The humble hand-job


The hand-job is an often overlooked aspect of sexual activity; which is slightly ironic since, for many of us, it was the first overtly sexual act that we ever performed on another person. In my own particular case, I was 14 when I did it.

There was someone extremely exciting about the whole thing; the feeling of his cock growing hard in my hand,the moans of pleasure as I teased him with my fingers, the stiffening of his body and increasing raggedness of his breathing as his climax approached, and then the explosive release of his load when I finally took him past of no return.

Similarly, feeling his fingers pump in and out, twisting around inside me, stretching me as he attempted to work another inside my cunt really got me going. When his thumb pressed against my clit, my orgasm was so intense I thought I might faint.

For me, much of the enjoyment came from discovering the types of touches that drove him wild and then learning to prolong proceedings as much as possible; teasing, almost torturing him until he could take no more.

Of course, it wasn’t all one way traffic. I enjoy being teased too. Fingers driven skilfully into my cunt combined with clit being rubbed and flicked will give me an orgasm every bit as enjoyable as one resulting from a bloody good fucking. For the first few months as a sexually active person, until I discovered the joys of having him go down on me, every orgasm I experienced was either as a result of either his fingers or mine.

Today, the hand-job still plays an important part of my sexual repertoire; sometimes as part of foreplay, and sometimes as an event in its own right. Still the aim is the same, to give Master C as much pleasure as possible, and delaying his release for as long as possible. In the same way, Master C will skilfully use His fingers to take me to the brink of climax and then hold me there, hovering on the precipice until He decides whether or not it is time for me to come..

Of course, since those early days, I’ve also added my mouth and my boobs to my arsenal if ‘weapons’ that can be employed. Hand-jobs and blow-jobs work particularly well in tandem, but sometimes there is a lot of fun to be had from reverting back to those more “innocent” days of early sexual exploration.

Mutual masturbation can be a highly enjoyable experience; having Master C’s fingers working inside my cunt as I’m jerking Him off, both of us cuddled together can, in its own way, be every bit as intimate, sometimes even more so, than an intense fucking.

It also has the advantage of being something that can be done, almost blatantly in a public situation, for example on a train or in a cinema. A strategically placed jacket, a surreptitious undoing of the flies and you’re pretty much good to go.

Hands, and in particular fingers, are so much more versatile compared to cocks, cunts and tongues, and touch is such an important sense. The hand-job is almost an intrinsic part of sex-play, be it on our own, for our own pleasure, or with a partner. Far from being a solitary experience, masturbation can be a wonderfully shared source of pleasure, so let’s hear it for those wonderfully flexible digits that have been the source of so much pleasure.

#WickedWednesday Kink of the Week
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It’s not just about cock


I don’t claim to speak on behalf of the female population at large, but as I see things, there are four important parts of his body that a man should use when it comes to satisfying us women.  The more of these he can apply, the more satisfying any given sexual encounter is likely to be for us members of the fairer sex; and keeping us satisfied is, of course, the primary duty of those rugged, hairy beasts we choose to give our bodies to.

I suppose I could have also included the face as a fifth, since looks, and indeed physical attraction as a whole is, often the starting point; without attraction, sex isn’t likely to happen and the rest becomes academic. Also, attractiveness is important to blokes too. Furthermore, it’s almost impossible to quantify. Beauty is, as they say, only skin deep and very much in the eye of the beholder.

So, without any further ado, and in no particular order, I give you my essential men’s’ naughty bits.

1. Brain
So it’s a commonly held belief that men don’t have enough blood to supply both ends of their bodies but, to be honest, we women can be just as bad. The brain is often overlooked as a sexual organ but it is responsible for intelligence, wit, charm, attentiveness, creativeness and experimentation; all things that we women appreciate. Granted, depending on our mood, or what we’re looking for, the relative importance of each of the above elements will vary in relation to each other. In some cases, eg, in the case of a drunken, one night fumble, their importance may seem to vanish altogether but, at some subconscious level, they are still there. The simple fact is, you need to engage our minds before you will ever get the chance to engage any other part of our anatomy.

