart in and out of anywhere without anyone noticing. I spent the morning working; the afternoon was given to group work. I think I ate dinner with colleagues, but was far too excited to eat. I vaguely remember ordering something and eating about three leaves of lettuce. My colleagues worried about me, but I brushed off their concerns, and as soon as it was decent, left for my hotel room, pleading tiredness and work.

Just thinking about it still makes me feel sick with excitement. I hopped into the shower and washed myself as quickly as I could, messed my hair in the mirror. I put on dark denim panties, a grey cotton Calvin Klein bra, the pale blue CK jeans I had starved myself all summer to fit into, a brown linen shirt that tied at the neck, which I left indecently open. I shoved my wallet into my back pocket and left my hotel room and ran to look for a taxi. I must have been giving off tons of energy, because everyone sitting outside at the little cafes stared at me. My heart was in my pussy, and I hoped against hope that none of my colleagues had chosen that particular street to drink a coffee in the setting sun.

Maddeningly, the one-way system in the city meant that I didn't have a direct route to the hotel, which would have taken all of five minutes, but the driver had to go first left, then right, then down the river, then right again. After what seemed like forever, I arrived, paid the driver, and steeled myself to walk through the doors as though I did this sort of thing every day. I got into the lift - thank goodness nobody was in it with me. I inspected my face in the mirror. I was still there, and prettier than I remembered. The lift bounced to the third floor and I got out and went into the corridor; his door was ajar. I knocked anyway, and he was there immediately, and somehow we were locked in a kiss, and I wondered what I was doing there because this was crazy, crazy, crazy, but god, kissing had never tasted or felt so good or so delicious or so right or so wrong.

I still wasn't sure if we were going out to dinner, or what, and I pulled away. He stroked my face.

"When I kiss you, I am afraid of you." I laughed into his mouth and kissed him harder, and kissed him, and kissed him, and he was undoing my jeans, and I had my hands in the back of his, and skimming around to his belt. I had never undone a man's belt before, and it was challenging, but I pulled strongly at the stiff leather, and managed to keep kissing him and paying attention to what his hands were doing. They were under my shirt, teasing my nipples through the thin material of my bra, teasing the small of my back, butterflying across my navel. I freed his shirt from his trousers and began to unbutton it. He started to take my shirt off, but it was narrow in the shoulders so I pulled it over my head while he took off his shirt and vest.

Skin. This was new. We pressed our bodies into each other again. His skin felt like warm marble; insanely smooth and inviting. He kissed my neck, my collarbone, my face. Somehow, we were free of our jeans, and on the bed; he in his boxers, I in my dark panties. He lay back and I sat next to him, tracing gentle patterns on his stomach, leaning in to kiss some more. I was almost afraid to touch his cock, but when I laid my hand across it it was hot and sprung full of energy behind the cotton. Not fully erect, but solid, hardening, heavy. He slipped a hand into my panties and I almost fainted; but he was insanely gentle, butterfly teasing my clit as though it might break or burst any second. My panties were obstructing his access, so I removed them and then we tangled our limbs and kissed more. I began to kiss his body - that dark, antique marble skin! - but was too shy to take his boxers off and devour his cock as I wanted to. He turned me over onto my back and licked my stomach, kissed my nipples, and then dove into my pussy with his tongue.

Wow.

This was something very new. For all the times I had written about oral sex, fantasised about it, had boys tell me the things they were going to do to me with their tongues, this was the first time I had let anyone go there in real time and space. My pussy was slicker and warmer than it had ever been; his tongue felt amazing, like more appendages than I could count, darting up and down and around and then his mouth sucked my clit, engorging it further with blood, and he shook his head, my clit moving with it. I was no longer a girl lying on a hotel bed in a civilized European city; I had become a puddle of mercury concentrated in my vulva. I didn't feel like it was going to make me come, though, it was too new and shocking. After a long, pleasant time, he licked his way up my body - following a path with his tongue between two moles above my navel and below my right breast, and kissed me on the mouth again. He rolled back and it was my turn to explore his cock with my mouth.

He was a little nervous and not entirely stiff; but I had been reading about fellatio on the internet for years, and I knew what to do. I kissed all around his penis, licking the little groin between thigh and mons (do men have a mons? If not, what is that place called?), breathing hot breath onto his cock, teasing. It twitched and I felt it in my abdomen. I licked around the base, gentle, short licks, growing longer, until I reached the tip with my tongue. I licked and closed my lips and allowed his cock to penetrate my mouth; I heard a sharp intake of breath from him. Taking all of him in and sucking more stiffness into his cock, I moved up and down, varying the pressure of my lips, licking around the head as lightly as I possibly could, flicking my tongue across the glans, tapping, and again licking from base to tip. He was very hard now, and I could see a tiny glisten of precum on the tip, which I hastened to taste - it was pleasant and mild. I put my lips around the head of his cock and sucked gently. I felt his hands at the side of my head, pulling me up, and insisted on getting one more deep lick in before I came up and kissed him.

