So, It's been about five years since I posted the first chapter. I highly reccomend you either go back and read or re-read for those of you that enjoyed the original, the first part. Hopefully, it won't take anohter 5 years for the next installment.
Although neither of us really wanted to get up, Sofia placed her soft hands on my chest, propped herself up, and eventually rolled off from on top of me. My mostly deflated slick cock popped free from her greedy lips, the remainder of my cum dripping from her dilated opening. I rolled onto my side and rested on my elbow so that once again my face was just inches from her little tuft of thick black hair as she stood there naked and perfect in front of the couch, the pungent smell of our sex, a sweet salty mixture of sweat, cologne, perfume, and each other’s fluids filling my nostrils. I breathed it in relishing the evidence of the past hours’ vigorous activities.
“Fuck,” I said in a relaxed, even voice still sounding drunk on our sex, “just smelling you can make me hard… look.” As I took another deep breath the air seemingly went past my lungs, past my diaphragm, and magically began to inflate my well-used member again, not so I was fully hard, but enough for it to plump back up. Sofia just smiled, her deep brown eyes lighting up still lost in the afterglow of her multiple orgasms.
“C’mon baby,” she purred in that sexy accent. Everything about this women just oozed sex. “Let’s go wash up.”
And with that she walked off towards the bathroom. For a hypnotizing moment I just watched the two caramel spheres that comprised her impossible backside rock back and forth as she sauntered off, eventually peeling myself from the sofa and following her into the bathroom where she had already started the shower. As the room began to steam up, we slipped past the glass door and got under the stream of the overhead rain shower. Up until that moment, I didn’t think it was possible for Sofia to be appear any sexier than I had already seen her, but as she arched her back and the water bounced off her taught skin her appeal reached new heights.
Sofia was a mirage, a vision of beauty and perfection and I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around just how lucky I was at this moment. Her body: absolutely glistening in the shower’s stream. I was lost.
That’s why I hadn’t noticed that she had started to lather her hands up with some body wash. She let her long thin fingers delicately run over my chest, the soapy trail immediately erased by the falling water. How funny, I thought as her hands glided effortlessly over my body, we met because we wanted to escape the pouring rain and now here we were, our naked bodies inches apart, standing under a downpour of water not dissimilar from the earlier storm. I smiled and laughed to myself, enjoying the pleasant irony of the situation.
“Turn around,” Sofia cooed, “I need to get your back.”
As difficult as it was to peel my eyes off of her, I’m not one to argue, so I happily tuned away from her and immediately felt her slick hands on my shoulders. Our earlier activities had already proven to me that Sofia was an expert with her hands and her firm but gentle kneading did nothing to dispel that notion. With practiced motions, she worked out any knots leftover from the stress of the work day that at this point seemed a life time ago. Her hands skated down my back in long sensual strokes repeatedly before stopping at the small of my back where her thumbs circled applying just the right amount of pressure.
“Mmmmm,” I sighed. “That feels absolutely incredible. yeahhh… right there….”
“ Right there?” she giggled back seductively.
“Yessss… god, that feels good”
“How about here?” she offered with a sly intonation as her hands wrapped around my body, her breasts now firmly pressed against my back, hard nipples pushed into my wet skin. “Does that feel good too?” she whispered directly into my ear before gently nibbling on my lobe.
“Fuck yes,” I groaned.
“Good” she sensually purred back, one hand sliding over my chest the other working its way down my stomach. She slowly wrapped her hand one finger at a time around my spent cock, gently squeezing and massaging me, teasing me knowingly back to life, her full lips still playfully grazing on my ear and neck. Every touch Sofia made was masterful, every tease perfected, but natural. It was all too much, and although I was no longer an 18 year old with endless stamina, somehow I was once again rock hard in Sofia’s skilled hand.
Using the suds as lubrication she worked her hand up and down my rigid shaft with long slow gestures, rotating and corkscrewing her wrist with each stroke. She worked gracefully, keeping a methodical, purposeful rhythm. All I could do was tilt my head back, letting the water splash off my face, and sigh with pleasure.