2. Mouth
Possibly the most versatile of the sexual organs in that it can be used in so many ways.

First, you can use it to tell us how good we look and how sexy we are (hint: you can never do this too often). You can tell us what you intend to do to us. You can ask us what we like (no, really, you can actually do this…). You can also moan and murmur with pleasure as we unleash our talents on you, letting us know how much you are enjoying our attentions. Believe it or not, some of us do like to be told even though it’s generally pretty obvious. Comparisons with exes (and/or other current partners for the benefit of the polyamorous) can sometimes be welcome, but only where favourable. When I’ve got my lips wrapped around your cock, the last thing I want to hear is that I’m almost as good as so-and-so, so if we aren’t actually the best you’ve ever had, either learn to lie (you’re guys and it’s sex we’re talking about after all so it should come naturally to you), or keep it zipped.

Second, there’s kissing. Be it soft, loving and tender, or rough and frantic, we love to be kissed, anywhere and everywhere. No part of our body is immune to touch of your lips. Sometimes, a good passionate snog is all we need (especially when our location means that getting naked and getting down to it would probably get us arrested). Kisses can be a simple show of affection or the can be a way of keeping us simmering until a more suitable time and appropriate location for more full on action presents itself.

Thirdly, there’s the tongue. It’s often been said that the only people who really know how to go down on a women are other women. While it may be true that, as women, we know how we like our cunts to be treated and so, as a result, we tend to go down on other women the way we would like them to go down on us, whereas guys tend to be a little more direct in their approach, I’ve always found that, with sufficient practice and familiarity with what the woman in question likes, men can be every bit as good. Different, yes, but just as satisfying. The key thing is, if you are uncertain, ask, don’t guess. We women are pretty good at telling you what we want when it comes to everything else and sex is no different. Most of us will appreciate such a show of consideration and attentiveness and it will almost definitely be rewarded.

3. Hands
Touch is very important. Whether it be fleeting contacts, gentle caresses through to sensual massage, or full body contact, we are tactile creatures and respond as such.

Of course, it’s not just the hands and fingers; hugs are equally important when it comes to making us feel wanted and appreciated. I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, but in my opinion, the post-coital cuddle is almost as an important part of the sexual experience as the act itself. That extended moment of shared closeness, both partners bathed in the warm glow of their exertions as their bodies slowly come down from their respective sexual highs is, for me anyway, as satisfying as any orgasm.

Of course, living as we do in this digital age, the fingers can be involved in another sexual activity: the naughty text/IM/email. For me, many sessions have began hours before there is any physical contact with a partner sending me flirtatious texts, each one getting that little more explicit than the last. By the time we actually get together, the anticipation is often so intense that no foreplay is actually necessary; I’m literally ready to do them on sight.

Clearly, this may not work for everyone, but if your partner is amiable to such things, try it, the results may be surprising.

4. Cock
Yes, so finally we get there, the “main event”. I think there’s a lot of truth to the adage about it not being what you’ve got but how well you use it. For me, a nice length is between 5½” and 7½”, but so long as I can feel it going in, I’m happy. If it really has to be ‘big’ I prefer thicker to longer.

The worst shag I ever had was with a guy who had a bigger than average cock. I think he was more concerned that I should be impressed with his size rather than his ability. In the end, it hurt and was all over very quickly. It may have been good for him, but it did next to nothing for me.

In an ideal world, I’d take size and technique (actually, I have that with Master C) but, failing that, I’ll settle for ability. Size on its own just doesn’t do it for me.

That said, however, it’s important that it isn’t just your cock that you are using. The reality is, for best results (for the woman anyway), the cock has to be used in conjunction with all of the others. I know, when you’re plunging into the warm wet confines of her cunt, or she has her lips wrapped around your shaft, that your concentration may be a bit vague (note earlier comment about insufficient blood supply), but don’t lose sight of the fact she should be enjoying it too; if in doubt, ask. Don’t forget to keep up the touch too, much as she may be (and she probably is) enjoying your cock stretching and filling her, remember the other bits too. I love having my boobs licked, sucked and caressed during sex and I’m pretty sure most other women do as well.

