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The Touch

A sexy tale of a woman coming to terms with her natural carnal desires.

By Cixtian TrybePublished 7 years ago 19 min read
2

I touched him. I have no idea what had come over me, but for some inexplicable reason, my hand moved from my lap and touched his leg. It was a gentle, caressing thing. It was much more forward than I would ever be under normal circumstances, to be sure. I wasn't ever that forward, physical, or direct. Never comfortable with being touchy. But then, there was something about him. Something that made these delicious and awkward moments sexy.

Let me describe him.

First, you should know he’s a black man, nearing 6 feet tall. He's handsome, with high cheek bones, and deep set eyes, sporting a pencil thin mustache and goatee. Deep soulful brown eyes that sang a song just in the way they held on to you. And his long, jet black hair, he kept in a mop of long black braids that touched his belt.

His body wasn’t anything special. Stout, strong, but a little bit on the pudgy side… a real guy's body, and even that he wore with no small amount of sex appeal. He seemed to ooze sex and attraction with everything he did. The way he walked and talked. That simple little smile he put on after saying something clever, above everything else, is what got me.

I sat there with my hand on his leg, and all of the sudden I became aware of our near intimate proximity. The theater was one of those fancy new places. This one equipped with the reclining seats, and the cup holders built into the arm rest. He sat leaning all the way back in the seat looking up at the screen. When my hand touched his leg, he looked at me and smiled, but I only noticed out the corner of my eye. I smiled too.

I’m such a coward when it comes to boys.

Then he did something that surprised and shocked me. With a gentle hand he took mine by the wrist, and lifted it off his leg. My heart began to thunder as the horror of the moment settled in. I thought for a moment that I had taken things too far, that he was not interested in me.

He lifted the arm rest and set it back on his lap and placed a gentle touch on my face. I was in awe!! I was sure I felt the way every girl wants to feel. Sure that it was the touch every woman wants to feel… even on the first date. Gentle, caring, soft.

I melted.

I sat and after a time leaned against him, basking in his cologne, and the feel of him pressed against me. Even now, years later, I can remember thinking about how excited he got me. I felt my nipples harden, and I was certain that my panties were –quite- wet by then. I was more than a little embarrassed at the time. I was a bit of a prude but, to be honest, my excitement and fervor grow from that too.

This was a dangerous boy. No super model, but something about him told me that he rarely had trouble keeping female company. His attitude, his well timed demeanor. I imagined a typical date with him… even the first date... ended in sex. I imagined the kind of sex it might have been, and that added to my build as well. The waters were near overflowing. It's close to the same way now... all these years later.

'Man, I wish I –was- that sort of girl.'

I laugh now, but this was the thought that ran through my mind. Unfortunately, I wasn’t that type of girl. Well, not when we arrived at the show that night anyways.

The movie we watched was gory and violent. Gorgeous men fighting savage battles wearing mere shreds of clothing. Chocked full of eye candy, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the hottie seated right next to me. It’s so funny to me that I did… and still do... find him –so- attractive.

By the time the movie ended, we were nice and cozy in our little area of the theater. As the place cleared, neither he nor I made any effort to move. We sat there, his arm around me, my hand caressing his thigh…

I remember my heart racing then. Oh my gawd, my hand was practically… I mean not even inches. My mind reeled and I looked down and yanked it away. Embarrassment was easy in those days, and my red face could never hide it. I looked up into surprise as meet my gaze with a smile. Surprise, horror, dread... I know I was beet red, but it didn't matter. He leaned down and laid one on me. A short little thing, that became a quick, intent kiss on my lips.

There was no amount of awe or shock that was going to keep me from enjoying that first kiss. And boy can that boy kiss. Our lips met, soft at first. Him brushing his full lips across mine, before planting a soft one right at the corner of my smile. Then he turned back as if to look at me, his eyes cast down at my mouth… my lips parted ever so much before he moved in again. Oh the second touch was with a bit more pressure, but it was immense. It felt like he was touching a part of me that I had never gotten sensation from. There was a spark; energy; a fire between us, and as each kiss followed, that fire grew and grew.

Before long, I found myself pressed against him. My legs draped over his, arms around his neck, his hands encircling me. We two basking in these tender kisses.

I don’t know how long before we broke the kiss. He was hovering inches from me, threatening to rekindle the fires. I sighed. I was relieved that the tension between us and finally taken us somewhere. I was also a little scared of all that this breach could entail. That kiss was so much better than I ever imagined, but as I said... I was a prude back then.

