The Guy I Would Fuck

Not a day went by without having thoughts of Ben. Anything of him; his smile, his body odor after using the unreachable (for me) pull up bar that he installed at the door frame.

Maybe Lin was right; I could get addicted to him. Or just that, I’m just unusually always horny.

I was just too shy to ask.

One evening I got home a bit later than my regular times, probably, one of those days that I feel like grabbing a guy and let him do me. While twisting the key in the lock, Ben opened the door from inside.

“It wasn’t locked,” he said, and went back towards the kitchen. His face was unhappy.

I followed him. “Something happened at work?”

“Something’s happening with you,” he said, in an intimidating tone. “Why the fuck do you write everything on Twitter?”

Oh poo, I thought. He found out.

“Why the fuck did you stalk me on Twitter then?” I asked back. He didn’t have a Facebook account, and of course, not on Twitter too.

He did a Google search and it ended up on my Twitter. I’d take that as stalking, Googling my name when he had nothing to do.

“The tweets are public and you’re letting strangers reading our stuff,” he started complaining.

“What is wrong with that?” Honestly, I did it out of fun, just not to forget the little details we shared together. “Don’t you find it interesting to read too?”

“It’s supposed to be private,” he said. “Embarrassing.”

“Oh don’t be such a baby,” I said. “Nobody knows you, I don’t post your pictures there.”

“Just remove them.”

“Hell no! I do what I want, and if you don’t like it, don’t read.”

With that, I turned around to walk away from there. Ben grabbed me by the hand and pulled me back into the kitchen.

There he was, almost twisting my arms he held me close and started kissing me before I could say a word. While kicking the door shut, he pressed my body against the wall and continued kissing.

The deep and passionate kiss that left me breathless.

He tossed me on the round dining table and aggressively unbuttoned my jeans. “You know people can hear us from here, right?” I said.

“You want to be heard,” He said, taking off his shirt. “Let them hear.”

Without my pants on, I could feel the chill, cold draft coming in through the kitchen window and the opening on the wall which was like a large pipe, connecting to our basements. Our voices would echo until down there.

Ben began caressing my tummy with his lips, while holding my thighs with his arms and his fingers dragging along my sensitive skin. I couldn’t help but moan a little, wanting him to do more, but at the same time trying to control myself.

Then, he moved much lower, with his knees on the floor, and my legs resting on his shoulders. Slowly, he slid my panties to the side and said, “You look so sweet.”

I closed my eyes as he removed my panties and got back to work. He gave a quick kiss on my clitoris, making my body jolt in excitement. After seeing that reaction coming from me, he began exploring more.

His warm and wet tongue tasting my feminine parts. Sometimes, he gave out a loud sigh of satisfaction, after all the juices he sucked out from me.

He nibbled my clitoris, ever once in a while, while biting it softly, making me shriek. Didn’t hurt, but that made my juices flow out even more.

“Oh, c’mon, let’s fuck,” he said, impatient.

“Wait!” as I recalled the pain we experienced the other day. “Lubricant, I bought it, it’s inside my room.”

Ben didn’t want to move from there. He was so turned on that he wasn’t even listening when I asked about protection.

I didn’t mind. I liked it raw.

He pulled me closer to him at the edge of the table. I gasped as he buried himself inside of me. He went in much easier this time, as I tried to accommodate to his size.

I screamed as he went deeper. Much deeper than before, and that must have been my limit. There was an unfamiliar sense of discomfort inside, around my waist and my back.

“Did you feel that?” I asked.

“Feel what?” he asked back.

Maybe it was just me. That sensation was new to me, and I didn’t like it. I was worried that I might get hurt later on.

Though the moment he pulled out and pushed himself back in, I stopped thinking. I was screaming with pleasure as he was panting and breathing harder. He went faster and faster until the table was making creaking noises.

With each thrust, my body trembled, and resisted a little as he was reaching too deep. Anyone could have heard the love-making sounds we made in that kitchen. My thighs felt wet from our sweat and my fluids.

“Coming,” he gasped suddenly and pulled himself out to ejaculate on my body, around my neck, with a bit went on my lips. Immediately he seemed fulfilled, at the same time exhausted from our little rendezvous.

“Fuck you, Ben..”

“Oh yes, do fuck me.”

— — — —

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