I knew I wanted to see his cock within minutes of meeting him. First dates are always a little nerve-wracking but I was settling in thanks to his easy energy. He was flirty and funny as hell, even giving me (the token extrovert) a run for my money with the pace of conversation.

Luckily, we’d opted for coffee which meant I was on my best behavior. No temptations to take things further than a little kiss or two. And after a stroll in one of the last days of a warm fall, we did just that. He asked first, but playfully. We’d sat side-by-side on a picnic bench and, with knees touching, finally broken the barrier. He kissed me. My mind felt even more made up. A few more kisses before we walked back. My body felt tingly and when we said goodbye, he left his lips on mine a little too long.

Our second date came soon after. We grabbed drinks and he suggested we watch a movie at one of our places. He brushed the small of my back as we left the bar and I reminded myself of the mantra I’d been practicing: “Don’t be a slut. Don’t be a slut. Don’t be a slut.” I wanted to do things differently this time. Take it slow. But slow is hard.

We chose my place. Swapped some playlists on the couch at a polite distance from one another. He told me he wanted to kiss me again and I leaned in. This time, his hands started to wander. I tried to care but I couldn’t. I was just focused on making sure mine didn’t. I wondered if he’d noticed me eyeing his jeans all night. Daydreaming about what his cock looked like. Felt like. Tasted like….

We’d take breaks between make-out sessions. Watching a show and chatting. Each time he returned to my body, he explored more of it. I didn’t want to stop him. Before I’d realized what was happening, he was gently pushing a finger inside me. And then another. It felt heavenly. I grabbed his hand and pulled him away. He looked startled at first until I guided his fingers to my lips and tasted myself. He looked shocked and started kissing me ferociously. Hands and fingers everywhere. We did this dance for a little while. I was trying to remember my mantra. Trying so desperately to restrain myself. But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I needed him.

“Fuck it”, I announced, pulling away again. I slid to my knees in front of him and he let out an audible gasp. Surely he’d have thought this could be a possibility? “I wasn’t expecting this.” His eyes darkened excitedly as he unbuckled his pants. I could finally have what I wanted.

As I pulled down his briefs, I slowed myself down. I wanted to savor this. To take my time in this ritualistic act.

I held him in my hand and he twitched and let out a little shudder. Now I was fucking ravenous. I leaned in, flicked my tongue against the tip of him, tasting his warm skin. I gently kissed his shaft, holding him with my other hand as I turned the kisses into wet marks with my tongue. I didn’t take him into my mouth yet. I wanted him needier. When I finally wrapped my lips around him, he sunk into the couch further. As I started a careful motion of swirling and tongue-flicking, he let out a single “Fuck.”

I sped up at a steady rate. Occasionally slowing back down just to edge him a little. A minute or so in and I had my first reward. He started leaking precum and I tasted it, mixing with my spit to make everything creamy. I was so blissed out I almost missed how close he was getting. Every time I looked up his head was tipped all the way back, neck taut and eyes closed. His leg muscles started to strain and his cock twitched uncontrollably. I sped up. He told me he was close and I was drunk now. So immersed in his cock I never wanted this to end. His little sounds, the taste of his skin sending me into orbit. He told me he was going to cum. My favorite phrase. I kept going. I was so eager to see how much he’d give me. How he’d taste. I didn’t want this to end but I was mission-driven. His pleasure made me high and I wanted that next hit. The big one. He came in waves, filling my mouth as I struggled to swallow every drop of him. I choked on his cock and didn’t waver. I kept moaning and working up and down until he was done. I wasn’t quite finished yet though.

As he released and the tension left his body, I peppered kisses all over his dick. Making his sensitive tip my next target as I gently squeezed him and collected all the cum left in his cock on my tongue. I wanted more. I didn’t know his tolerance yet though so I forced myself to pull away. Giving him some last lazy strokes, licks and kisses. I could taste him everywhere and smell him on my skin.

Praise is a drug for me too. The next best reward after what he’d already given me. Pleasing is my love language. Serving someone with my mouth is utter bliss. Sort of like my highest calling.

He told me he’d never cum so hard or so fast. He almost tried to apologize but I smiled and told him it was a compliment. That was the truth. Losing himself in my mouth drove me wild. His lack of control was everything I’d wanted. I needed him spoiled for his next blowjob. Feeling another girl’s tongue but dreaming of mine.

He stayed a while longer. Gave me a parting kiss and told me he’d had fun. We went on one more date before he broke it off. I always wondered if my pace turned him off. If that blowjob changed the way he’d seen me. I was sad but I couldn’t regret it. It was just so so satisfying and I was proud. I’d miss his taste but I’d carry those motions to the next man I dated, savoring him just as much. Servicing just as eagerly. It’s just who I am.