Reassembling the night - Sex Stories

Reassembling the night

... his jeans, but couldn't account for his underwear. Her scarlet bra had hit the floor halfway to the bed, meaning she'd approached practically naked from the side of the room he was facing. Squinting, he could just about make out the size from the worn label. 34E, maybe F. Certainly not a small girl. He pictured her standing there, breasts heaving, eyeing his nakedness with a mischievous glint in her eye while her fingers traced down muffiny overhang to the waistband. The figure-eight of her black panties completed the trail a few feet from the bedside and told him all he needed to know. He imagined her advancing in her Stay Puft birthday suit. Perhaps he'd been sitting right in this spot, waiting. Maybe she pushed him back, clambered onto the bed and sank onto his hard prick, riding him while those floppy tits swung above his face and her cries rang out in sync with him biting her nipples. Most girls loved a bit of rough in the heat of the moment. Or had he indulged in the taste of her first? She could have crawled forward on her knees, settled over his face and lowered herself to his waiting mouth and tongue. Ryan licked his upper lip and inhaled, seeking validation. None came, though he knew it didn't necessarily rule anything out. Again his gaze fell on her underwear, wishing it would trigger a memory. He stooped for the knickers and sat back upright, running the delicate lace through his fingertips as if reading panty Braille. No flashes of recognition sprang forth. He ...

... rotated the garment until the stained crotch was upright, a pair of silvery trails alluding to her state of arousal. He delicately touched one of the glimmering tracks, finding it tacky against the pad of his finger and immediately felt the familiar surge in his veins. Furtively checking over his shoulder to confirm she was still resting, he returned to the knickers and brought the fabric to his face, inhaling deeply. The sharp tang of female arousal stung the back of his nasal passage and his cock thickened appreciatively. He sniffed again, longer, stopping at key spots along the surface. As he roamed the gusset like a perverted anteater, various strengths of smell invaded his nostrils, from faint traces of urine and sweat, through deliciously pungent pussy juice, to the exotic aroma of her big butt. It excited him more than he'd care to admit. Though he adored the filthiness of the taboo act, he'd only indulged with one other chubby girl – Summer was her name – and she'd been only too willing to give it up after he'd eaten her delightfully shaved pussy to a dripping orgasm. The muffled sounds of her begging for more into the pillow and images of her upturned cheeks rippling as he pounded into her tight, virgin arsehole flashed through his mind. It had been on someone else's bed at a house party, which was pretty depraved in itself. How could he remember that and not what happened last night? Stupid memory . He returned to the underwear in his hands, hoping that more of the ...