Depending on the position employed, use your hands to touch those bits of her that she likes to have touched (for me, back of neck, small of back, bum and inner thighs. If she likes it when you talk dirty, do that (within reason). And, above all, don’t forget to keep kissing! If you aren’t face to face, kiss whatever bit is in reach of your mouth.

OK, so it won’t be like that every time. Sometimes, what we want is a wham-bam-thank you-ma’am quickie but, if you take on board what she wants and respond to her needs and desires, the results will be worth it.

Who said we women weren’t demanding? Oh, that’s right, no one.

#WickedWednesday

Discarding my virginity


Let us be very clear, I did not lose my virginity; that has always implied a certain carelessness to me, and there was nothing careless about my first time. No, my first time was very much deliberate; I actively discarded my virginity.

As I’ve mentioned before, I did it for the first time a couple of weeks after my 15th birthday. There was no real significance to the timing; I didn’t deliberately wait until I turned 15, it’s simply that this was the first opportunity that presented itself. My boyfriend at the time and I already had a pretty active sex life and had had so for several months; the only thing absent from that sex life was actual penetrative sex. It was an omission I became increasingly keen to rectify.

It wasn’t that I felt under any pressure to get rid of my virginity, although a couple of my friends had already dispensed with theirs, it was simply that I wanted to experience it. I knew what it felt like to have a vibrator up me, I knew what it felt like to have my fingers up me, I even knew what it felt like to have someone else’s fingers up me, having experienced that from my boyfriend and my best girl friend, but I wanted to feel his cock (or, if I’m being completely honest, any cock) inside me. I knew what it felt like in my mouth, but in the same way that sucking your thumb feels nothing like sucking a cock, I imagined that being fucked by his cock would feel nothing being fucked by my, or his fingers.

The opportunity arose because on that particular Saturday both his parents were at work, and we would have his house to ourselves.

It all started of in what had become a familiar pattern; lying on his bed, kissing and cuddling, with quite a lot of groping and fondling. At a certain point, he got my top off and started lavishing attention on my boobs. Thereafter, I proceeded to suck him off, being rewarded with a lovely thick load of cum, which I hungrily swallowed down.

Pausing only to catch his breath, and to get me out of my jeans and knickers, he went down on me and ate me to a couple of shuddering climaxes that were intensified, in part, by the anticipation of what would happen next.

As my cunt spasmed around his fingers and my clit thronged in response to his tongue, I asked him if he was hard again. When he informed me that he was, I responded by saying, “Good, because I want your cock inside me.” The wolfish smile he gave me in return was almost enough to make me come again.

As he positioned himself above me, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what it woulld feel like. I had a pretty good idea that images of cascading waterfalls and fireworks were a load of guff; I’d had enough orgasms without experiencing such imagery to know that wasn’t going to happen.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I nodded and felt myself growing even moister as the head of his cock pressed against me. He slid into me slowly but easily. It was obvious he was enjoying feeling his cock being engulfed by my cunt as much as I was enjoying the sensation of him slowly filling me.

It felt good, I felt wonderfully, deliciously full. His cock was so much thicker and fuller than anything that I had ever had up me before. I had expected it to hurt and was pleasantly surprised that it didn’t; just a slight discomfort and a lovely feeling of being stretched and filled.

As he moved inside me, slowly at first, but with steadily increasing pace, I opened my eyes and saw him smiling down at me. “Harder,” I said, “You can go a bit harder.”

He picked up the pace, pulling out and thrusting in, his body colliding with mine, slamming against me with every stroke.

Suddenly, his face contorted, his body went stiff. He groaned: “Shit! Fuck! Morag! Fuck!” (or something equally as coherent and eloquent) as his cock erupted inside me. I felt the warmth of his cum inside me as he slumped on top of me. As his cock slipped out of my cunt and I felt his cum trickle out of me.

I didn’t come; I didn’t care. I had been fucked and it had been good. The second time we did it, later that afternoon was better still. Practice, as they say, makes perfect, and while we never achieved perfection in the time that we were together, the sex continued to get better and increasingly satisfying.

All in all, it’s fair to say, I enjoyed my first time.

