1. Portals of Mankind


    Date: 9/29/2015, Categories: Essay, Blowjob, Consensual Sex, Male/Female, Oral Sex, Author: liampeters, Rating: 42.9, Source: sexstories.com

    the two of you melted all over one another…. parting slowly after the music ended oblivious to the points of your breasts or the bulge in his crotch. Those feelings of pure sexual desire are some of the best memories of my life. Why not recapture them once-in-a-while. So now, we have wined and dined, listened to the words of the beloved bard or his erstwhile imitators or basked in the sweet or cacophonous tones of musicians, even danced a while close together. Thus ends the evening out then begins the night in. The ride home is filled with the electricity of our sexual tension, the nervous laugh, the quickened breath, the pounding in our chests, the changes between both our legs. The key in the door, it opens then closes sealing out the gaze of others. I pause, teetering on the brink. The animal in me wants to take her right there in the hall "she'll think I don't respect her” and she pauses too. Her impulse is to drive her tongue deep into my mouth "he'll think I'm a slut". So we move tentatively, cautiously to the couch, and eventually everything happens. But we maintain the decorum for just a little longer. I love to kiss and so does she; we literally take each other’s breath away. The kisses and cuddling give way to the slow and deliberate caress and fondling of two astute lovers. Her flesh is discretely exposed. Her skin glows, goose bumps appear, her breasts tighten, both nipple harden outward pulling the skin at its base into wrinkles. My lips and tongue strike ...
    southward down her neck in search of the milky swells and pink buttons no eye could miss, paying homage to her along the way. I circle the heaving mounds with my tongue and lips, drawing down my bead on the dark pink nubs. I suckle softly, baby-like, increasing my suction and force until I am a ravenous man, devouring this source of sustenance. Got Milk? This ravenous man now seeks out other delectables. Now the real reason for garter belts and stockings come to light. With little effort, I can now lay open the altar to Aphrodite and prepare its sacrifice to the Satyr. Then comes the dilemma, or several of them. Am I fresh enough for what comes next? Do I need to go before? Isn't the couch too uncomfortable? Maybe she doesn't give in to it right away and my zipper slides down and her hand removes the swollen implement. She looks at it thinking, "It's bigger tonight for some reason.” But it's really no bigger, just big… thick and long. Some of her fingers encircle its more than 5 inches in circumference. She strokes downward, gliding the last remnants of the uncut foreskin from the bulbous head. It looks like one of those new Army helmets, glistening with slippery fluid. As she nears the end of its 8-inch length, the stretched skin pulls the head flatter, a red bumbershoot mottled with purple. She pushes down and squeezes, the urge of release rears momentarily in my sack and then subsides. Will she? I ask without muttering a word, as she slides to her knees. The answer is quick. My ...
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