The admission slipped out of him over dinner. “I’m into guys, too.” Maybe it should have surprised me. You might think I should have been bothered by it. Instead, a spark of something, electricity maybe, flew through my body. It was a jolt of need, desire, and above all, curiosity about exploring one of my blowjob fantasies. “Tell me more.”
We had only gone out a couple of times. He’d fingered me in the car on the way back to my place last time. I’d cupped his cock in my hand when he kissed me goodnight. That was about it. Slow and steady by my reckoning. Until this strange admission. Oh, telling me he was bisexual wasn’t strange to me. Stating it over nachos was a bit weird, though. I leaned forward as he told me that he loved sucking cock, furtively looking around, worried someone would hear. Was he blushing or was that the heat of desire? Was it turning him on to admit this “dirty” little secret to me?
“You’re kinky and dominant with women. What about men?” This time, he really did duck his head and blush. “I’m whatever feels right at the moment, but I still like the control.” We didn’t touch in the car when he dropped me off. Each lost in our own thoughts, but I saw the hard-on he tried to cover up. Cocks like his aren’t easy to hide. He didn’t try to kiss me this time. Instead, he leaned forward and whispered in my ear.
“I’d let you watch.” My breathing hitched in my throat. I felt the rush of warmth between my legs. “And yes, I’d let you join in.”
Was one of my blowjob fantasies about to become real?
He kissed my forehead and walked away, leaving me standing in my doorway, breathing as if I’d just run a race. I can’t tell you if it’s the picture in my head of this tall man, whose chest I know is covered in a thick mat of fur, on his knees sucking cock that’s got me turned on. Or if it’s the thought that maybe one day, I could watch him. Being a bit of a voyeur, it doesn’t really matter. Maybe I’d join in; maybe I wouldn’t.
But the picture in my head that drove my hand to my clit tonight has nothing to do with being in the middle. Oh no. I want to see his tongue swirl around the head of a cock. I want his lips and mouth stretched wide. Would he make those beautiful gagging noises as his throat was fucked? Would he let someone else smack his face or his butt? Would he be allowed to touch himself, stroking and fisting his shaft while he pleasured another? Would he come in thick, streaming jets or would he be denied?
The more I think about making one of my blowjob fantasies real, the faster my hand moves. My imagination is in overdrive, and my pussy is following. As my toes curl and my hips lift, trying to get closer to what, I don’t know, the pressure mounts. I’m going to explode, and it’s going to feel so fucking good. But not as good as watching him slurp and suck, kneel and submit. I want his hair pulled and tears to stream down his face. Maybe his tormentor will come on his face at the last minute or on the floor and make him clean his mess with his tongue.
"Oh, God, yes!!! This man who could command me with a single look, who soaks my panties, yes, let him worship cock and submit to another while I watch!"
My orgasm explodes with these blowjob fantasies in my head, heels digging into the bed as my hand flies across my clit. Spasms overtake me. I scream into the dark, empty room. As I come back down to earth, an idea hits me. Once I recover and catch my breath, I grab my phone and shoot off a quick text.
“I’ve got a friend I’d like to introduce you to.”
Kayla Lords is a freelance writer, sex blogger, and a masochistic babygirl living the 24/7 D/s life. Find and follow her on Fuck.com.
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