He guided me towards him and I hesitated slightly with his cockhead almost grazing my vulva.
"Aren't you going to use protection?"
"We will be careful."
I threw caution to the wind and, contrary to everything I believed in, lowered myself slowly onto his cock.

Another wow moment. This was delicious and strange and incredibly erotic. His eyes were closed and he was making little, sharp intakes of breath; his cock was only embedded in me by about an inch, and my pussy was tight and strong and he felt big and hard. I pulled back a little and went further; just another inch. It was insanely hot; his cock stretching me, our skin steaming in the heat; my vulva slick with my excitement and his cock still damp from my mouth's attentions. I pulled back again, and then in one movement impaled myself completely. I sat still, revelling in the feeling of being stabbed, full, stretched, penetrated in my deepest place. All words and thought were gone, lost to the wind, and we began to move together. He reached out for me and pulled my body to his, our hips slowly undulating, and we kissed again. I sat up again, adjusting my weight, riding him lightly and shallow, then letting him right in, my centre of balance at my sacrum. My eyes were closed and I knew nothing except sex and flesh and skin and heat.

"I love you."

My eyes flew open. I was not expecting this; despite my obsession I expected only to be a fling for him, to be cast to the wind when he was bored. He was looking at me through hooded eyes, his hands on my hips. I touched his hands with mine and answered him. He pulled me off his cock, and I kissed him on the mouth, but he kept pushing my body upwards and I was sitting on his face, my thigh muscles burning, his face buried in my pussy. I saw stars and gripped the bed as though it were the rail of a heaving ship and I could be thrown overboard at any second. He pulled my hips closer to his mouth; I was keeping my weight away from his head as much as I could, but he wanted more of me. I heard myself gasping and moaning and he pulled me down his body and back onto his cock, and I kissed him and tasted myself on him. We moved together and he braced me with his body, rolling me over onto my back, still inside me, fucking me. I was a glowing ball of eroticism, but was nowhere near an orgasm; too overwhelmed and too inexperienced. He pressed my shoulders onto the bed and snaked his hips so that he was buried even deeper inside me, stabbing and splitting me. His cock tasted sweet to my pussy and every movement was new and sent sparks and shivers of arousal through my body. He pulled out of me and lay back, pulling my hips to him; then I lay on him with our faces pressed to each others' groins. I tasted more sharp precum on him and fucked his cock with my mouth; he did his best to remain gentlemanly and not thrust hard, and concentrate on eating me out. When it became too much for him we pulled apart and lay together, kissing, his hand in my pants, I lightly stroking his cock and belly.

He went to the bathroom; I lay back on the bed with my knees up, suddenly wondering again what I was doing there. Who was this person? Who was I? Why were we doing this? But then he came back and ran his hand across my smooth teenaged body and down to my cleft and I was back in the drug of sex and he was inside me again and I was experimenting with different ways to move my hips and he was hard, so hard, and filled me, and there really wasn't that much I could do with my hips because he didn't bend sideways, just filled me up more and more and deeper and then he was on his back again, and my mouth was on his cock.

"Can you drink me?"

I nodded, licking and sucking him, all of him in my mouth (thank God for those internet deep-throating lessons), my hands gripping his hips and drawing him further into me, going up and down and licking and pushing and licking up and up and up, and then I decided to play with his frenulum and tickle it from side to side and his cock twitched and prepared, like a pistol being cocked, and I knew he was going to come and I didn't let up with my side-to-side tonguing and then it came, spilling, thick and hot and salty, and I lapped it up and swallowed as he came, and cupped the head in my mouth as more and more spilled out and gently sucked and swallowed and swallowed and swallowed, and then no more came out and I gently gently moved my mouth down over his cock and licksucked it clean one last time, lingering with my lips on the tip.

We lay together, exhausted, holding hands, all tension gone. He got up to go to the bathroom and I started to put my clothes on. We adjusted ourselves in the mirror and left for a nearby sushi restaurant, where he plied me with beautiful food and asked me questions and we indulged in feeling free and hidden and naughty and forbidden and right, our legs pushing together under the table.

And that, my friends, was the first time I ate sex.