Brian, 41. Former NYPD sergeant retired on disability. 6’3″ and Irish as fuck.
We go out for sushi. He talks. A lot. About his uncle, his ex, his son, his ex. His accent—which he calls a New York cop accent—makes me squirmy. Whatevuh. He’s nervous. I see the beads of sweat on his nose.
I notice how large his hands are. “You know what they say—big hands, big gloves,” he cracks.
We’re in his truck by 7:30. He asks if I want to get coffee. I suggest a drive; we’re both more comfortable in the confined space of his SUV, all leather and Sirius XM and LCD screen. I tell him some of my horror stories; he is appropriately horrified.
When we’re in my neighborhood, I mention I live nearby, and he says maybe we could see my place. Perfect. I’m practically bouncing up and down in my seat as I direct him
Until I realize he’s going to do a drive-by. Clueless. Don’t you want to come in? I say. Sure, OK, he says.
We’re in the doorway to the bedroom—I left a light on, a beacon showing the way—and I can’t wait anymore. I pounce. He is ready and I’m naked in about five seconds.
“What a sweet shaved pussy,” he says, petting me along my slit. “You’re already wet.” He slides a finger inside. I reach down, push his hand closer. Second finger joins the first. I rock on my hands and knees.
He strokes, kneads my ass.
The force of the blow pitches me forward. His fingertips move in circles around the tingling.
“You like this?”
Other side this time, more toward the thigh.
He finds the sweet spot. The crack rings in my ears.
A dozen or so more times. I’m not ready for him to stop, but he’s alarmed by the color of my behind, which really doesn’t hurt. In a bad way. His attention wanders.
“Want a finger in here?” His hand is wandering idly up and down the crevice of my ass.
“Sure,” I say. I retrieve the lube from the bedside table drawer and hand it to him. He drizzles it across my asshole, and I feel his fingertip rubbing around the pucker. I visualize the second sphincter opening for him, not clenching, not fighting.
“How is it you’ve never had a cock in this ass?” he says.
“Don’t know. Just haven’t,”
“Have you had toys?”
“Nope.” I rock my hips from side to side, pumping his cock slowly with my left hand.
“Do you want one?”
I laugh. “No anal on the first date. I’m old fashioned.”
“Ah,” he says. “Grandma rules.”
I rise up on my knees. “Do you want a condom?”
“Aren’t we being bad enough?” he says. He plays with my nipple like you might click a ballpoint pen, absentmindedly, without thought.
“Bad? I don’t know.” I move his head towards the nipple he’d been twiddling. “I think we’re being very very good.” He’s rock hard. I hand him a condom and he stands.
“Getting yourself on the edge of the bed for me? That’s hot,” he says, holding his cock.
He is inside in one stroke, and I’m breathless.