#WickedWednesday

Think of a number


Think of a number. Now double it. Subtract the day of the month your birthday falls on. Divide by your bra size/inside leg measurement. Add forty-two. Round to the nearest whole number.

Yes, this is my take on that perennial old chestnut: “The Number!” You know the one I mean; the one about how many people we’ve had sex with.

It’s a question that comes up from time to time and, it seems, it is one that we are endlessly fascinated with.

Personally, I’m in the mildly curious but generally couldn’t give a fuck camp. It’s an interesting insight into the person you are currently fucking, possibly a handy bit of trivia to store away for those Mr and Mrs type quizzes, but, otherwise not important.

The problem with it is, that when you start thinking about it, it’s not actually a straightforward question.

What exactly counts as a sexual partner?

If you limited it strictly to men and women that I’ve fucked, and if you give me some time, I could probably work it out. It would, however, take me considerably longer than it took Andie MacDowell’s character in Four Weddings and a Funeral. But then, you see, I’ve included women, and I haven’t had penetrative sex with women, only oral and finger play. So does than mean that I also now have to include all those men with whom I have only ever sucked their cocks? On the assumption that it does, then I have no chance at all of determining the total; given that my penchant for the drunken, random, back of the pub blow-job means that I really don’t know.

Still, even if I could, somehow, divine the total number of men who’s cocks I’ve sucked and add it to the number of men I’ve fucked (eliminating any duplication as I go), and then add on the women I’ve had sex with, does this give me my number?

What about the lad I jerked off at a friend’s 16th birthday party? What about the boy in my class whom I let thoroughly finger me so I could scrounge a cigarette off him when I was at school? What about that boy that first kissed and sucked my nipples and made me feel oh so good when we were both horny teenagers, even if I didn’t actually come? What about…?

You see my point though. Clearly “the number” does not simply refer to penetration. If it did, then I would have had no female sexual partners, and I most certainly have had sex with women. But, if sexual partners are not limited to those that you have had penetrative sex with, where do you draw the line?

Orgasm perhaps? Well maybe, but does that mean if I don’t come, I haven’t had sex? No, surely not. On the other hand, does the boy who snuck his hand up my top to cop a feel while snogging me at a school disco also count? Again, I don’t think so (although, had I not wanted him to do it, it could possibly have counted as sexual assault).

So, given that I can’t suitably define what a sexual partner is, how can I possible tell you how many I’ve had?

Let’s just say I’ve had rather a lot and let it go at that…

#MasturbationMonday

Choked


Master C kisses me as He puts His belt around my neck. My cunt grows wet as He pulls it into place around me; not too tight, just enough that it lightly presses against my skin.

“Are you ready, little slut?”

“Yes Sir!”

I lie back, tilt my head back over the arm of the sofa and open my mouth. With His belt held firmly in his fist, Master C pushes His cock into my mouth.

He drives it in deep; in this position His cock pushes deep down my throat. Without the belt, it would be hard to breath; with it, it is almost impossible.

He fucks my throat with long, slow, deep strokes. As His cock moves between my lips, Master C begins to pull on his belt, slowly tightening its grip around my neck.

With each thrust of his cock, it becomes even more difficult to breathe; my lungs become increasingly starved of air. His leather cuts into my skin. The buckle presses against my windpipe. His thick cock obstructs my airway.

Tears flow from my eyes. My cunt is uncomfortably wet.

The belt tightens. The lack of air makes me lightheaded. Every so often, he pulls his cock from my mouth, allowing me a few seconds to gasp and fill my lungs before continuing the onslaught.

My jaw aches. My throat is raw. Hot tears sting my eyes. I desperately want to finger my cunt to give me some relief, but my hands are bound tightly behind my back.

Master C fucks my mouth, He fucks my throat. He is relentless, my mouth is simply a hole for His cock; my body, an object for Master C to use and enjoy.

Suddenly He is gone.  As I gasp, pulling air into my oxygen starved lungs, Master C erupts over me. His cum splashes over my face.

Have I pleased Him? I await my sentence.

