DISCLAIMER: The characters in this story are discussing sex the F had with another M, and both the F and the main M characters disparage the other M. Nothing too bad, but please don’t read if this isn’t your thing!

Copyright © 2024 . All rights reserved. Do not reupload or host this content. All characters are 18 .

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“Hey.” He sounded sleepy.

“Hey. Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah, but it’s fine, what’s up?”

I paused, smiling to myself. Wishing he could see me gloat. “I just wanted to tell you I just fucked someone.”

He perked up. “Really?” I could hear the sheets rustling as he moved. 

“Yeah, tonight. Actually like, right now. He just left. I still smell like him.”

“Tell me.” He said it quickly, impatiently.

“It’s this guy I’ve been on a few dates with, I met him through this girl at work.”

“Tell me about the fucking.”

“Just the fucking? You don’t want to hear about how he bought me flowers and opened the door for me?”

“No, fuck that. Tell me how he started it. How he started touching you. And I’m gonna touch myself while you do.” I heard sheets rustling again. I heard his breath rush out of his throat as he sat up and fell back against his headboard. The headboard I’d grabbed for leverage more times than I could count.

“Are you banging against your headboard already? I recognize the sound.”

“I’m getting in position for this riveting story you’re about to tell me. So, your place, right?”

“Yeah, we came back here after dinner, we walked.”

“Where did it start? Tell me, I want to see it. The couch by the window? The kitchen? Did you get him a drink?”

“So fucking desperate! You really want to hear everything?”

“Yes. Yes, tell me. I want to know how he felt. Was he rough?”

“You’ve gotta wait. I’ll tell you in order. How it happened.”

“Fucking tell me, please.”

“I met him at the restaurant…”

He cut me off. “No. Skip that shit.”

“No to you! You wanna hear it, you’re gonna hear it how I tell it.”

I could hear him back off, I could hear his posture soften. “Okay, okay, sorry. Yeah, tell me.”

“So I met him at the restaurant. He picked it. We’ve been there before, actually, last time you were here. The sushi place?”

“I remember.”

“He pulled out my chair. He shared his food with me. And, he paid.”

“What about the flowers?”

“He bought those on the walk back to my place. Like a housewarming gift, I guess.” I laughed as I said it, realizing how absurd it sounded. “I told him I lived close and he asked to walk me back and I said yes.”

“So you knew you were gonna fuck him?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s hot, he’s easy to talk to, he’s super respectful. All I’ve had recently is your rude ass.”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it just because you wanted to try something different.”

I rolled my eyes. “Anyway. So we got back here and I asked if he wanted a drink and he said yes. He was sweet, he didn’t rush it at all. I got him his drink and we sat on the couch for awhile, just talking.”

“This guy is lame.”

“It’s not lame! It’s how normal people fuck. Not kinky assholes like us.”

“I’m glad you included yourself in that.”

“You want me to get to the good part or you want to keep talking shit?”

“Sorry, keep going, princess.”

“Princess! Fuck you! So anyway,” I lowered my voice and slowed it, “he put his hand on my leg.”

“Where?”

“Like, upper thigh. Mid thigh on the side and then moved it to upper thigh.” I heard him snicker. “I fucking told you he was respectful!”

“Okay, so he’s about to get to first base. Keep going.”

“First base? Okay. Yeah, he did get to first base.” I paused and thought. “Wait, is first kissing or touching tits?”

“It’s kissing, you slut. Tits is second, fingering is third.”

“Right, I’m such a slut that for me, first is penis in vagina, second is anal… Come on, it’s been a long time since anyone talked to me about bases. So yeah, first fucking base.” I laughed as I said it.

“Is he a good kisser?”

“Yes. Sort of firm but rolling? I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Compare it to me.” His voice was breathy but stern.

“Mmmmm. Compared to you? Softer, less intense. He wasn’t like, gripping me.”

“Better than me?” I heard his breath catch in his throat. Almost a choke.

“Different than you.”

“Was he at least touching you more by the time he was kissing you?”

“Yes, he was touching me. He was moving his hands up me, like a wave. He sort of played with the hem of my shirt and touched my stomach, my skin, and asked if it was okay.”

