As the sun began to rise, I suddenly remembered why I left the blinds open the night before. Laying next to me was my latest escape. I think his name was Tom, but it could have been Ted. Honestly, I didn’t bother to remember it because I thought this one night stand would end with him leaving in the middle of the night. It wasn’t that I didn’t care for him. I’m not too fond of the early morning awkward goodbye. Something about this man made me want a little breakfast in bed.

As he slept, the outline under the sheet gave me a little hope that he would be dining in as well. His body defined underneath the now ruffled fabric, it was his midsection that caught my attention. Thick, long, and I could even see the large mushroom head of his cock. God, coffee is excellent in the morning, but cock is fantastic.

I traced my finger around his manhood, well, not touching him, but my finger moved as though I was a phantom ghost. Perched on my side, part of the sheet covering my bottom leg, it took all my self-control not to slide over and on while he slept. I was trying so hard not to be rude, but I have never been a sensible woman. Not when it came to men, at least. As much as I wanted him, I allowed this God of a man to sleep in my bed. That right, he would never know he was the first to last all night.

Rolling to my back, my hands refused to obey my mind. I brushed the tips of my fingers over my breasts. My nipples hardened almost immediately. I felt like a naughty teen who was about to get caught touching herself. What if he woke and saw me with my hands in my cookie jar? I’m honestly not shy, but I don’t know my morning lover, so do I care? Not in the slightest.

My fingers traced the pattern of a lover over my flesh, prickles of lust rising in their wake. I imagined his touch on my skin, the way he would take the remnants of the night before the lower he moved. Spreading my legs only a tiny bit, I bit my lip as my fingers teased the source of my heat. Still sleeping, my lover never moved an inch, but I felt as though he was watching me each time I closed my eyes to allow my body to escape into my bed of self-discovery.

As my breathing quickened, my fingers pushed deeper into the puddle of honey between my thighs. My own creation because of the condom wrapper from the night before lay on the nightstand. I might be reckless, but I’m not stupid.

Dipping deeper, I knew that if I was quiet, I could cum without this man even knowing, but wouldn’t it be better if it was him touching me? Too messy to have a second round with a stranger, though I wished for once that I wasn’t so scared of commitment. I was almost panting when the voice to the left of me stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Now, what do we have here this morning? Bad girl playing without me? I really should spank you for that,” he said.

The post One Night Stand With A Stranger appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

BBC cock? Why do some women love it, and others fear it? A lot of it has to do with the taboo aspect of that venture. Growing up for some of us was that “talk” from our fathers. Do not mix the waters. Some know what that means, and others are repulsed by it. Yes, I was one who heard that very saying growing up. I guess my Dad didn’t realize that made me what to find out why.

My first experience with BBC was by accident. Yes, accident. I spent a summer at camp at a counselor, and one of the tasks we had was cleaning the showers. On my first trip into the shower area I heard the water running. Since I was in the girls area, I thought nothing of it. Well, never trust that just because you’re in the girls restroom that you won’t see dick.

BBC was not something you see in a girls bathroom, or is it?

Moaning, yes moaning, was coming from the last stall. At first I thought maybe someone was hurt, but I realized that was a moan of pleasure, not pain. I knew that sound very well. I was a very skilled masturbator and often pleasured myself. Panting and grunts were the bread crumbs that forced me to take a peek. Well, that was the shock of a lifetime, well, at that age it was a big deal.

Standing in the shower was one of the male counselors and the pretty little white woman who ran the whole camp. She was down on her knees with that BBC stuffed down her throat. JESUS CHRIST, he was massive. When he pulled back, that cock had to be at least 11 inches long and as thick as a coke can. She was a married woman, and this was not her God fearing husband.

I wonder now if he knew what was going on, or was this a big dark secret?

It didn’t take long for the man to cum, but when he did, it was shocking. Have you ever saw a fire hydrant uncapped to release the pressure? I can honestly say after seeing that, I have. He shot all over that face and that poor woman looked like she was covered with white paint splatter. I slipped out before they could see me, but I will never forget my first, but not my last, experience with BBC.

Let’s talk soon. I can’t wait to whisper more filthy details.

The post BBC; How to destroy a throat on the first try appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

A blind date? Was she serious? I hate that sort of thing, and I knew when my best friend arranged it, something wild was about to happen. I wanted to share what happened recently. Enjoy.

“He’s hot, and you’ll have fun. I promise. Plus, I know for certain that he hasn’t dated anyone in over a year. Does that make him a born-again virgin?”

Something inside of me churned at the thought of this man. He had to be a one-eyed monster or live in his mother’s basement eating tv dinners. No man in his right mind doesn’t date for a year. I will never forgive my best friend if that’s the case. She’s sent me on a few dates over the years that I wish never happened. More than a few actually. Would 5 be the magic number? The one who sweeps me off my feet? All I really wanted was a good fuck when I told her I would go, but she insisted in a real date first.

Would this be a blind date from hell?