“Oh kay…” I gasped trying to retake some of my composure… "We should probably get going. Theater’s almost empty now…”

He smiled, still hovering, still sitting, watching my lips. Watching –me-!

My God he is so dangerous!

I chuckled after a moment and pushed him back into his chair to give me some time to recover. I lifted my legs off his and rose to my feet. He just sat there with that dangerous smile. I offered him my hand, and with deceptive ease he pulled me down fully on his lap.

I have to say, that these days I'm quite the sexual being, but at the time I had had so little experience. I had quite an appetite and would get excited at the drop of a hat, but I was also a staunchly loyal feminist. I thought, at the time, that that meant I couldn’t run off and bang every swinging dick I ran into. I was not into getting objectified and that, in the early days, it made me standoffish. In my youth, I often found myself aggressively detached. I didn't know the difference between a man being overt and a man being downright rude.

Not surprising that few men ever pursued me long enough for my sexual appetite to surface. So by that point I’d had 2 a grand total of lovers.

Falling onto his lap gave my entire head a spin and gave me time to rethink views on male sexual endowment. I had been mistaken.

Don't get me wrong, Kent and Michel both have really beautiful penises. What I felt through those jeans that night was almost scary! My young mind's fight and flight responses battled with each other at that point.

He had pulled me down and planted a slow barrage of fevered kisses on me. My new position pressed his stiffening member into my leg and I was at once ready to get up and get off.

Eventually the fight response took the victory. I sat and kissed him back with a new found fervor. I noticed then that I did something that I rarely do from a kiss. I moaned…

I knew things were getting –way- too intense. As hot as this was, feeling this man's throbbing cock against my hip was a bit much. I pried myself away from him, stood, pulled at his hand more incessantly this time. With a sigh of mock sadness he rose and wrapped his arms around me again before we headed toward the door.

“Well…” I said, walking to my car. (We had left his in the parking lot of the small restaurant we had met in. “What shall we do now?”

“Umm…” He said looking into the night sky as we walked hand in hand. “Do youuu…. Wanna go get some drinks?”

I looked at him and furrowed my brow.

“You mean, at a bar or something?” I said. I’m not much of a bar person, especially not on a first date. Too much distraction, and I often find alcohol to be the worst 3rd wheel. But then again disregarding the bar cut further prospects of the evening short. It was already 12:30 am, and most of the dates I had been on till then had ended shortly after the movie. “I mean… I’m just not really much of a bar person…”

“So then…” He said squeezing my hand. “Let’s go get some alcohol, and go somewhere, and… talk or play a game or… ya know anything?”

I stared at him for a long while, and then nodded.

“Ok…” I said being the ever so sensible one. “But let’s go to one of our places, and hang out… last thing we need is a ticket for open intoxicant...”

“OH!!!” he said with a loud laugh. “So that’s how it’s done huh? Kind of slip out a ‘let’s-go-back-to-my-place’ with out actually saying it."

He smiled that wicked charm at me.

"Very slick…" He said and kissed me on the head... like a prince to a lady fair. "I like it.”

“Yeah…” I laughed back the cooing little girl and steeled myself with wit. “Well don’t get your hopes up, lover boy… this is just the first date…”

Yeah right…

An hour later we were on my living room floor, backs to the couch, some silly game splayed out before us. We had already finished a bottle of white wine. Laughing and joking, and no small amount of making out, had carried us this far. I had retrieved and cracked open one of the two bottles we had bought at the store and filled our glasses.

We had done a lot more kissing between the car and the liquor store, and the store and the car, and the car ride to my place. For a time we stood in my kitchen and made out like high school sweethearts while I was getting my half bottle of white.

In all that time, and with the introduction of alcohol, my mind kept wandering. Each moment it went back to the magnificent bulge in the front of his pants. It had been 6 months since I had even -seen- one, and never had I experienced what I figured his jeans must be concealing.

So finally, as we’re sitting there playing this strange game, something came over me. I threw the hand full of play money and cards down on the board. He arched his brow and looked at me... not afraid, but confused. I pushed myself off the front of the couch, swinging over to kiss him again. This time, though, I closed my eyes and without so much as a conscious thought grabbed the front of his pants, and squeezed that beautiful package!!!

The look on his face was… priceless.

Surprise!!!

His jaw hung open, but a smile played there as well. He breathed, sighed, and in response, I ran my tongue across his lips.