“What did you say?”

“I said yeah, I told him I liked it.”

“This is moving slow as fuck so far.”

“I mean yeah, it was slower than I’m used to with you, but it was nice.”

“Do you wish I was slower? You want me to take you out and buy you flowers?” He laughed, knowing he wouldn’t change even if I asked him to.

“No. That would ruin it.” I was matter-of-fact.

“Are you sure?” He sounded cocky. He knew he didn’t need to ask, because he knew I wouldn’t change anything about the way he talked to me, the way he touched me, the way he fucked me.

“Yeah. Because you push me and I like it, I like that shit. I don’t think I’d trust anyone else to push me like you do.” I could hear him moving his hand faster, breathing harder. “He didn’t try to pinch me, or bite me, or spit in my mouth.” I breathed out, hard, remembering how all of it felt. “He was sweet.”

“Fuck.” He sounded incredulous.

“He touched me for awhile, held his palm on my side, on my ribs. It was warm, it made me feel warm. Then he moved his hands up and sort of cupped my tits.”

“He was on top of you?”

“Yeah, I was leaning back on the couch and he was leaning over me, on me. I moved my knee so he was between my legs.”

“Keep going.”

“He moved one of his hands to my face, gently. Kissing the whole time. And he put his other hand up my skirt.”

“Here we go. Now I’m going to start getting jealous.”

“Jealous?? That’s not why I called.”

“Yeah it is. You want me to wish it was me.”

“I mean, yeah, maybe I do want you to wish it was you, but is that jealousy? Maybe I just want you to be able to imagine it.”

“I imagine it all the time.”

I breathed in, sharply and deeply, when he said that. “All the time?” I waited to speak again - I wanted to catch my breath. Recover from the electric feeling I got when I thought about him cumming to me by himself. “But I don’t know when you’re thinking about fucking me. I want to hear you make yourself cum and know it’s because of me.”

“We’d be halfway there if this wasn’t some middle school make-out session!”

“You are so fucking impatient! This is the first time I fucked this guy! I’m not just gonna pull down my pants and sit on his cock like I do to you!”

“Well, keep going then. So he puts his hand in your skirt, then what?”

“He sort of ran his hand, the back of his fingers, up and down my pussy. On top of my underwear. He asked me what I like.”

“I wanna hear this part. What did you tell him?”

“I said I liked what he was doing.” I realized I was breathing harder. “I said don’t stop. He slid his fingers between my underwear and my pussy and started rubbing, slowly at first. He teased going into me, he sort of pushed a finger a little way in and then would take it back up to my clit.”

“Did he know what the fuck he was doing? Were you liking this?”

“Yes! It was more edging than timid. He knew what he was doing. He was making me wait.”

“I always make you wait.”

“I know. Maybe guys can smell it on me, that I like it.”

“You do look like you always want to fuck.”

I laughed. “What does that mean? You’re making me sound like a fucking wild animal.”

“I mean, you kind of are! I don’t know, I just feel like whenever I see you, when I’m walking up to you, before you know I’m there, I can see the face you make when I’m fucking you.”

“So instead of resting bitch face, I have resting fuck face?” This was amusing me. I’d never heard anyone say it before. “I mean, maybe the reason I look like that when I’m waiting for you is because I know what you’re about to do to me, you know?”

He paused. I could hear the swishing of his hand on his cock, gentler and slower than before. “You know if it was me instead of this nice guy, I’d already have you face down ass up getting pounded.”

“Yes, I realize if it was you instead of him that I’d be riding your cock by this point in the story. But variety is nice.” I smiled, remembering the soft touches, lingering kisses, from less than an hour ago. “You’re being annoying. I think I’m just gonna let you imagine what it’s like to watch me get fucked slowly. Maybe I’m done talking, night night.”

“Shut the fuck up, you called because you want to tell me.”

“No, I called because I wanted you to hear it. There’s a difference.”

“Well, let me hear it then.”

“Tell me what you’re doing first.”

“I’m stroking my cock. Slow as fuck to keep up with this story.”

“Are you naked?”

