Closed-door Affair

Once again, I was woken up, by the slow and carefully dragging of the cashmere blanket I recently bought, followed by the unhurried movements to undo the only button on my briefs. Two fingers, then clamped my semi-hard erection to aim it through the slit in those boxers I slept nightly in. As I felt my foreskin rolling down, the coldness of the room caused my teeth to shut tightly together.

What came next, was soothing to say the least. No one would mistaken, the warmth and softness of lips going over, and down the peaking wood. A nimble, glib tongue flicked at its tip, moving in circles, before resting comfortable under the length of the then-fully erected member. The minute that passed, felt like an eternity, as it thickened sideways, and stretched upwards.

As much as I hate to enjoy the experience, it was hard to resist, the slippery ascend and descend of those pink lips I have seen too many times, anatomy etched so deeply in my mind, over the nights that such has occured.

‘hey’, a whisper I knew better to keep mum at, only took a second to go away. It was the occasional cue, to check if I was awake. And rightfully speaking, I wasn’t.

Not even my eyes, would take a peep through those eyelids I could easily part. It was a dream, a perfect one without any faces, for the better or worse. That night, I received more than I had expected. The up-down motion, lubricated by saliva, driven by lust, went on for longer than my body could handle.

There was no need to guess, for I knew, for I couldn’t help but worry, about how tight it felt down there. Blood was depleted everywhere, to plump up that muscular organ, thinning the bare skin that was giving it its shape.

At last, it was over. I sensed the mattress sinking, rising, before sinking again, for a series of maneuvers my imaginative mind couldn’t comprehend. What’s taking so long? I asked myself.

A pair of lips touched the sensitive tip again, but it didn’t split like earlier. Instead, my rock-hard cock had to do that, to pry apart a gap I never expect, nor wanted, to be in. A long, moist, narrow fleshy opening worked its way down my elongated shaft, until it was an inch away from my torso.

I thought I heard a gasp, or not.

I hope it wasn’t me, though I was barely breathing.

It moved, not me, but it. Upwards unrestrained, then downwards, controlled. Again it went, faster, but still withheld. It wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, and it was coming closer to my body each time. As I had assumed, it wouldn’t be long, before it sat firmly on my groin, fully embedding my manhood inside.

I heard a sigh, a very, very relieving one.

‘sorry.. i’m so sorry.’

Those words were spoken loud enough for me to hear, but certainly insufficient to wake me. So it seemed, that my cock, the throbbing, twitching one in disbelief, would be ridden faster, harder, and deeper, to the point I was pushed into the bed.

A queef was heard, among the juicy noises of our wrongful intimacy. Was all lost? Was there nothing left holding back for? It had outright turned into full-fledged sex, comprising of a pussy, slamming on cock trapped deep within.

Was that half the body weight bouncing on my hips? I had expected more, but that was good. The moans of sex, gasps of pleasure, yelps of surprise, they helped me last longer.

Then it ended. My excitement was overwritten by discomfort. Being overly-sensitive at the summit, how could I not fear the sudden contractions, the rush of thick, viscous nectar, the impatience, the narcissistic domination, all well-expressed through the painful, violent strokes delivered on my hip bone.

Deafening exhalation, dirty slurping, kinky squeals, they were all picked up by my ears in the quiet, cooling room. The increasing ferocity got to me, with ensuing pauses and continuation of our unconventional contact.

Call it luck, or experience, that my eruption was detected before it came. The heavenly orifice left my pinnacle quicker than how it was devoured. Those relaxed, warmer lips then returned to my volcano, making one swift downward-stroke to hold it at a depth one would choke at.

The natural reflex, reflux, completed the circle to extract my elixir, shifting away as more poured down the esophagus. At the end, all but the little red head was exposed. I was sure some was gathered at the jaws.

And then it all flowed down my rod. Warm against the cold. Stickiness useless against the saliva that coated most of my cock. A tongue lapped some up, a few times from the bottom-up.

Back into my undies, the little one went. Soiled, tamed, and pleased. In seconds, I was alone in bed once again. A peck went over my forehead, nose, lips and finally, on the collapsing tepee of my briefs.

‘goodnight my little boy.’


I whispered as the door swung shut without closing.

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