Thursday, March 10, 2005

I invited him home.

I was over the moon for a couple of days after the date. The realisation only came to me after that, kicked in after my hormones had settled and my mind had managed to regain its balance. It unfolded before me like a horrible nightmare.

Being alone with him would inevitably meant that the cherry's heading the exit door. Was I ready to give it up? Was he the right man? Okay, so if it were going to happen, how could I ask him to wear a condom, minus the embarrassment? What if he refused and he had some big STD brewing in his body? What if my parents walked in on us? What if the neighbours reported a stranger entering my house to my parents? What if he dumped me after the sex? Really, there were so many questions that I was on the verge of calling it off. And yet, I chickened out, because the last thing I wanted to do was to piss him off. I swallowed my fear and hoped for the best, consoling myself that everything's going to be okay. Nowadays, when I recall this, I'm amazed at how incredibly naive I was. All I needed to do was to give an otherwise negative thing a rather politically correct noun and I was set to go.

Sigh...a child's mind that was essentially simple.

The day finally arrived after what seemed like an eternity. I had successfully suppressed my fears and was excitingly prepping up the living room for him. I vaccummed and mopped the marble floor so that when he walked in, it would feel cool beneath his feet. I hid all the tacky looking figurines that my Mother loved, just in case he thought they were mine. I switched on the air-conditioner, a luxury that my Father seldom allowed us to use unless there were guests. I made two glasses of honey lemonades.

At around 3pm, I saw his car zooming pass my gates. I panicked, thinking he had missed the house. Frantically, I called him to inform about his mistake but he calmly told me that he had deliberately parked the car away from my house. I thought it was a bright idea. Then I saw him grinning, at the gates with his handset to his ear. Without wasting anymore time, I let him in.

We hugged each other very tightly. He was wearing a dark blue shirt and black trousers, I knew he had just snuck out from work to see me. I could still smell his cologne - Farenheit, he said. Until today, it is still one of my favourite scents, sweet but no less manly.

He led me to the sofa and sat me down. Before I could even invite him to take a sip of my home-made honey lemonade, he had pulled my face to his and kissed me like a hungry dog. All I remembered was a wet tongue all over my face and a tinge of disgust. There went my first kiss, how utterly boring. He also sucked almost every part of my neck. I was in quite a state of shock, sitting there like a blowup doll.

Perhaps realising my lack of action, he stopped. He grabbed my shoulders firmly and made me sat straight facing him. Then he brushed my fringe to the side of my face. He put a finger to his lips indicating to me to be quiet. I obeyed and sat still, silent. After scrutinising me for a good 5 minutes, he stood up and began to undress me. Part of my mind was protesting but my whole body was beginning to tingle. My palms and my feet felt like they were just recovering from a long period of numbness. When I was fully naked, he cupped my breasts, but not completely, only touching them with the tips of his fingers. He would let go and cupped them the same way over and over again. Occasionally, I could feel my hard nipples touching his palms.

He stopped and instructed me to spread my legs; proceeded to go down on me. It felt really weird, but unbelievably good. However, when he thrusted his tongue in my pussy, I felt a little pain, but they were too minuscule to be complained about. I was shivering so badly (it was either the pleasure or the blast of the air-con) that I kept closing my thighs together, sandwiching his head in the process. When I did that, he would forcibly spread my legs again and instructed me not to do it but I honestly couldn't help it. He must have gotten tired from me trying to squash his head that he stopped.

Then he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. It was the first real life cock that I'd ever seen and I was astounded - couldn't stop giggling. It was uncircumcised and it was glistening at the tip. He asked me whether I wanted to taste his cock. I was like, what? He told me that it would be the best thing I have ever tasted and that I would be addicted to it. Of course, I didn't believe him, but I didn't want to piss him off. So, I asked him to teach me how to do it. He gave me a rundown of what to do, namely to have as much of the cock in my mouth and to tuck my teeth in - I could nibble it, very lightly at times but I should never gnaw it.

So I knelt beside him and started to blow him. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever done. I could taste his pre-cum, which was bitterish and foreign to my mouth. I wanted to puke. And he was shoving his cock up my throat so hard, over and over again. My eyes began to tear. Whenever I wanted to stop, he would grab my hair and just pushed my head down. It went on for a while until he came and my jaw was so sore I thought it had dislocated. I got up and he asked me why for and I told him I wanted to spit his cum out, but he did not allow me. He said I ought to swallow it, cause it was tasty. Again, not wanting to piss him off, I swallowed. It was unbelievably foul. It's good thing that I had much better (and tastier) lovers after him, otherwise I would have been put off from sucking cocks for life. Nowadays, I love sucking my bf off and swallowing his cum - best part of making love.

Moments after that, he got dressed and left. Just like that. He didn't even touch my honey lemonade. I actually spent a fortune on some high-grade honey for him, that bastard. Mom came home about an hour after that and enquired about that extra glass of drink. For a second I panicked, but managed to came up with some convincing excuse. She wouldn't have suspected it anyway; her 15 year old girl's rendezvous with a 32 year old man? Please.

After the episode, he didn't call me anymore. I called him a few times and finally got the message. I cried non-stop for a couple of days over the "break-up". On the other hand, in some twisted way, I felt like a grown-up, superior to my peers. Suddenly, I began to notice men much older than me. As though the experience had christened my state of mind.

Bullshit.
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