Tall, Dark, and Yummy

My second all the way was one of the most satisfying encounters. I remember him fondly because he fit the ideal profile- tall, dark, and yummy. as in. machete levels, only taller. He had the right bumps in the right places. right, left, up, down. my god.

I got his number from a yahoogroup i was previously part of, and we decided to meet on a Sunday.

We met. He said hi, I said wow. And then he took off his shirt.

Tall. Dark brown skin. Chiseled face- scratch that- chiseled everything.

Hello, muscles.

...

He went to the bed, I went to him. After a few rounds of kissing, licking, kissing, pushing, kissing, grappling, kissing, straddling, and kissing, he pushed me, pinned me with his drool-worthy body, and removed his briefs. and then the world stopped.

i think i forgot how to breathe, then literally did not breathe, while, you know. throat + 6.5 inches = throat exercises.

after that, he pulled me up, and pushed me down, telling- no, commanding me- to get on my knees and hands. He aimed, I held my breath, and he began to thrust like mad. My muscles contracted and I panicked (mind you, he was the first sexual partner after O), but I gradually relaxed and loosened up (haha) a bit.

After that, he pushed me down, turned me over, and pulled my legs over his shoulders. It was the most painful and most pleasurable feeling, seeing the muscles in his chest and stomach contracting, the glorious color of his skin glistening with sweat. He thrust and pounded, I screamed and moaned, and after a few minutes, he let out a loud, guttural moan (which still excites me til now), pumped wildly, and came. He rested on top of me, panting. The smell of him, intoxicating.

He showered. I left. And had the most amazing glow.