“Well done, little slut, you did very well,” Master C says as He helps me to sit up and unties the bindings from my wrists. “For that, I’m only going to give you two lashes… Per cheek.”

I remove his belt from around my neck  and, with downcast eyes, I offer it to Him.

“Thank you, Sir,” I say in a hoarse whisper as I turn around and, with a shudder of anticipation, assume the required position…

#MasturbationMonday The Oral Sex Project

On display


It’s a nerve wracking experience, even for those of us who have a reasonably positive body image, letting someone see you naked for the first time. It doesn’t matter how many partners you’ve had, or how good you feel about yourself, the first time you expose yourself to another person, your latent insecurities come bubbling to the surface.

Will they really like what they see? Will they be repulsed by the various marks, scars and blemishes that a lifetime of simply living have inflicted on our skin?  Those bits of us that we personally despise for their imperfections: our knees, our legs, our bums, our tummies, our boobs, our necks, our bingo-wings all get magnified out of proportion when first exposed to a new partner’s gaze.

But the first time, the very first time, the time when another person’s eyes gaze on our naked bodies for the very first time is something, I suspect, we will never forget.

For me, the experience is more vividly remembered than my first blow-job and losing my virginity combined.

The boy in question had recently turned 16; I was still 15. I was a gawky teenager, my body still somewhere between that of a girl and a woman; a mixture of sharp angles and curves. I had spots, I had freckles, my boobs looked like they were at least one size too big for the rest of me, as if my body hadn’t yet caught up. I also had (and still do for that matter) ginger pubes.

There was a naïve nervousness combined with anticipation. Sure, he’d seen me in my underwear before, so he knew in general terms what my body looked like. He’d seen and played with my boobs before, so I knew that he liked them. Getting naked with him, however, was totally different.

Having him slowly remove my outer layers was intensely arousing. I was almost oblivious to the fact that I was doing the same to him. Having my bra removed and standing there in just my knickers sent shivers through me.

He took the next step, discarding his boxer shorts, to stand naked before me. I marvelled at his body. I loved how his cock, hard and proud, stuck out from his body. I’d seen his cock before, of course; I’d sucked his cock before. Now however, with his full body on display before me for the first time, his cock looked bigger, harder and more enticing than ever.

He sat on the edge of my bed, and I knelt on the floor between his legs. I took his cock in my mouth and sucked him hungrily. As I sucked him, my fingers explored every inch of him that the could reach. When he came, I swear it was the biggest load of cum I’d ever had to swallow.

I lay down on my bed and felt his eyes on me. I knew what was coming next. All that remained between me and him was a very small and very wet pair of knickers.

I closed my eyes as I let him remove me. I could feel his eyes on me, devouring my nakedness. In that instant I learned the difference between being unclothed and being naked. I’d been unclothed before, but for the first time, there in my bedroom, there with him, I was naked.

Naked… What a wonderful word. I was exposed. I felt vulnerable. There was nowhere I could hide. I was naked.

He explored my body with his fingers. He explored my body with his lips and tongue. He went down on me, and the orgasms he gave me seemed more powerful, more intense, than any he had ever given me before, and all because I was naked.

Afterwards, we lay in each other’s arms; holding each other, exploring each other with our fingers, feeling the warm of each other’s bodies.

I’ve displayed my body to many partners since then, and the first time I do so, still gives me goosebumps. That very first time however was special; nothing will ever feel like that again.

#MasturbationMonday

Hunger


Sometimes I have a certain hunger, a hunger for Master C’s cock in my mouth.

I want to use my lips to make Him hard.

I want to feel my lips slide along His length.

I want to feel the head of His cock lodge in the back of my throat.

I want to hears His moans and sighs as I drive Him closer.

I want to feel his cock twitch as His climax approaches.

I want to feel His cock erupt, filling my mouth with His cum.

I want to savour the rich flavour of His cum on my tongue before swallowing it down.

I want to sit back, lick my lips and await His approval.

I want to hear him say “Good little slut” as his breathing slowly returns to normal.