I began to feel Sofia’s lips working their way down my back, creating a trail of kisses that stopped at the base of my spine. The hand that had been on my chest slithered back around and was now gently nudging my legs apart. With a delicate touch, she began caressing what until a moment ago I thought were my empty balls, now rapidly filling with seed. Still stroking my stiff member, never breaking rhythm, her two hands worked like a flamenco guitarist—one hand finger-picking chords with the other hand sliding along the frets. She knowingly pressed her thumb against my perineum, sending an electric shock through my body, capped off with an affirming moan. So utterly lost in the pleasure, I didn’t even think twice when I felt Sofia’s tongue slide between my soapy cheeks, tickling my anus. Her hands continuing their movements, her long strokes increasing speed but still deliberate as the tip of her tongued began to circle and flick over my puckered asshole.
My body was being overtaken with new sensations and it was almost too much to handle. Tongue pressed against my tight hole, Sofia jerked my eight inches, both hands now on my shaft twisting and writhing in harmony. My body stiffened, my cock impossibly sensitive from all the activity. I was going to cum again. I let out a loud, deep and guttural cry as my cock twitched repeatedly in her hands, relinquishing every last drop of cum my tired testicles could muster up. As I breathed heavily, Sofia’s hands finally surrendered my instantly soft member, spinning me around only to once again engulf my manhood with her mouth, letting her tongue swirl around making sure she cleaned up every last drop. The sensations were jolting and my body continued to spasm with every greedy flick of her tongue.
Finally, she stood back up, feigning innocence, but sporting a wicked and knowing smile. I pulled her to me one last time letting my tongue part her lips before gently nibbling on her bottom lip and pulling away.
“So,” Sofia smiled again, “How about that meal now?”
“Sure,” I chuckled back, “but first I need to wash off from this shower.” The bad joke seemed to miss its mark—perhaps, a language gap. Regardless, Sofia smiled back before stepping out of the shower and wrapping herself in a towel. I quickly followed, cinching a towel around my waist as well.
Still wearing our bath towels, we sat at the concrete slab island that separates the kitchen from the rest of the living space on the pair of adjacent Aalto bent wood kitchen stools, enjoying our well-deserved meal of pasta tossed in a quick home-made tomato sauce. Conversation began to flow in syncopation with wine—another glass, another anecdote and I began to get a better picture of how this angel perched in front of me magically came into my life.
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Brought up in a strict catholic family, Sofia, now 26 had spent much of her youth pushing back against all of her family’s values. As a child she would spend hours drawing and creating designs, following her creative muse as she saw fit. This, of course was a defiant contrast to the life of reserved bible study, one enforced by harsh Nuns, that her parents had envisioned for her and were subjecting her to. Nevertheless, Sofia continued to create, filling the margins of her notebooks with ideas and doodles, only briefly pausing when one of the nuns, using a meter stick as a teaching tool would decide she needed to focus. This however, only increased her drive to create and explore.
As her childhood morphed into adolescence, her inquisitive mind and rebellious streak manifested in thoughts of sexuality. Even under the cover of her conservative catholic school uniform, her womanly features became hard to miss and she started to noticed more and more men lasciviously staring at her as she walked down the street, got on the tram, or just when stopping to buy a Coke at the store after class let out. Sofia relished in the attention, both seeing it as a compliment and as an affirmation of her continued need to push back against her rigid upbringing. She began to recognize the power she could wield with her femininity and once she did, she never paid for another after school Coke again.
It was around this time, while staying at a friend’s house that she experienced her first orgasm.
Sofia and Yasmin had grown up together, went to school together, and shared the same disdain for their similar repressive situations. Yasmin however, was a bit slower to blossom and although striking in her own right, her slender frame, small chest, and long legs—which may have made her perfect proportions to be a fashion model—didn’t garnish the same attention as Sofia’s mature curves when out in public. Nevertheless, the two young teens made quite the tandem when seen together.
