He's Never Made Me Come - Sex Stories

He's Never Made Me Come

... can guarantee that there’s not a person on the planet who wouldn’t be incredibly aroused by walking in on their partner pleasuring themselves. Go home tonight, have a bath, relax, pamper your body. Then put on your favourite underwear, and have an early night. Spend the evening worshipping your body in the way you want him to. Take it slow, touch yourself all over. Learn how your body reacts to different things. Stop thinking and start feeling. Lose yourself in fantasy. Masturbate like you’ve never done it before. Tease yourself, listen to what your body wants. Let yourself moan out loud, don’t try to hide your pleasure. And make sure he catches you. Once he’s seen you completely lose yourself to pleasure, he’s going to do whatever it takes to make sure that next time it’s him that gets you there. But make sure that you’re in control. Tell him what you want and how you want it. Guide his fingers, let him know what feels good...” She was wild-eyed now, totally absorbed by whatever fantasy it was that she would pick later. “What are you thinking about?” This time she looked at me with no shame, just pure lust. “He’s never gone down on me. I want to know what that feels like. I want to feel his mouth on me. His tongue, his lips, his teeth... but I don’t know how to guide him if I don’t know what to expect...” Now I felt truly sorry for her. In her forties, married almost twenty years, never satisfied by her man... and never having experienced a warm, wet mouth on her most ...

... intimate parts. I looked her in the eyes, and she held my gaze, but I could see that she was squirming slightly in her chair. Without breaking eye contact, I stood up and slowly crossed the room toward her. I saw her breathing get shallower as I neared her, and she bit her lip as I knelt down on the floor in front of her, my head now inches from her knees, which were tightly locked together. “W...what are you doing?” she whispered, her expression one of torment. I rested my hand on her knee and realised she was shaking. I’d never seen her look so unsure of herself, so at war with herself. I realised in that moment that I would give her whatever she needed. “What do you want me to do?” “Please... do to me what you do for your girlfriend. Make me feel good. I need to know that I can be made to feel sexy...I need something to fantasise about if I’m going to... masturbate... for my husband. I need to know what a tongue feels like...” I considered her request. I so badly wanted to show her what she was worth, to give her what she deserved, but I couldn’t risk losing her as my counsellor. I needed to know I could still rely on her after. “Just make me one promise,” I said, looking directly into her dark eyes. “You close your eyes and picture your husband while I do this. It’s his hands, his mouth, his desire all over you. Don’t make this personal. I’m just helping you to help yourself. Showing you what to show him. Okay? Promise?” “...I promise.” “Good. Now close your eyes. Relax into ...