Arranging to meet “William” at a local eatery, I thought meeting in public would be better. Plus, arranging my own transportation meant that if I needed to leave, I could. I dressed in a simple red dress, it’s before memorial, so the darker hues are acceptable. Short, tight, but classy, the silk fabric clung to my body like a second skin. That wasn’t the look I wanted, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the mirror. With the addiction of a pair of strappy red heels, I finished the look off with a smear of my favorite red lipstick. Yes, this is what they imagined when the song “Lady in red” was written.

All I knew about William was that he stood 6 ft 4 and had the body of an athlete. I guess that could mean anything, honestly. Anywhere from a track star to a wrestler, though the latter is preferred. I like my men a little on the larger side. No, not chubby, just built well. I was told he is a brunette. That’s a plus for me. I don’t like blonde men. All of them seem like an overrated Ken doll. Shallow and boring. I’ve never been one to play with dolls. Not even as a small child.

I took one last look at my reflection in the restaurant’s front bay window. My hands move slowly down the front of my dress to smooth out the small imperfections. Most of the time I wouldn’t worry, but first impressions are important. Leaning into the window, my finger moved across my lips slowly. I hope no one is paying attention on the other side. I hadn’t thought of that until I heard a slight tap on the pane. Smiling, I leaned back, shaking off the embarrassing moment. Clutching my purse tighter under my arm, I thanked the older couple who opened the door for me.

“How many?”

The server stood at a little podium, smack, popped, and flipped a huge wad of gum in her mouth. Bubblilicious brand. The familiar scent was overwhelming.  

“I’m meeting someone. His name is William.’”

It was at that moment that I realized that the tap on the window was from my date. Looking up from a drink menu, the blue-eyed beast stood the minute he heard his name. To say I was mortified was an understatement.

“Never mind, I see him.”

The closer I came to the man, the more intimidated I was. I’m not an overly short woman, but even with the 4-inch heels I wore, I felt as though he towered over me. Oh, and his body had a few extra pounds on him. A little hint of warmth between my legs was a dead giveaway to my body’s approval. I had to dig my nails into the palm of my hand to remind me this was a first date.

“The lipstick looks perfect. I approve of that shade of red.”

His words came with laughter. Not a chuckle, but a deep barrel laugh. He stood at the edge of the table, waiting to be the second one seated. Only sitting when his guest was comfortable in her seat.

I was at a loss for words. It would take every bit of my control not to burp out a series of laughs. One major fault of mine is to laugh at all the wrong moments. Who knew that would be the cherry on the top of this night?

“Thank you. You must me William? I’m Gypsy, nice to meet you?”

He nodded, watching me like a lion ready to pounce a helpless lamb. Dinner went by with a few laughs over perfectly chilled wine, and a steak that melted in my mouth. I don’t remember a time when I had this much fun on a date. For the first time I didn’t regret coming out tonight.

I don’t know how I ended up in a hotel room with a stranger. Maybe it was the wine? Yes, it had to be the two bottles of wine that he insisted on us finishing. In the blink of an eye, I found myself laying back on the king-sized bed with my legs spread. This man had his tongue up my cunt so deep he was in the pit of my stomach. I’ve never been involved in a one-night stand, but this might be worth that walk of shame. Juices dripping down the crack of my ass.

“Oh, fuck, you dirty son of a bitch. Eat that pussy.”

My voice bounced from wall to wall, the echo of a dirty whore playing into my ears. At one point I thought I heard banging on the wall, but that could be the bed slamming against the wall. God knows I deserve an applause from that scene. Shoving 3 fingers deep into the honey pot, he pounded with a force that bruised my walls. The sheets ripping from the force of my fingers. I don’t even care that the cheap hotel mattress now has my nail marks forever forged into the fabric. The room is not in my name, so whatever damage done can rest on Williams shoulders. If he wasn’t so good at eating pussy, things like this wouldn’t happen.

“Cum for me, bitch. Squirt that shit all over my face.”

The moment that William asked, I delivered. Pulling his hand from my pussy, the volcano erupted. Fluids poured all over his face, his tongue lashing back and forth like a windshield wiper. I’ve never come with such an intense force that I blacked out, but this time, I lost all consciousness. In less than 10 seconds I received the shock of my life.

“Tell me you want this dick, slut!”

William leaned back on the bed, his hand jerking what had to be a 10-inch cock. The head swollen, the veins protruding, and he was jacking off instead of burying that dick inside my velvet walls.

“Stop jacking off and fuck me, please.”

Sadly, that was all it took. He came. Not the slow rise up the shaft of his cock. This was as though a shaken glass pop bottle suddenly uncapped. An eruption that shot 3 feet in the air and landed smack in the middle of his chest. Hot, white, and creamy, the spill dribbled down and collected in his belly button. A bubble of molten lava seeping from a geyser about to blow. Is it ever safe to laugh during sex? I couldn’t contain my humor and fell back in a heap of giggles. I guess that was a first date to remember.

