His Visit

Part I -- At the door

My hand slid over his muscular chest. Even at his age, his outdoor proclivities kept him in good shape. My arm over his broad shoulders pulled me to my toes as he stood tall before me. His hands caressed my back as he held me tight to him. My fingers grazing over his shirt, tingling with anticipation and desire, but moving slowly twirling the buttons of his top, teasing their intent. Pop: the button slid through the restraining hole eager for release, his chest pulling the opening wider. The shirt was tighter as his chest puffed to my touch. Was it he who shivered, or me, as my fingertips grazed over the hair revealed by the open button; maybe both. Another button became the focus of attention, his chest pulling at it made it harder to release but it gave with another pop and a wider opening made for easier access to his warm skin.

Button by button, slowly popping open at my delicate touch, revealing more and more of his chest and abs for me to caress and tickle. Though I didn't see any of it; the image of his chest was from memory and this sight of my fingertips; my eyes closed tight as my lips were enveloped by his, my tongue tasting his, my cheeks collapsed as I sucked his tongue into me.

He lowered a hand from my back and pulled the shirt tail from his pants, making it easier for my hand to roam, and roam, it did. His chest hair provided no resistance to my explorations of his firm skin. The feel of the hard nubs of his nipples rubbing my palm as I drifted over them was incredible, his moans into my mouth proved the excitement he drew from my touch.

My hand twisted around capturing the sensation of his skin from every direction, but my intent wasn't hidden for long as the tips of my fingers delved into the tight recess of his pants. His belt, his snug-fitting jeans, presented a barrier to my target, but the feel of his hard manhood through his pants, as my hand grasped it, wasn't enough for me, I wanted, needed, to feel its heat, its silky smoothness, its strength in my hand. With practiced precision, though in a backward attack, I slipped the belt apart and let it drape open. As a safe cracker takes joy in each step of their process, so did I in the release of that leather binder.

His hand, recently pulling his shirt tail out, returned not to my back, but onto my face. His gentle touch was contrary to his muscular frame that popped his shirt open with ease. The warmth and tenderness were easy to feel as his fingers danced slowly over my cheek.

Of the locks that remained, the zipper slid down easily but offered teasingly little access; my hand slipped in to feel the hidden prize encased in yet another layer of protection. I knew it was his desire to tease me as much as I was teasing him. The thin layer of material did nothing to hide the veiny texture of his hardness from my propping fingertips.

Still kissing him, still sucking his tongue and allowing him to suck mine; I turned my attention to the sole remaining lock. The button of his jeans proved a challenge I was prepared to take. My fingers lacked the precision they showed with his shirt buttons; the warmth of my target radiated through them driving anxious frustration. My lips pressed hard to his in a vain attempt to help my fingers twist the small metal object through the tight hole that held it in place. Fumbling made the desire stronger, turning that frustration into intent; when the button finally popped, gentleness returned to my lips.

My hand covered his manhood feeling the intensity of the blood rushing through it. He moaned loudly into our kiss. He wanted this as much as I did and that beyond everything made the prize effort worth the effort.

The thin material between my palm and his cock was not the unpleasant roughness I had imagined it would be. Soft, silky, slippery, it reminded me of the very material that encased my own delicate area. My strong handsome man, this muscular figure that held me tightly with both strength and tenderness, his strong lips, soft on my own, was, like me, wearing panties. The shiver of delight that ran through me would have made me collapse had I not been supported in his strength.

Moving easily over the silky fabric, my fingers traced the outline of his cock and balls. His hips shifted side to side forcing his jeans to slide down his legs. Without releasing me or my lips from his grasp, he kicked them off his feet and stood with his thighs slightly wider apart giving me easy access to caress him.

Of course, despite the wonderful feeling of a panty-covered cock, I desperately needed to feel his skin. I slipped my fingers into the stretchy waistband of the panties, this final barrier offering now real deterrent to my progress. The direct heat of his firm member sent another shiver through me, my fingers instinctively wrapping themselves around the shaft, sliding along its length, my palm feeling the wetness bubbling from the tip.

Lost in the euphoria of reaching and engaging with my goal, I hardly noticed his hand had moved from my back again, this time to caress, through the thin materials of my skirt and panties, my own hard leaking cock.

The pulsing of his hard member in my hand revealed his uncontrolled intention. As his hands loosened their grip on me, and our lips parted, no doubt remained. Without a word, just a quick stare into his widening eyes as my body moved gracefully to my knees, my hand never releasing the prize they had sought so long for until my lips could replace it. His manhood, once hidden by the stretched aside panties I now saw were pale pink, slipped easily into my mouth and reached for the back of my throat. His taste sent tingles through me, the warmth and softness contrasted with the cold firmness and strength of his steely hard cock as my tongue danced over that most sensitive part.

His body rocked, his balance failing, hands dropping to my shoulders for support. The hard cock in my mouth grew a bit more, stiffening itself, preparing to provide me with what I desired most of it, its hot cum. Not wanting to prolong my desire, I tickled faster and was instantly rewarded with a hot slimy stream of cum over my tongue, the taste sending me into shivers of my own. His spurts continued to eject more of the precious fluid into me, simultaneously satiating and elevating my desire for more.

A brief sadness washed over me as the final spurt send a droplet of cum into the building pool between my cheeks. Not wanting to leave anything behind, I gripped the shaft at the base and slid my thumb along the smooth silky flesh pressing on the vein that delivered that wonderful prize, extracting the last remnants of his spunk from the deflating manhood between my lips.

His hands, strong and solid once more, gripped my shoulders and drew me to my feet, his face coming into view betrayed not only his gratitude, but a not well-hidden desire. I knew what he wanted, I wanted it too. Our lips met, his probing tongue parting them to taste the gift he had just given me, his own taste mixed with my saliva. Dancing together, passing the fluid between them, our tongues savored the taste together, our throats swallowing small bits at a time until we shared completely of it, yet still not parting.