This sex vignette from Under His Hand reminds of the sort of blog post I was always looking for (and too rarely found) back when I would sometimes do Sex Blog Roundups for Fleshbot:

He was standing on his side of the bed when he started stripping, looking at me.

There was an animal in his eyes.

Standing on my own side of the bed, I started stripping, too. Cooperative prey, I am.

He climbed up on the bed, on his knees, and started toward me. I followed suit, climbing up and walking on my knees to meet him in the middle.

“Only in missionary and with the lights out.” I said playfully, thinking of the prudish behaviors we’d been mocking.

He gripped the hair at the back of my head and crushed his mouth to mine in reply.

Prudish wasn’t happening.

This was one of the rare times when kissing hit me as I assume it hits others. One of the rare times that I leaned into it, encouraging his tongue to probe and explore. His appreciative moan sent shivers down my spine and I went on my own exploration with my own tongue.

When we pulled away, wiping wetness from our lips and chins, there was a bit of animal in both of us. I felt bold and uninhibited, seeing the goosebumps, goosebumps that I gave him, peppering his arms and legs.

And his cock. Stiff and jutting. I grinned and went back in for more. Taking the initiative and grabbing, wanting, nipping at his neck and shoulders, his nipples, my fist wrapped around him.

I’m not usually the aggressor in bed. I’m much more suited to the submissive role– go figure, right? And generally, he’s not much of one for laying back and taking it.

He wasn’t this time either. He met my aggression with his own, sinking his teeth into the spot where my neck curves into my shoulder and growling. My movements on his cock, so sure and determined before, faltered. My head bowed and fell against his chest.

I tilted my head to the side, exposing myself to his mouth. Normally I dislike biting, finding the sharp pain of flesh trapped between unforgiving teeth to be jolting and unpleasant. But this time… this time, the pain came in delicious waves, seeming to start at the point of the bite and working their way down to my cunt, in a seemingly endless influx of pleasure.

“Oh.” Lightly, softly, the surprise carried in my voice. “I like that.” I felt his lips curl against my skin. “I knew you’d see it my way eventually,” he said, his mouth opening for another bite.

Across my collarbone, down my chest, back over my shoulders. My own body rippling into goosebumps; still we stayed as we were, up on our knees, face to face.

I wondered how I could get his cock in me from that position.

It was still wrapped in my fist. Hot and dry, smooth as velvet. And hard. So. Very. Hard. It was also about even with my belly button, and hot as belly button fucking sounds, I wanted him in my cunt. Now.

I tilted my hips forward, rubbing against him, inviting, wordlessly begging. Without loosening his teeth, he shoved a hand down between my legs and attacked my pussy. He chuckled at finding me so wet, greedy greedy cunt, and easily slid in a finger, two, then three, fucking me with them while I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and hung on for the ride.

And what a ride he is.

I came, hard, soaking over his fingers. When pulled his hand away, his gleaming, glistening hand, he pushed my head down to his crotch. As I took him into my mouth, I felt him wiping the warm wetness of my pussy juices across my back, in my hair, down my arms.

As Paris would say– that’s hot.

The smell of sex filled the air. I didn’t suck him long before I was rolling over on to my back, spreading my legs, a wanton whore inviting him in.

He accepted the invitation.

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