#MasturbationMonday The Oral Sex Project

Dark alleys


Sex in dark alleyways has always been a particular forte of mine. It began in my casual days and it’s something that I still do quite regularly, be that with Master C, or some random guy who has caught my eye on a night out.

I’m no stranger to outdoor sex, but outdoor sex of the back alley variety usually involves alcohol. Not that I’m particularly inhibited in my sexual wantoness by any means, but there’s nothing like a few drinks to make you feel a wee bit more daring. It also helps that the town I live in has lots of dark lanes, alleyways, closes, nooks and crannies that are just idea for a bit of late night, can’t wait to get home fuckery.

Why do I do it? Well, there’s the thrill factor; there is always a risk of being caught in the act. This has happened on occasion, and on at least two of those, it has been by other couples presumably looking for somewhere to do exactly the same thing. There’s also the thought that even if no one walks by, you could still be being watched. Often these dark closes are down behind tenement blocks and anyone could, potentially, look out their window and watch you giving a drunken blow-job or having an alcohol fuelled quickie.

Mostly though, it’s simply because, when I’m at a certain level of drunkenness, I get uncontrollably randy. I don’t want to wait until I get home to have sex, I want fucked and I want fucked pretty much there and then. Generally, I’ve found guys are quite willing to oblige, despite the obvious risks, and Master C is no exception. If you’ve read my cumslut post, then you will know that, not only does He enjoy it as much as me, but sometimes He likes to crank the stakes up to an entirely higher level.

Really, for me, it’s a combination of things: the excitement, the riskiness, the sop to my exhibitionist streak, the arousal, the need for urgent sexual fulfilment, and the enjoyment of a bloody good fuck. Mostly though, it’s because I’m a filthy little slut who is always ready for cock, especially if it’s Master C’s cock, wherever I am.

Kink of the Week

The dutiful slut


Sometimes it just has to be done. He comes home. He’s tired. He’s had a hard day at work. He needs His cock sucked.

As Master C‘s dutiful slut, I know how to attend to His needs; I know what I need to do.

I sit Him down, I undo His trousers, I take His cock between my lips and pleasure Him with my mouth.

Slowly, surely, I use my mouth to ease away the strains and stresses of Master C‘s day. With my mouth, I serve Him and worship Him; welcoming Him home.

He rests a hand on the back of my head. His fingers twist in my hair as He begins to push His cock deeper into my mouth.

A sigh escapes and the tension slowly builds as Master C begins to fuck my face with short, stabbing thrusts. I can feel His cock strain. I can taste His delicious pre-cum.

His breathing deepens. His fingers tighten their grip in my hair, pulling me on to Him.

Master C tells me that I am His “good girl”. He tells me that I have “earned my reward”.

My fingers stroke His shaft as I suck harder on the swollen head of His lovely, lovely cock.

I know Master C is getting close. I can feel the tension in His thighs. I know that soon I will taste His rich cum on my tongue.

Soon… But not yet…

Master C holds back; denying Himself the pleasure of release so that He can savour the attentions of my mouth for as long as possible.

“Is my good girl ready?” He asks. I murmur my assent from around His cock.

His hips surge. His cock twitches. I can feel the head swell in my mouth.

A moment…

That briefest of pauses…

His cum explodes into my mouth, flooding over my tongue.

I swallow the initial surge then milk the remainder from Master C‘s cock. I let it pool on my tongue, savouring the rich taste of Him before swallowing this too.

His cock slips from between my lips. I sit back on my heels and stare up at Him. “Did I do well?” I ask.

“Yes, little one, you did very well.”

Content that I have served Him, I stand up and make my way to the kitchen to make him His coffee.

#MasturbationMonday The Oral Sex Project

Shocks and surprises


The first time I encountered a blow-job face to face, as it were, was an eye-opener to say the least. I’d heard of such things of course but, frankly, to my then 14 year old mind, it seemed positively disgusting and I was certain that nobody I knew would ever do anything like that. I was, of course, wrong; totally wrong; and the manner in which I discovered how wrong I was made it even more shocking.

I hadn’t meant to pry. In fact, I hadn’t even been aware that my sister was in the house, let alone that she had company. My honest and simple intention had been to retrieve a CD that she had ‘borrowed’ from me a couple of weeks earlier and which I now wanted back.

