Untamed Passion

We set on a time that Saturday night, just around dusk. She sounded a little nervous too, a bit to my relief.

I think I stroked my penis for half an hour before the assigned time. I wanted to be good and ready for relief but finally had to put my jeans on and head down to the street with supplies.

So I set up my table. I had several bags of dummy stuff, the one with a roll of toilet paper in the back, so it would be unlikely for anyone to grab it when left unattended. I had my mask on, trying to look earnest (how do you do that if no one can see your face?) and businesslike.

A blue Honda Fit rolled up, the driver tentatively scanning the street. There were two girls, both in masks. The driver, who appeared to be a tall and handsome blonde, spotted my table, parked in front of the salon. I held my breath.

The passenger got out. She was short, a little chubbier than is my preference, and had fuzzy shoulder-length hair and jeans. I couldn’t gauge her facial features very well. She came up to the table, both of us eyeing each other.

“Lonely gal?” I asked. She nodded.

“Dave. Glad you came.” She looked around, obviously confused.

“Business district in the back here,” I motioned. “You’re plenty safe,” I added.

“Lonely Gal” shot a look to her companion who waved back.

I led her down the narrow path. Hot damn. Was this going to work? I backed into the shrubbery clearing and unbuttoned my jeans.

And experienced the first difficulty.

I had been plenty hard in my apartment, but with the setting up and I suppose the anxiety of everything in the meantime, the penis had gone quite limp.

I pulled it out, wishing it was even slightly erect, but it wasn’t.

I waited for the “Lonely gal’s” reaction. Still, l with her mask on, she looked at it, then at e.

“I’d feel better if you took your mask off?” she asked, anxious-like. “I just would like to see who you are a bit more.? You said you’re safe?”

I nodded and removed the mask. I held my breath again. Would this be the deal-breaker?

She looked a little relieved, then gazed at my floppy-looking penis. “Looks just about like Arthur’s,” she said, and I felt some relief.

“Do you want me to make it hard for you?” I asked. She shook her head.

“No, that’s alright. I always liked getting Arthur stiff, it was usually part of the fun.”

I put my hands on my hips, and she knelt in front of me, still keeping her mask on, however.

Okay, so anytime a new partner approaches your most intimate bits it is a bit awkward. In the past, this would happen in fairly predictable situations, when everyone was already aroused a bit. The number of girls who had had their hands on my cock was not great, single digits, and the subset of those who had licked me was even smaller in number.

This was bizarre if you have to know the truth.

She played her fingers along my shaft, held my soft cock-head in her fingertips, and rolled my balls around. I wish I could tell you I responded, but even after a few minutes not much was happening.

I was ready to kick myself up and down the street, panic rising in every fiber. First customer! First failure! Jared would be laughing his ass off the rest of the semester. I would never live it down.

And I wouldn’t even get to enjoy what I wanted most out of the whole thing, the whole point of all this effort. Wasted! Down the tubes! The only variable I hadn’t considered, the power of my erection, had abandoned me. And I had been impossibly horny for a month and a half.

“Gal,” I stammered. “I wonder if you would be kind enough” (I said this) “to remove your mask? I would like to see you too.”

She nodded and pulled off her mask. She was cute in a familiar, non-exciting way, but it felt much better to know I was dealing with a real girl.

have wished, however. My penis stubbornly remained limp, perhaps fractionally stiffer than when we began, but nowhere close to where it needed to be.

“Could you” I stammered again, “maybe pull your shirt up a bit?” I know I sounded desperate.

She smiled, bless her heart. She pulled her shirt up, and without even me asking, unclipped her bra. Her breasts were small, pointed, and to my eyes, adorable. Tiny little nipples, pink ends, she didn’t need a bra at all.

But that did the trick.

Her fondling still didn’t work the way I would

Her fondlings had me hard in three minutes. I watched, absolutely intoxicated, as my penis went from soft and rubbery, to full and hard.

Her fingers, running from ball to tip, felt like a million dollars. And she looked pleased.

She looked up at me, kept the gaze, and extended her tongue to my prick-head.

The gates of heaven swung open.

She then closed her eyes and went to work on me.Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

I haven’t inhabited this earth all that long, and am only into sexual maturity (however you figure that) for a half-dozen years, but I have to say that as a male, getting your penis sucked is one of the most supreme events conceivable. I have never, ever, had a bad experience when someone has their lips over my cock, tongue working my prick-head.

Some sucklings are obviously more amazing than others, and it has always been best when my partner was someone who knew me, was familiar with what I liked, and could do, by dint of experience and a certain willingness to please, extraordinary things to the nerve endings attached to my organ and turn me into a whimpering exhausted spent piece of protoplasm after all was over.

This event in front of me, “Lonely gal’s” lips going up and down my shaft, was not in that category, but it was the most purely pleasurable moment of happiness I had had in many, many weeks.

I wish I could tell you it went on for five minutes, but it didn’t. My earlier erection, and excitement, all accumulated, and I felt the familiar pressure in my balls build to crisis levels.

Watching her lips move along my shaft, her tongue doing lovely things to my prick-head, her hair moving while her lips slid up and down my shaft, her pleasure when she left off to admire my spit-slicked erection, shooting a shy smiling glance up to me again, all of this was too good to be true.