Red

“Superlike. That’s flattering.”

We bantered back and fourth. You were whip smart and as witty as they come. I asked if you’d like to meet for a beer and you graciously suggested a pub in my neighbourhood.

We both arrived early, you more so than myself. Any confidence I’d had upon leaving the hotel diminished almost instantly upon seeing you. You were significantly more handsome than your pictures let on. You were tall with dark features, notably intelligent eyes, and an absolutely beautiful body. The cut of your shoulders tapered away to your waist, your cheekbones catching the light. I was in over my head.

Perhaps this is just what Irishmen looked like.

We made small talk. I could feel myself failing to retain anything you said, my nerves getting the best of me. You excused yourself briefly and as soon as you were out of earshot I was accosted by the occupants of the table next.

“How’s your date going?” A bedazzled blonde piped, leaning within inches of my face. I could smell booze and cigarettes.

“Oh god, is it that obvious?”

“Well, yeah. He was here first. You two obviously don’t know each other.”

“I’m nervous. He’s very handsome. More handsome than I was expecting.”

The group less one tottered outside, a welter of giggles and slang.

“How’d you guys meet?”

“Um, he superliked me on tinder.”

“Superliked?!? You only get one of those a day I think. You must be pretty special.”

“Please, please be honest. Am I cute? Like are he and I grossly mismatched?”

“Cute?! You’re gorgeous! You’re a fine pair.”

We went on, exchanging excited quips about ourselves. We had started talking about how to make mayonnaise by the time you’d returned.

We bantered a few minutes more. You patiently answered my questions as they rambled wildly out of me, some of them bursting forth before you’d had a chance to answer its precursor. Everything you said fascinated me. Your voice was soft and lilting, your face serene. I didn’t want it to end.

“So, should we go for a walk?”

We walked 9 kilometres in the October night air. Up and down O’Connell street, you told me stories about schooling and swan attacks and your affinity for hunting vicariously. We decided to walk towards the bus I’d need to catch to get home. We stood, teeth chattering, and you told me about the great snow storm of 2017, when the Irish were trapped in their homes and businesses were looted and destroyed. I giggled wildly as you described the three inches of snow that brought the country to its knees.

The 16 pulled up and I said my goodbye. It was lovely to meet you. I walked toward the bus and made eye contact with the driver as he closed the doors and pulled away. I was left standing, jaw agape, euros in hand. I turned to you only to see a giant grin cut itself across your face.

“So, uh, I guess I’ll wait for the next bus.”

“Well, you’re welcome to join me at mine. Fair warning though, I might come on to you.”

We caught a cab. We got ourselves water. You gave me a brief tour of your lovely abode. You apologized for a mess I wasn’t capable of noticing. We tucked in and you were gracious enough to offer that we quell our nerves by pretending to watch a show about grizzly bear hunting. I was happy to oblige.

I could feel my hands prickle as I turned my face toward yours. Your beard was noticeably soft as your lips found mine. You worked delicately but with precision, your fingertips grazing my nipples until they tingled. The smell of your skin lit my senses and I felt anticipation ripple through me. You smelled so fucking good.

I grappled with your belt, eager to take your cock in my hands. You slid my clothes off while I stroked you, your hands fingering and circling and teasing. I felt my skin flush as you nestled your face into my neck and forced your cock into me. It was thick with a deliciously pronounced ridge along the head. I felt you move into me, forcing my own juices out.

You fucked me like a gentleman, with a reverence I wasn’t accustomed to. You watched me with intent and when the first orgasm rattled through me you held a steady gaze. Over and over you pumped your cock into me, sliding the ridge of it back and forth over my g spot. I loved watching your body as you sat upright, feeding your cock into me, filling my pussy and coaxing orgasms out of me.

“Can I ride you?”

I loved being on top of you, my hair wild and ragged, your cock buried balls deep and coated in cum. I rocked into you, grinding my clit against you, feeling you fill me to brimming, beads of sweat rolling down my chest. I loved alternating between leaning back, having you as deep as possible, and folding forward, sliding my pussy precariously over only the tip of your dick. I felt you trace your hands along my thighs as I came again.

“Play with my ass.”

I was only too happy to follow orders. I climbed off of your cock and pulled it into my mouth. I started working the shaft, taking it as deep as my tipsy throat would allow. You were gracious enough to hand me lube. I slid my finger into you, your asshole feigning resistance before letting me in. I tasted your precum coat the inside of my mouth.

I rolled my tongue against your head. I heard you as your cool and steady facade began to crack. Your breath came is rasps, your hands on the back of my head, my finger to the first knuckle. I felt my own cum, warm and slick between my legs. My clit throbbed as I listened to you breathe, short and shallow, and I felt your body react to mine.

I felt your ass start to spasm around my finger as you pumped cum deep into the back of my throat. I swallowed as fast as I could while it leaked past my lips and rolled towards my hand. Your cock pulsed endlessly, my throat struggling under the circumstances, and I blinked tears out of my eyes.

Yours was the sweetest cum I’d ever tasted.