In their defence, they were being very quiet. Apparently they had thought that so long as they didn’t make any noise, then I’d never notice them over the noise of the music I was playing. Well, they were almost right, I guess…

I didn’t actually go into her room. They had kept the door open just a little in the hope that they might hear any approaching interruption (i.e. me, or perhaps mum coming home). However, it seems that their precautions were totally inadequate.

My sister, you see, had a big, full length mirror on her bedroom wall quite close to the door. All I did was push the door open just the tiniest bit more than it already was and I was confronted with the image of my sister, sans top, sliding her lips up and down her then boyfriend’s cock.

Now, if this were some porn story, I’d now regale you with how I stood there transfixed, touching myself and getting all turned on until I betrayed my presence with an orgasmic moan. The truth is, however, that as soon as I recovered from the shock, I beat a hasty, albeit quiet, exit; my CD totally forgotten.

Thinking about it afterwards, I still couldn’t believe that I’d seen my goody-goody older (by just under 3 years) sister do something that to me, still, seemed disgusting.

At the first opportunity, I discussed it with one of my closest girlfriends. I had expected her reaction to by somewhat akin to mine (although with hindsight, I don’t know why I thought that); so I was completely shocked, again, when she just laughed and informed me that “in her experience” it drove guys wild and that she loved it when they couldn’t control themselves any more. The only downside, apparently, was that cum made a mess of your clothes if you weren’t ‘careful’. That was her euphemism for ‘taking it all in your mouth’. She even went so far as to suggest I should try it to give my then boyfriend a treat.

I had been seeing my boyfriend for about 6 months. I’d had other ‘boyfriends’ before him but he was the first one with whom I had ever got past the kissing stage. Not that we’d gone much further. I had got to the stage where I was comfortable with him putting his hand up my top to play with my boobs (and I’ll admit that got me pretty wet) and I’d very recently moved from rubbing his cock through his jeans to actually slipping my hand down inside and actually feeling it in the flesh (although I hadn’t actually seen it at this point…). I had, however, never considered putting his cock in my mouth. Now though, having seen my sister do just that to her boyfriend, and had my best friend just tell me how much she enjoyed sucking cocks (note the plural – and I know for a fact she wasn’t exaggerating), I somewhat unexpectedly found myself warming to the idea.

It didn’t happen immediately. It was another two weeks before I actually plucked up the courage. It was his 15th birthday and I had my fingers around his cock while giving him a very intense birthday snog when I asked him if he’d like an ‘extra special present’.

I’d never seen an erect cock before. Well, not up close and personal (the reflection of the bit of my sister’s boyfriend’s cock that wasn’t in her mouth doesn’t count). To my untrained eye it seemed huge (actually, as it turned out, he was a little bigger than average) and I was a little intimidated by it and, to be completely honest, I didn’t have a clue what exactly I was supposed to do but, after giving it a few mote strokes, I closed my eyes, opened my mouth, and took the head between my lips.

That was pretty much all it took. I just about had time to get used to the idea of his cock being in my mouth when I was choking and spluttering, trying to deal with my first mouthful of cum. And, my friend had been right, it did make a mess of my blouse (she had neglected to make any mention of the actual taste!). I was, however deeply turned-on at the thought that I had caused this reaction, that my mouth had caused him to lose control and shoot his load into it. I just wish I’d had a little longer to savour the experience and that he’d given me at least some warning of his impending eruption.

Needless to say, the blow-job became a regular part of our activities after that and, as well as me getting better at it, and him learning to enjoy it for longer, we quickly moved on to him going down on me too (although it would be another 3 or 4 months before I let him shag me for the first time) All in all, I actually had a lot to be grateful to my big sister for, not that she knew it.

Incidentally, I mentioned my ‘interruption’ to her not that long ago, hence why I know the details of their attempt to avoid discovery, and she confirmed that they had been completely oblivious to the fact. Not only that, but if I’d been a few minutes later, she’d have been riding his cock and not sucking it. I don’t know if that would have shocked the 14 year old me even more…