CareerCup

It had been four months since Jonah and I broke up. That isn't a long time by any stretch of the imagination, but we'd had an active sex life right up to the end. That was never our problem. Although I don't consider myself to be a predominately sexual person, I still have needs which aren't being meant. Consequently, I could not stop thinking about Brian. Brian is an older man in the neighborhood, living alone at sixty after his divorce over a decade ago. Though he is friendly, not much is known about his social life. My mother has frequently observed the strangeness (to her mind) of a man as attractive as Brian not seeming to have a romantic life. I'd moved in with my parents while I found a new place. The neighborhood was nice - not one of those subdivisions, just a scattering of modest, single-family homes. Although I'd met many of the neighbors before, I'd gotten to know them in greater depth since the move. At my mother's request last week, I'd gone with a jar of chicken soup in hand to check on our neighbor, Brian, because he'd mentioned he was coming down with a cold or possibly the flu. He hadn't answered the door to my insistent knocking, even though I could tell he was home. He'd injudiciously left his side door unlocked. Knowing how sick he'd b been, I'd worried that he was passed out on the floor in need of resuscitation. Imagine my chagrin when I pushed open his bedroom door to find him in the process of satisfying himself. Although I'd made a hasty retreat, I'd been impressed by the sheer magnitude of his all-too-briefly glimpsed manhood. The next day, he'd been at my parents' house to return the jar and we'd cleared the air sharing a hearty laugh at the supreme awkwardness of the situation. Despite the passage of a week during which I've waved my friendly wave as I passed by his house periodically, my mind continues its preoccupation with the thought of Brian's naked body. When my mom suggests that I bring some muffins over for Brian's breakfast, I readily consent, a plan forming in my mind. I set off after ensuring that I look half-way presentable. Once again, I'm at Brian's door. Upon receiving no reply to my determined tattoo, I turn the handle. It's déjà vu all over again. Shaking off the feeling of repetition, I deviate from my actions the prior week by locking the door behind me. I call out his name a few times, but not too loudly. Having caught a brief glance at his SUV secure beneath the carport, I know he's home. As I ascend the staircase, my pulse increases with the surreality of the situation. I can't quite believe I'm about to do this. Maybe he's taking a nap. There was no guarantee that I would find the situation to be anything like I'd imagined. There is a telltale flickering of the television light under the doorway which simultaneously boosts my anxiety and relieves me of the burden of volition. It was a direct repetition of prior circumstances, almost a cosmic confirmation of my plan. My knock sounds timorous in the silent house. No answer. So, I'm doing this. I open the door. Sure enough, there he is, sprawled in his bed. His hand freezes in the act of self-satiation as he catches sight of me. "Ellen! Jesus!" he pulls frantically at the covers, the tenting of the sheet only serving to emphasize his situation. "Sorry, Brian. I knocked, but the door was unlocked." My unapologetic tone belies my words. Without looking, I place the Ziploc bag containing the muffins on the dresser beside the television. Holding his gaze, I walk slowly towards the bed. I may not be his ideal woman, gods know I didn't have anything approaching porno-grade boobs, but I was determined. "I'm ok, I'm not dying!" His attempt to cover up his embarrassment with forced jocularity fails, his laugh more like a nervous whinny. "Glad to hear that." Sexy isn't really my thing, though I try out the line I'd prepared in advance. "Is there anything I can ...uh...help you with?" The words sound far clunkier when uttered in real life. Although this is a sexually liberated era where women should feel confident initiating sex, I've never had that type of confidence. Despite my pathetic attempt at seductive banter, my body reacts to his proximity. My nerve centers tingle with anticipation, warmth spreading up my thighs, suffusing my inner core with a heat I haven't felt in quite a while. I falter for a moment, steadying myself against the dresser as a wave of desire washes over me. "What? No!" His alarm is hardly flattering. Our eyes are locked, a battle of wills which I have no intention of losing. Finally, there is a flicker deep within his bright green eyes. His incredulity yields beneath the steady onslaught of my intensity. His voice is barely a whisper as he seeks confirmation. "Do you mean...?" "Mmmhmm," a throaty purr reassures him. Releasing my death grip on the edge of the dresser, I approach him. He can't take his eyes off me