"Give me a boob slap", he had said. "Slap me round my face with your tits!".
Now she couldn't believe she was bent over him, slapping his face to and fro with her breasts. And she couldn't believe her nipples were tightening. And she couldn't believe that even she was finding it exciting.
He was laying flat on his back on her bed, and had been deep inside her, but now to reach to boob slap him she had to move forward so just his tip was inside her. Occasionally it felt like he might slip out of her. She didn't want that but he was just adjusting his hips to keep them engaged.
This was fun. Fun sex, he called it. Sex just for fun. Even though she was sure the feelings for both of them ran deeper. Sex with him had always been fun, inventive, and different. And frequent. It seemed he had an insatiable
desire to make her feel like she wanted, needed sex. Not like previously where it had been a one sided duty. She was free to explore and enjoy too. And demand sex.
And she was learning. Learning about him. But more importantly about herself. Finding out what she liked, and didn't, what she needed, and it was liberating. Women after all should enjoy, and take the lead. Sometimes.
She had learned that he didn't need to cum to enjoy it. The look on his face when she orgasmed showed that he was totally focussed on her enjoyment. He
was a machine, relentless in giving her pleasure, in releasing her to find pleasure. And releasing her to pleasure him.
He wasn't exceptional looking, just average, not fat, not thin, although he admitted he carried a pound or two too much, not tall or short, not young or old, he didn't dress expensively, just average. He wasn't fantastically endowed, just average. Small tight backside though.
But when the talk or the play started, those blue eyes took on a look. A look that meant he was focussed on her, on her body, on her pleasure. It seemed that very little wasn't on offer or offered.
Their first date had been ordinary, average, nothing happened. Just two people out together. But now she couldn't believe the change. In either of
them. Boob slapping? Whatever next?
She sank back down on his length. Threw her body and head back and enjoyed the pressure on her special spot. He had found that quickly. Gone were the fumbles in the dark so often talked about but which never discovered her.
"Ok", he said, "Climb off". She did. He turned her over onto her front and restrained her wrists to the top corners of the bed with Velcro straps. She hadn't noticed those straps being there. When did they arrive? And it was her bed! Her head was down on her pillow, turned to one side so she could
breath. Her arms outstretched above her head.
He made her kneel and loosely restrained her knees to her elbows with longer straps. Her back was arched. Her ankles now restrained to the bottom corners of the bed, pulling her open, fully exposing herself to him.
Oil was being dribbled on her back. Hands were gliding over her from her neck to her waist. And back. With each movement the hands went closer. They opened her cheeks to explore. They caressed all of her. Then a finger explored. Oh God. It was on her rose. From behind. Just gently, just a little. She had often wondered what it would feel like. Her cheeks twitched. But she wanted more.
The hands went under her, feeling and exploring. So smooth. She knew he enjoyed her almost hair free smoothness. She had discovered his almost smoothness, except for a small spot, and was intrigued, very early on. When they were fully engaged their small remaining hairs matched and mingled exactly. The hands moved up her back, up her spine, smoothly, to her neck.
Then they were gone and that tongue was suddenly on her again, running from underneath her, over her lips, tickling her folds and openings and running up her back. Then he was standing on the bed, one leg either side of her hips, in front of her hips, and sliding himself into her offered place. Good God.
She was so exposed, so helpless, restrained as she was. But she knew she could stop it at any time, she knew he knew when to stop, before she knew. At least it seemed like that.
Fully inside her he started rhythmically driving in and out. His sack was slapping her, banging against her clitoris. The oil mixed with his own lubricant, which she noticed had been dripping from his length, and her own wetness making it super slippery. Then her cheeks were being pulled apart and a thumb was exploring, around and over and in!
She could feel him suddenly get harder and larger. She knew he couldn't hold back now. She tried to thrust back onto his length and his thumb, but she was too restrained.
She hadn't cum this time and she knew she wouldn't. It was exciting, erotic, but this was his time. So she was happy to let him have fun. Grunting his first jet sprayed deep inside her. Then he withdrew fully and let ropes of
cum spray up her back.
Why not inside her where he could fill her and it could leak out and run down her legs? She felt several jets on her back. Then he was mixing it with the oil with his hands, spreading it all over her, and on her buttocks. It was so hot and smooth.
Then that thumb entered her again.
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