“No.”

“Get naked.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what I want.”

“Hold on.” I heard rustling as he shimmied out of the sweatpants I knew he slept in. “Okay, totally nude.”

“Good. Now tell me what you’re doing, and how you’re doing it. Are you laying down or sitting up?”

“Why don’t I just FaceTime you?”

“No, I want to hear you say it. I don’t want to see it.”

“I’m lounging.” He laughed. “Between laying and sitting. Pillows on my back, AirPods in, cock in hand.”

“Okay. Good.” I settled into my seat, legs pulled up, cozy. “So he’s fingering me. Kissing me. Grabbing my tits now, harder than before.”

“He finally got his shit together. Good for him. Go on.”

“I undid his belt and pants, and I ran my hand over his cock in his underwear.”

“Hard?”

“Yes, obviously. He sort of pulled away when I first touched it, pulled back and looked at me. Mouth hanging open, eyes fluttering. Do you remember that feeling or are you too fucking jaded?”

“I remember it with you.” All the breath left my lungs again when he said that. I knew it was a line, that he was just trying to get me to move the story along, that he was manipulating the conversation. But it was hot to hear.

“Fuck you. I took his hand, the one that was on my pussy, I took it and pushed his fingers into me. I pushed my body up into his hand and I held his fingers inside me. He gave me this look, he sort of cocked his head like he didn’t expect it. Then I pulled him close and turned my head, I let him suck and lick my neck and just enjoyed it.”

“Did you cum from his fingers?”

“No. I told him I wanted him to fuck me.”

“What?? This guy must have been garbage, you cum faster than anyone else I’ve ever fucked.”

“Chill out. I wanna keep telling you this, but I’ll stop if you keep talking shit on this very nice man.”

“Okay, okay, fine. I’m just surprised you’re like this with other dudes.”

“So I told him I wanted him to fuck me, and he wanted to do it in bed, so we moved.”

“I’m really trying hard here. This dude is way too romantic for me.”

“Maybe you’re the wild animal, bending me over whatever’s right in front of you!”

“So he lays you down on the rose petals he strategically placed on your bed, then what?”

“You’re a real piece of shit,” I laughed as I said it.

“So are you, or you wouldn’t be telling me all this.”

“Fair. So he fucked me in missionary.” I rushed it. Was I feeling badly for telling him this? Or was I just ready for him to make me cum with his voice?

“Wow. How anti-climactic. Did he cum?”

“Yeah.”

“In you?”

“In a condom, yeah.”

“Not in you raw?”

“No, it’s fucking messy, I only let you do that.”

“Mmmmm.” His breath was heavy, and I heard the moans that always sent electricity up my spine. “Lucky me. Wait, did you cum?”

I hesitated. “No, and… fuck. I feel like this is going to send your ego into outer space.”

“What?” I could hear the eagerness in his voice as he sat up straighter. 

“Everything physically was right, I could feel it coming. But it just wouldn’t cross the line into an orgasm. And I told him to tell me to cum, and he did, but I couldn’t. I think you fucking trained me only to cum when you tell me to.”

He paused, then pushed air out his nose. “Huh. I can’t believe you didn’t cum.”

“I know.”

He paused again. Then, in a lower voice, he asked, “Do you want to?”

I breathed in and out, knowing he could hear it. “Yeah.”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes.” I had been since he first said the word cum. I couldn’t help it. He really had trained me.

“You want me to make you cum?”

I shuddered, and I knew he heard it. Almost in a whisper, I said, “Yes.”

“Tell me why you didn’t like it with him.”

“Ahh, he was so nice. I don’t want to be a bitch.”

“You are a bitch. Just tell me. And rub your clit while you’re telling me. I’m stroking my cock for you. I’m thinking about how every inch of your body feels, and I want to hear you talk while I’m doing it.”

“He was just, very eager. I don’t know, he was very clearly into me, and it fucked me up. It messed with my head. I immediately didn’t want that. I wanted to earn it. I wanted to win it. I wanted him to be rougher, to be mean to me, to make me do what he wanted. But he was going really slowly. It was like playing pickleball when you grew up playing tennis.”