as I cross the distance to his bedside. As though emerging from a dream, he shakes his head. "Um, Ellen? I think you should leave." I can almost feel his breath upon my face. My heart is pounding. I'm dizzy with desire and the fear of what I'm about to do. I've never done anything this bold before. Ignoring his request, I'm trembling all over as I push back the white sheet, exposing his proud erection. He gasps in disbelief as my hand touches the silky texture of his penis, slick with some form of lubrication. "Are you sure? Cuz I'm pretty sure there's something I can help you out with." He groans, his eyes widening with comprehension. The sensation of my supple fingers upon his most sensitive skin send an electric tremor coursing down his body. His eyes snap shut, overwhelmed as he delectates in the unwonted attention. "Ellen, we shouldn't! We're neighbors! I'm friends with your parents for Chrissakes!" his voice catches in a sharp gasp as I increase the pressure on his shaft, slowly rolling my fingers along the incredible length. With a supreme effort, he grasps my hands, holding them away from his member. "This isn't a good idea, Ellen. I get that you're lonely. I'm sorry for your breakup with Jonah. But really, this isn't right." "No, it isn't a good idea," I agree, tilting my head to the side. He seems relieved as I extricate my hands from his almost painful grasp. Yet his eyes burning into mine reveal the truth. He wants this as much as I do. Slowly, I unbutton my blouse, the lacy coral bra showing starkly against my milk-pale skin as my shirt succumbs to the force of gravity, fluttering to the floor. "It's a bloody great idea." "Very, um...convenient," I continue, unhooking the button securing my jeans, letting them fall to the floor. His gaze wavers, he almost gives into the temptation to watch as my body is revealed, ripe for the taking. "Really, we shouldn't." His tone is as firm as his cock. I hesitate. Doubt assails me. Oh gods, I've read him all wrong! Here I was, offering myself up to him on a platter and he didn't want me! "I'm sorry!" I'm close to tears as I stoop to gather my clothes. I'd have to move. I could never look him in the face again after this humiliation. I'll move back to Connecticut. No, wait, that wasn't far enough. I'd move to Australia, Antarctica ... anywhere but here! "It's not that I don't want to..." His hasty interjection barely penetrates my fog of humiliation. Yet still, he holds my gaze. I read in his eyes a pained determination not to survey the soft contours of my body. His voice is pleading, begging me to understand. "It's just that I'm friends with your parents. I don't want there to be any...strangeness between us. I'm not...I'm not in love with you, Ellen." My relief is so great, I almost laugh. "Is that all? I'm not in love with you either, Brian. But I figure, here we are: two unattached adults with basic needs. There's no reason why we can't just..." I pause, trying to strike upon the appropriate euphemism. "...help each other out." I reach for him again. He seizes my arm, his green eyes boring intensely into my own, measuring my intentions. "You mean it? I mean, why?" "Just a whim. It seems like you're missing something out of your life," I incline my head towards the television. "Gods know I am. We know each other, so it's not like we're some random strangers. I like you, you like me. We're not hurting anyone." Capitulating at last, he releases my hand to continue its exploratory journey. Despite the intervening conversation, his member had lost none of its tumescence, poised as his mind was between propriety and desire. As my hand once more touches his skin, he groans, pulling me hard against him. His lips press against mine in a bruising kiss. As his tongue parts my lips, his hands are on my bra, brushing the straps from my shoulders, trying to release the clasp. I pause my eager ministrations to come to his aid. With a triumphant laugh, I release the clasp, my breasts press against his hairy chest in a ticklish embrace. He moans as my hand resumes its attentions to his cock. We tumble backward into the broad expanse of his king-sized bed, lit by the glow of the television, neither of us caring that it was still on. The sounds of exuberant copulation are merely a faint echo in the background. Pulling my panties aside, his finger slips into the slick wetness of my desire. A glorious shiver envelops my being as his fingers caress my clitoris before plunging deep into my body. "Oh god," I moan into his lips, gently massaging his shaft with increased urgency. I don't know if I can wait to have him inside me; just being touched makes me want to come. Hastily, he removes my panties, hurling them over his shoulder as he pulls himself up, steadying himself against me. My legs fall open like a blossom responding to the heat of the sun. I could feel his throbbing head against the entrance to