Close Encounters Like No Other - Sex Stories

Close Encounters Like No Other

... one on, must I?”

“When I say so and not before.” She sits up and John kneels as she moves closer and his penis slaps against her hungering lips before her tongue swirls around and over the domed tip, her agile fingers wrapped around the veined skin and working him. She’ll gag if he humps her mouth in the deepening way that he now begins to pursue.

“More of that later,” he kisses as she is pulled off him, her look glazed as if she’s fallen into another world, having pursued an act with all but a stranger. “Lie down again for me, lovely Josie.”

She feels his kisses on her thighs, the soft flesh that his mouth trails over as his fingers again work her slit until his mouth lands upon it once more and his flickering tongue darts in and out. She bucks her hips, then twists as his fingers trail down to her butt hole, and his thumb presses on her pubic bone then onto her clit.

“John! What you’re doing to me is just crazy!” she calls out knowing that another orgasm is rushing to meet her.

The man knows it because he holds back, and relents in his taking of her, but his fingers continue in their beguiling caresses and pokes. Every touch is now devoted to her slit and pussy’s walls. She’s so wet that they glide over her enervated skin in featherlight caresses and tantalizing pokes.

“Don’t go too far with those touches to me…you know what I mean! I’m not into that!” she cries out, her words at odds with how she feels to have his touch, and yet she is undeniably ...

... thrilled by what he has sought to do. She’s just not into pursuing depraved ways of sex, but the best of casual loving with no commitments.

“Okay, Josie, so tell me when to stop.”

He continues to entice her with his touches, both to her pussy and the wrinkled skin of her butthole, but in one they tease the edges only. She can’t keep herself from trembling, bucking, and twisting her hips off the bed to meet his touches, the caresses to her clit taking her where she knows John wants to be. John’s ways are like a masseur’s caress, slow and deliberate, and she shudders again and is overcome with the rushes of an orgasm. She needed it all, what her nervy anticipation to be with him expected, and John’s evident years of experience that have been brought to his taking of her, so far.

“I want more, so much more!” she cries out and wrenches free of his hold upon her. She wants to touch and caress him, to stroke the hairy skin of his chest, to trail slow kisses over his prick and take him, plague him with her touches, just as he has done to her.

He lies down between her parted legs and rests on his elbows by her head, gazing admiringly at her body at how her breasts are splayed, her nipples hard and proud. He kisses and slides his tongue slowly over the warm skin beneath them, then sucks on her nipples, rolling them between his tugging lips.

“May I lick your clit?” he asks with a devilish grin on his lips and gazing into her eyes.

“Think I can stop you?” she stammers, his ...