Yasmin’s parents were wealthy and lived in a large Catalan Modernisme Villa. As an only child, she had a section of the impressive dwelling to herself. Sofia, who came from more humble beginnings loved the space that the house provided, spending time there and arranging weekend sleepovers as often as possible. The families were members of the same Church and therefore, Sofia’s usually overbearing parents allowed these regular escapes, trusting that their values would be kept up while their daughter visited this like-minded family. And, for the most part they were correct. Regardless of their fortune, Yasmin’s parents maintained strong Catholic values and rarely let the girls out of the house during these weekend get-togethers.
However, the large house did provide Sofia with a sense of freedom she rarely felt at home. The girls were able to paint, gossip, and create their own little sanctuary in their isolated wing. Frequently, the girls would explore the internet together, looking up goofy sites and chatting on AOL with their other friends. At the turn of the millennium, the internet was still the Wild West—children and teenagers were becoming quite adept a surfing sites and locating information, but the older generation, aside from email, still remained fairly clueless.
That’s why it’s not surprising that one weekend, the girls found themselves with their eyes glued to the screen as the 56k connection slowly unfurled an image of an overly tanned blond with bleached hair and large, apparently fake breasts straddling the lap of a hairless, muscular man sporting a terrible mullet and hoop earrings. The woman’s eyes stared intensely towards the camera, red lips parted with a look that registered somewhere between surprise and pleasure. Her long legs were spread wide exposing her bald pussy and light pink lips that were greedily clinging to a large and veiny cock.
Both girls froze, eyes transfixed on the screen. They had never seen an image like this before and although they more or less understood what sex was, their sheltered upbringing had kept them from ever seeing anything even remotely this explicit. Sofia felt her nipples harden under the long nightshirt she was wearing, the brown points poking through the thin jersey material, and her bare legs clenched together creating a pleasant pressure. A hand instinctively found itself burrowing between her clasped thighs, wedging the stretchy fabric against her damp simple white panties. Her eyes closed and she let out a slight, but audible sigh.
“Sofia?” Yasmin interrupted, forcing her to open her eyes, face flush with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. “What are you doing?”
“Mmmmm…. What do you mean?” Sofia’s now husky voice replied, biting her lower lip, hand still pressed against her warmth through the two layers of fabric.
“Your hand… my god, it looks like what you’re doing feels amazing.”
“Mmmhmmmm” Sofia nodded, “it feels really good. Don’t you want to try too?”
“Maybe... I’ve never done this before” A look of equal parts embarrassment and excitement crept across Yasmin’s elegant angular face, her emerald eyes sparkling with anticipation, before acquiescing and letting her slender fingers drift between her legs eventually finding the source of her radiating heat. “Ohhh… I see….mmm… that does feel nice.”
“Look how pink her vagina is,” Sofia breathed back letting her fingers rub in circles. “And it’s hairless. Look, not a single hair! Is that normal?”
“I don’t know. Mine doesn’t look like that,” Yasmin answered back, now relaxing her body and enjoying her own sensations.
“Me too… I don’t think I look anything like that. I’ve never looked closely, but mmmmm,” Sofia moaned. “I have hair covering mine. Do you want to see?”
Growing up together the girls had obviously been around each other naked before, but neither had ever really paid attention or even considered that they may be different from one another. Both assumed that all vaginas were more or less the same. The thought that they could all be unique never crossed their minds. But now, staring at this raunchy image, the girls were confronted with the possibility of a whole new reality and their eager inquisitive minds began to race.