my private world. "Are you sure?" he asks hoarsely, searching my face. In reply, I thrust my hips upwards to meet his throbbing member, crying out with relief and hunger as I feel his length crest the threshold. Needing no further prompting, he presses gingerly forward. I gasp. Perhaps it is a bit too big. The sensation of his penis bumping against my cervix is momentarily excruciating, but I'm too caught up in the throes of desire to care. I want all of him inside me now. "Faster! Fuck me hard!" My hot breath tickles his ear as he bucks against me, his entire frame trembling with pent up desire. He spears me, again and again, the heavenly friction building between our bodies, joining us together. "Oh god, don't stop!" I cry out, pressing my legs farther apart to accommodate his amazing seven-ish inches. "Oh god, oh god, please!" Moans tear free from my lips. I'm pleading, not even sure whom I'm addressing or what I'm asking for. "Don't stop! You feel sooo good!" My head knocks back against the mattress as his powerful thrusts build to a frenzy. Yet I want more. My hips meet his with the strong, inexorable undulations of the tide. My legs wrap around his body, as inescapable as our inevitable release. "More! Oh please, Brian, more! I can't believe how good you feel!" It's his turn to cry out, a wounded, animalistic sound as he comes, his body bucking against mine in rapid frenzy. I pull him ever tighter, the tips of my fingers tingling as the glorious orgasm sweeps over me. My hands curl like claws, nails digging into his back. He cries out once more, shuddering feebly against me, the aftershocks of pleasure. Panting and sweat soaked, his lips press against my temple. I whimper as my body continues to crest the ecstatic wave. Feeling incandescent atop this unrelenting joy, I'm satisfied yet I find myself whispering, "More, Brian, more! More, please!" He shudders one last time, falling exhausted onto his side. There is a sudden emptiness where his penis once rode. Shooting me a grin, he pants, "That...was...incredible!" When I don't reply, he rolls over to look at me, "Wasn't it?" "Oh my god," I gasp, curling my body around his, reveling in the sensation of skin upon skin. Tremors, pale reflections of the ones which shook me to the core, still reverberating through my frame. Finally, I gather enough presence of mind to reply, "God, yes!" "Don't look now, but you're glowing." His complacent, Cheshire cat grin as he props himself upon his elbow is endearingly proud. "I needed that," I confess, still catching my breath. "So did I," he concurs. "Thank you." "No, no, no, thank you," I reply with exaggerated courtesy. We burst out laughing. We lay panting and spent. Aimlessly staring at the ceiling, I enjoy the peaceful feeling which inevitably follows physical release. "Well, that was unexpected," he ventures, breaking the silence, his fingers tracing the snowy white contours of my shoulders. Drowsy in the post coital glow, I summon the strength to vocalize my agreement in a satisfied purr. "Mmmm." "Are you sure you're ok with this?" His tone is anxious as his finger halts, poised above the soft curve of my breast. "Mmmhmm. You?" "I've got no complaints." As he links his fingers together behind his head, joining me in contemplating the boring divots in his ceiling, he looks like the cat that's swallowed the canary. "I think it's every man's fantasy to have a beautiful young woman come in and offer to gratify him sexually." "Hardly a young woman." His mischaracterization is as touching as it is flattering. Being thirty-six hardly qualifies me as young. I clarify for his benefit, "By the way, we were gratifying each other. You didn't have all the fun." "Yes, yes, of course," he mumbles, his fingers tracing lazy circles around my areola. I can tell there's something else he's working up the courage to ask. "Would you...would you mind if we went again?" "You didn't think you were getting off that easily?" Literally and figuratively, I think to myself. I like my own lame jokes quite well, but am never sure if others are as appreciative. Turning on his side, I feel the gentle pressure of his returning strength against my belly. "Let me help you out with that." Success has granted me the confidence I'd previously lacked. Leaning past his chest, my mouth seeks the spongy tip of his penis. Gingerly, I place my lips upon the glans, my tongue tracing the hole lazily, prodding, exploring the bell-like curve of his penis head. He draws a sharp breath, the warmth of my mouth travels down the considerable length of his cock, my hands squeezing his shaft where my mouth can't reach. "Oh yessss!" His moan of anticipation is followed quickly by action. His fingers seek the warmth of my cavern, rubbing the clitoris heavily before plunging deeply yet again. Sucking harder in response, my fingers weave light circles over his balls. "Ahhhh!" My mouth is full of