“You are so bad…" I whispered the alcohol soaked words to him. “So dangerous… You’re gonna get me into trouble…”

He laughed and whispered back.

“I think I like your kind of trouble…”

I winked at him and kissed again... Another moan escaped me. DAMNIT. And I grabbed his hardening cock even harder, wishing secretly that there was no cloth between us.

“You have –no- idea…” I said in my most assertive voice…

I sat up then, and reached down and grabbed the front of his jeans. In one fell move I slipped it forcefully down his pants, thankful that the booze hadn't blundered the move for me. He was hot and hard. The throbbing flesh of his member against the flesh of my hand. I swear I could have cum just from that unexpected move. I'm certain my panties were soaked.

I squeezed and stroked him for several minutes, looking at the dancing my hand made his bulge do. It was so enticing, so hot, I wanted more, but didn’t want to go the bad way.

I looked up at him as his hand slipped past the V-neck of my shirt, under my bra, and teased my already stiff nipple. Oh god, I loved that, and he knew it by the way I moaned.

A war was waged inside me… my horny inner self fighting my sensibilities about where to go next. I was horny, and he turned me on –so much- but I didn’t want to be =that= kind of girl. His hand on my nipple reminded me he had gotten further on the first date than I ever would have let anyone. I wasn’t sure if that was an argument for the pros or the cons.

Then he moved again, and I looked at him.

“I…” The words stumbled on my tongue as I thought to not say them. “Want to see all of it,” I said in a harsh, husky voice. He smiled.

“Can I…?” I asked feebly, and he simply lifted his hips in answer.

I worked fast so that I wouldn’t lose the nerve. I slipped the button of his fly with surprising ease… then I forced the zipper apart. I had been thinking to just pull the cock out, but he was rising off the floor already, tugging the denim down his hips.

His cock was thick and long, of a color that was darker than the rest of him. I expected the head to be a deep dark purple, but instead it was a beautiful reddish brown color. He turned to show attention to my now fully exposed breast, I saw the massive balls hanging below…

My exes (Both of them) weren’t –much- smaller, don’t get me wrong, but the difference was –definitely- noticeable. It was heavy and well veined all around, and I immediately leaned up to see how many times my hands could over lap it (3 and a half in case you’re wondering).

In that moment the war inside me was won. I wanted that cock! I wanted it so bad, and it was right there for the taking. Sorry sensibilities I guess now I –am- that kind of girl.

It was then that I let it go and sat up fully. I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it along with my sports bra over my head. As my eyes fell on him again, he was on his knees before me, those beautiful full lips went straight for my hard nipples.

I’m not much for pain, but his teeth brushed and then bit my nipples. This sent thrills of delight up and down my body, adding more fuel to the fire that was me. As his mouth, teeth, and tongue worked their magic, his hands sailed down to my pants…

Oh my god… I thought to myself. You are about to fuck him, on the very first date…

I was in shock at how much I didn’t want him to stop, and how little power I had to make myself stop him. Self-reprimanding cut through now in again, but the sharp sweet pain of teeth on my sensitive nipples pushed it away as quickly as it came.

Then I felt him shift again, and this time he grabbed the waist of the pants. My mind screamed no, but my body arched and let him slip the pants, and the panties beneath, away. I had shaved completely that night. Moisture from the excitement brought a chill through me from there.

“Do… you have… a condom…?” I whispered, giving my sensible nature at least a =-small-= victory in this situation, but he didn’t answer. He rose up and kissed me pushing me down, flat on my back. “I…we need…”

I tried to explain what I thought he should know. Sex and safety, and how we needed to be careful, but as I spoke he kissed me and pushed me back again so I was laying down. I was still talking when his thick lips trailed kisses down my neck, my chest, my tummy, my…

I rose my head and looked down at him. Black guys don’t do what…

When he slipped between my legs, spreading them wide, it was his finger that entered me first. I gasped from the pleasure it caused, and watched in disbelief as his tongue followed it. He was teasing the clit, then slipping down around his probing fingers.

Oh my god, I have had great oral sex before, but this man had a technique and a skill that should be bottled. It took me all of 90 seconds to reach my first orgasm. I threw my head back and breathed so deeply. My head spun, and I knew I had screamed while it was going on…

Now unlike the others I had been with, when I started to cum, he didn’t stop. His tongue kept on working, pushing further and further into the pleasure. In time my hips were bucking up at him, bashing my pelvic bone into his poor face. But he just kept sucking and licking. He was driving me further and further.