I will never for get this blind date.

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Have you ever felt a dream so real that you woke up still shaking from the impact? I have.

A simple coffee during a rainstorm, or was it fate? When I plopped into the small cafe around the corner from my house, I never anticipated meeting someone. It was the last thing I wanted. Just getting out of a messy relationship, I was taking a year’s sabbatical from dating. Well, that was the plan, at least.

Secluded in the corner booth of the small shop, I had just wrapped my hands around a steaming cup of coffee when lightning lit up the sky. A laugh was my first response to the extraordinary light show. Los Angeles isn’t known for freak thunderstorms, so this one was special. Maybe the Gods above decided to cleanse the earth of all the filth that littered the streets. Heaven knows this place can use a little clean up right now. I leaned back, my feet stretched out and resting on the seat across from me. There was no better reason to stay inside than to people watch. I have a little addition to that sort of thing. Some write, others scream, but I make up stories in my head about the lives of others when I am feeling my lowest. A gentle exhale escaped as I took my eyes from the window to the man in the opposite corner from me. He was fortyish, jet black hair, and eyes, god, they were the greenest I have ever seen. The kind that vain people photoshopped on themselves to intensify their pictures. Maybe they were contacts, but in my mind, they added a little mystery to his presence.

“More coffee,” she asked.

Startled for a minute, I didn’t even hear the waitress walk up. As I sat my cup down, the fresh java penetrated my nose with a heavenly aroma. “Oh, yes, please. Sorry, I was zoning out with this weather and all,” I said. I smiled at the woman. Her expression never changed. She could care less about what I was doing or the weather. I’m sure she hated her life, and her feet ached from running around this place all day. I think she was the only waitress, or at least, the only one I saw. As she refilled my coffee, I went back to that hunk in the corner. God, did I just refer to that dream man as a hunk? That was a term my mother would use. Maybe I am losing my mind after that breakup. I thanked her as she walked away, but no response. I chose not to tell her the back of her uniform skirt was tucked into her panties with a personality like that. She could walk around all day showing her ass for all I cared.

A little bit of sugar makes the coffee go down. I was humming that as the seat across from me was taken by none other than Mr. Green eyes himself. Under the table, I pinched my thigh to make sure this was real, or had I went down the rabbit hole of my mind again?

“You’ve been sitting there for fifteen minutes watching me. Have we met?” he said.

I was speechless for a moment. I shook my head from side to side, my blue orbs locked with his. “I’m sorry. This weather makes me daydream more than usual. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” I said.

I couldn’t even fathom a man like this talking to me, let alone sitting across from me. God, what the hell was happening here? Have I lost my mind? Or was this dream a reality?

He sat the cup of black coffee in his hand down on the table, and without a second thought, removed my shoes and placed my feet in his lap. I wanted to pull back, but when his hands started to slowly massage the soles, I couldn’t. I was mesmerized by the boldness of his actions, and well, to be honest, the way it felt to have this stranger put his hands on me without my permission. A gentle tug, and he placed my feet against his crotch, pushing to allow me to feel the full length of his manhood.

“Oh shit,” I stumble for words, my coffee cup shaking in my hands.

A soft chuckle from the man as he continued to rub my toes, smiling as though this was as natural as breathing. “So, do you come here often? Bad pick up line?” he asked.

Again, I shook my head from side to side, almost choking on my words. “No. It was raining, and I needed shelter,” I said, lowering my voice to barely a whisper, “What are you doing? What if someone sees?”

Nonchalantly he said, “I’m rubbing your feet and enjoying a nice cup of coffee. Two strangers are sharing a booth and getting to know each other. Nothing wrong with making friends.”

I arched my feet against his crotch, pushing down on his dick in response. “No, it’s fine. I just was wanting to know if this was something normal for you?” I said. As I pumped my toes against what I assume was the head of his dick, he moaned out, closing his eyes for a minute. I never want this dream to end.

God, what if I made this man cum in his pants? Jesus, that would be humiliating for both of us. Well, for him, at least. He will have the wet spot, not me. I pressed harder, my toes rubbing back and forth. I could tell he was going to get off. I never felt when he tugged his zipper down, but I felt his. The skin on skin, he was jacking off with the help of my bare feet. A deep groan, and he soaked my toes with his cum, using the soles of my feet to milk himself. I closed my eyes for a minute, trying to understand what just happened, but when I opened them, he was gone.

“Miss, more coffee?” the waitress asked.

I stumbled for words, “No, just the check.”

“Oh, no need to worry about that. The gentleman in the corner paid for your coffee. You’ve been sleeping for a while,” she laughed as she walked off.

Was it a dream? How could that be so vivid and a fantasy? Pulling my feet from the other side, looking down at my bare toes covered in cum. As my cheeks flamed in heat, I looked over at Mr. Green eyes, shocked when he lifted his cup and nodded to me.

Well, that was a dream worth sharing. Want more? Call me on niteflirt

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