him, yet I can't resist the urge to vocalize my enjoyment. We lay there pleasuring one another, my movements increasing in strength and purpose. Abruptly, he disengages my head, bringing me face to face yet again. Languorously, his tongue licks the moisture from my lips. "I have to be inside you!" He breathes against my hair, his fingers continuing their questing thrusts inside me. "Would you mind...if you took me from behind?" My suggestion is met with a groan signaling hearty approbation. Enthusiastically, his hands aid the repositioning, placing my legs so that my ass fits into the concave curvature of his stomach. As his hands part my ass cheeks, I gasp, "Not the butt!" Sluggish understanding dawns and he re-positions his cock against the entrance of my inner sanctum. Gingerly, he glides inside. I buck and shudder at the renewed sensation. If possible, it feels even better than before. All of my nerve endings anticipate the continuation of this glorious gratification. I pressed against him harder in an effort to take him all. His movements are slower this time. He seems to be savoring the experience. His strokes are tantalizingly deliberate, pulling himself almost all the way out before thrusting back into me as far as he can go. "You like that?" His excitement is contagious as his hips grind into my ass. "Oh, yes!" His breath is hot against the nape of my neck, reminding me of a particularly pleasurable experience I'd had with a previous partner. Somewhere between my memory and my lips, my suggestion transforms into a demand, "Pull my hair!" "What?" his voice is groggy, intoxicated with absorption in the moment. For clarity's sake, I turn my face so that my request is no longer muffled by the pillow. "Pull my hair!" Hesitantly, he touches my long silky tresses, gently lifting them with his shaking fingers. "Harder!" I cry, enjoying the counterbalancing sensation of increasing discomfort in my scalp versus the pure pleasure of his huge cock filling me up inside. His groan is the only acknowledgement I require. His hands twine deeply in my hair. After a moment of hesitation, he pulls my head back firmly, the roots of my hair stiff with tension. "Oh god, yes! Just like that!" "You like that, eh?" From his tone of delighted surprise and the growing assurance of his hands upon my hair, I can tell that this unexpected request lends greater excitement to our exertions. The strength of his thrusts increase in frequency and pressure. I press against him, rubbing my clit with my free hand. I'm out of my mind in a state of heightened consciousness, each contrasting sensation multiplying the strength of the sweet tension deep inside me. We build to another crescendo, our bodies thrusting against one another. "Oh god! Please don't stop! Please fuck me harder! Harder! Harder!" I can't contain my shrieks as need outweighs discretion. Our combined exertions escalate to a fever pitch, the blessed friction a maddening combination of desperate hunger for more and the irresistible drive towards consuming release. He comes first with an extended moan, his hands grasping my head backwards, an exquisitely painful yet untenable position. With my back arched in an almost perfect semi-circle, my ass presses harder against his hips, the entirety of his solid girth pulsing its load deep within me. "Oh, Brian! Your magnificent cock!" I crow in triumph, my hips convulsing wildly, squeezing the last of his hardness with the myriad muscles inside my pussy walls. Blessed release bubbles though my veins. I grip him as tightly as I can, yet still he slips from my greedy warmth. I cry out again. "Did I hurt you too bad?" he asks, cooling passion allowing for the tempering of animalistic need. "No." I reassure him with a smile, trying to catch my breath. It seems to take an unreasonable amount of effort to turn my head to catch his eye. I slur my satisfaction, "That was perfect." "Good," his voice comes in short gasps. "I'm glad. I've never done that before. I wanted to make sure I did it right." "The hair pulling?" He nods. "I really enjoy it. The question remains, did you like it?" It never occurred to me to ask how the experience was on the giving end. "Yes. I just thought I might've ..." he lowers his voice. "Might've hurt you." "Sorry to alarm you," I wheeze a giggle. "I was enjoying the sensation of having you inside me. I didn't want you to get out." "I didn't want to get out, but biology..." There is a hint of ruefulness in his laugh relieved laugh. I curl closer to him. "Thanks, Brian," I whisper, nuzzling his neck. I lick the sweat trickling down, the saltiness reminding me of how thirsty I am. He groans again. "You are amazing, Ellen Engel. I can't get over it. Where did you learn to give a blowjob like that?" "Oh, did you like that?" My grin is arch beneath his complimentary words. Yet I avert my eyes demurely, a sop to modesty. "It wasn't anything special."