Finally I had to crawl away, had to get away from him… had to recover.

When I looked down he was laughing there, watching me. I dragged myself up, and crawled over to him… Kissed him full on the lips, and then stood up.

“Come to my room…” I said and pulled him to his feet. He fell in behind me and then thought twice, turned, and grabbed his coat. Then he grabbed my ass as we crossed the foyer past the kitchen and into my bedroom. That turned me on more than I thought it ever would.

Once there, I turned to him again, pressing my bare body against his, and I kissed him.

“Put on a condom…” I said… “I want to feel that cock inside me…”

I don’t know where those words came from. Usually talking… especially naughty talk... elicits such a humorous response from me. Now, though, I couldn’t keep the dirty from falling from my lips. He smiled and reached into the coat pocket, pulling out a hand full of condoms.

The wild child in me had gotten comfortable, taken over. I snatched the condoms from him and threw them on the bed, holding out for the moment.

I’m was not a head girl. It never did anything for me. Maybe it made me feel degraded, or my young mind attributed it to subservience. But the reverence I felt for this master, massive cock? All bets were off, all bets. I slipped down to my knees and took his wonderful man meat in my hand. Drew my tongue around the head, and tasted the soft musky hint of him, and the slightest taste of my own juices.

Had he been stroking it the entire time he ate me out? I smiled as I sucked him in, and began doing a job the way that I never thought of with a complete stranger.

“Ohh…” he moaned my name for about the first five minutes, and then he began to shake uncontrollably. Little spasms here and there… I knew he was close, so I stopped.

Slipping the condom on was quick work, and once I had it I turned to climb into bed. But as I put a knee on the side to launch myself in, I felt his hands on my hips halting me. The way he entered was unceremonious. It was violent and animalistic, and that sent my pussy into convulsions. He fit so perfectly, and buried himself to the hilt.

“Oh shit….” I moaned out, one leg still on the floor. He wasn’t fucking me fast, but he was going very hard, and –very- deep.

After the initial few strokes, I felt the sensation of my body building from pleasure. I was taking every ounce of pleasure building it behind the dam and I was begging more. He provided.

He fucked me that way for a long moment, and almost involuntarily I lifted my other leg on the bed, put my face flat. I felt him drive deep. It was painful and delightful all at the same and I found myself screaming in my next orgasm.

After a time he must have gotten tired of the position, as suddenly he slipped out of me. With a strong hand he flipped me over. I was still moaning and gasping as his mouth found my clit again. His tongue pleased and played until I was right back in the throws of orgasm. I was bucking and tossing around before him, and that seemed to be the goal. Immediately he was on the bed, pulling my legs up on his shoulders, as again his magnificent cock slide into me.

I was screaming and feeling so good, I couldn’t tell if it was sweat or tears running down my face. He was fan-fucking-tastic! Fucking me the way that I had never been fucked before. Another ten minutes and I felt him throbbing inside me and my god, that felt amazing. As I thought he was about to come he pulled out of me again. I wanted to cry until he fell on my nipples with the fever of a man starved for any womanly affection. I couldn’t understand why he had stopped. But he didn’t seem to notice my confusion.

In short order his thumb replaced his wonderful cock. He continued his dutiful fucking, bringing me to at least one more orgasm.

Then, as I was screaming and clawing the bed, him, the world… he rose above me again, throwing only one leg over his shoulder. He grabbed my hips and slid me to the edge of the bed, where his cock was awaiting. He impaled me and fucked me again, each thrust filled with pleasure and pain.

I don’t know which orgasm I was on when he slipped his arms under my knees, lifted me up, and sat down on the bed with my pussy still impaled on his massive cock. His body was covered in sweat and as I pushed him back, he collapsed with ease, leaving me to ride him.

I tried to go slow at first… trying not to cause myself any pain, but it just wasn’t to be had. In moments I was slamming down on him, and this time it was him who was moaning and bucking.

I felt his cock start to throb. Fearing the end I pushed my pussy down as far as it would go. I wanted to feel every throb, every spasm. I wanted my pussy to know the job it had done on him. As if on cue he threw his head back, and half moaned half yelled out his release…

fiction
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About the Creator

Cixtian Trybe

I write as an escape, and find that the most rewarding of escapes by writing outside my personal fields of experience. Much of my work is written from a woman's perspective, and I plan on exploring other depths.

Why escape only half way?

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