“You spoiled, elitist bitch. This nice guy is fucking you, trying his best to make you feel something, and all you can think of is how you want me to pull your hair and call you my whore and make you shake.”

“Yes, yes, yes, keep talking.” I tilted my head back and moaned. The feeling was swelling in me, and I knew I could have made myself cum right then. “Fuckkkk, tell me I don’t deserve it, tell me the shit I like to hear.”

“Were you thinking what I would have done differently all night? I wouldn’t have taken you to dinner first. I would have pushed you up against the wall in your apartment first and made you cum all over my cock. I’ve done it before, remember?”

“Mmmm, mmhmm, I remember. Before the same…” I could barely get the words out.

“That’s right. Before the same restaurant. I know it. I know you were thinking about me all night. When he ordered. When he told you you looked beautiful. When he said he was going to the bathroom but really he was shifting his hard cock. I know he was hard because I know how you dressed. Something tight, right? But no skin? So you can pretend to be modest while you’re showing the whole world the shape of your body. Those soft, wandering curves that are just waiting, begging to be touched. Fuck, I can feel them. I can feel your ass, the way it feels when I spread my hands all over it and then up your back, around to your tits.” I knew the sound of his breath. I knew it meant he was close.

My willpower broke. “Fuck it, FaceTime me. I want to see you cum.”

“You do it, I can’t.” Short syllables, heavy breath. I’d heard it a thousand times before from him.

I hung up the call and immediately hit the FaceTime icon. He answered before the first ring was finished. I saw him see me, and then drop his head back. He held the phone near his knee, and I could see his other hand pumping up and down. I recognized the rhythm. I could almost feel it, almost feel him pumping with the same speed and intensity inside me. Then he stopped and looked straight into the camera.

“Fuck it. You cum first. Or at the same time. I want to see you.”

I was almost as close as him. “Okay.” I pulled my knee up towards my face and moved a pillow under it and propped the phone up. I laid back, squeezed both my tits with one hand and then grabbed one, hard. I positioned my clit between my middle and ring fingers with the other hand.

I pushed up and down, a circling motion with pressure on the downward strokes. “I’m close. Say it, fucking say it.” I begged.

“What?” He wasn’t asking because he didn’t know what I meant. I looked down and saw his face and shoulders, the image jumping up over and over. “What do you want me to say?”

“You know what I want, tell me to cum, tell me to cum for you.” I opened my eyes long enough to see him smirking. “You’re gonna make me beg you? Fuck you.”

“Who does your pussy belong to?”

“You, it’s your pussy.” I groaned.

“Then why do you let other people touch it?”

“So I can tell you about it. So I can tell you how much better you are. How much prettier your cock is, how much faster you make me wet, how much easier you make me cum.”

“You need me to tell you to cum? You need me to say, “cum for me?” Think about my cock filling up your wet pussy, sliding in and pounding against your g spot. That’s it. Think about my hips hitting the back of your legs while I push them up to your shoulders. Think about my stomach pressing against yours. Then my arms at your side, you gripping them and pulling me towards you. Keep going. Cum for me. Let me make you cum. Keep going. I love it when you shake and shiver. I love it when you buck up into me. I love it when you can’t control it. Cum for me. Cum now.”

I did. My fingers rubbed as I shook and bucked, my breathing hard and erratic. I moaned the same way I did when his cock was inside me. I had it memorized, I could feel it.

As I was shaking, I heard him breathing faster. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He groaned and then let out a whimpering grunt.

We both laid back, catching our breath. It was familiar, comforting.

“So.”  His breath was still short as he recovered. “Are you gonna see him again? I’d love another middle-of-the-night phone call.”

“You asshole!”

“Don’t pretend. You’re gonna see him again, and you’re gonna want to cum again. Just tell me before the next time you two schedule dinner. I’ll make sure to take a disco nap that night.”

“I haven’t decided. How about this - you call me after your next one and tell me about it.”

“Really?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah. I want to hear all about how you are with other girls.”

“Okay, deal.” He smiled and rubbed his stomach with his palm. “I’m gonna enjoy this.”