“Ummm… Ok… yes…” Yasmin whispered bashfully. Sofia removed her hand from warm spot between her legs, revealing to Yasmin—whose eyes were now locked on Sofia—a small wet spot on the front of the stretched out nightshirt. Yasmin’s hand continued stroke her increasingly warm, damp spot as Sofia reached under her long shirt, hooked her fingers in the waist band of her deceptively innocent looking panties, and slowly slid them down her tan Spanish legs. Then sitting back down, across from Yasmin, she hiked the hem of her shirt over her round hips exposing a dense, but soft triangle of dark adolescent pubic hair. Slowly, Sofia opened her legs, just enough so that Yasmin could see the small brownish pink labia protruding from the downy forest between Sofia’s legs, noting their partially agape position and their wet sheen.
“Mmmm wow… you are so different from that woman,” Yasmin offered as her fingers continued their dutiful work. And indeed she was, not just the hair either. Sofia’s pussy was markedly smaller than the woman in the image, her outer lips puffier, with smaller, shorter lips poking through and a small, slightly visible clit escaping the folds. It was a far cry from the stretched out and filled to the brim, light pink, hairless counterpart visible on the screen.
“Is it bad?” Sofia worried, closing her legs slightly, aware that she may be unusual after all.”
“No, I like it… it’s beautiful,” she encouraged. Then: Do you want to see me?”
“Yes, please,” Sofia quickly answered with anticipation wanting to confirm that she was not alone.
Repeating the steps Sofia had taken earlier, Yasmin began to remover her underwear. Her complexion was a bit paler than Sofia’s, with an olive hue. Her long thin limbs existed in contrast with Sofia’s rounded features and her sun-kissed gold and auburn hair juxtaposed nicely to Sofia’s long black mane. She returned to her seat, nightshirt pulled up to her midriff and parted her narrow olive thighs revealing a third possibility for what the female sex may in fact look like. Much like Yasmin herself, Yasmin’s pussy was long and elegant, punctuated with folds that when splayed open might resemble butterfly wings. Feathery hair appeared to be lightly dusted over her untrimmed mound and was far sparser than Sofia’s young bush offering a virtually unobstructed view of Yasmin’s slick teen opening.
Beginning to truly grasp just how different all women could be, Sofia relaxed, the euphoric feeling of earlier returning to her innocent body, and let her legs open wider, her sticky lips separating again below the thicket of hair. As had been the case all evening, Yasmin followed Sofia’s lead and spread her lean lower limbs as well.
Sofia spoke first.
“Can I touch it?” she inquired with a new sense of confidence.
After a hesitant pause, Yasmin delivered a quivering, “yes” along with a gentle nod of the head. Tentatively, Sofia extended her toned bronze arm towards Yasmin’s fragile virgin box. Yasmin held her breath in anticipation and when Sofia’s delicate fingers finally, made contact, Yasmin released an audible sigh. Palm up, the tip of Sofia’s middle finger ran a deliberate course along the longitudinal span of Yasmin’s longer lips forcing them to part as she worked her way from the base to the tiny clitoris poking out from under it’s hood. Sofia’s finger glided easily between the wet folds and she relished in the tactile sensation of feeling her best friend. She repeated the motion, creating a steady rhythm, moving her finger in elegant brush strokes. Yasmin’s breathing increased and she began purring softly, enjoying the unfamiliar sensations caused by the caresses.
“Mmmmm,” she cooed. “That feels so nice. I want to touch you too,” she added as her words trailed off into another soft moan.
Sitting virtually knee to knee now on separate desk chairs, Sofia reached down with her free hand to spread her own dewy folds, inviting Yasmin’s reciprocal touch. Yasmin reached across, still reveling in Sofia’s efforts, and simultaneously allowed her own slender digit to explore her friend’s wet opening. Both girls explored each other with eagerness allowing their fingers to trace the geography of one another’s folds and crevices. They experimented, looking for reactions, letting a finger burrow into the warm recesses one moment, massaging each other’s tiny fleshy buttons the next.
It was Sofia who first felt the sensations escalating to a new level as Yasmin’s fingertip circled Sofia’s extended clit faster and faster. “Yesss… right there…” She purred. “Please don’t stop. Keep doing that.” Yasmin continued her ministrations and Sofia mirrored her motions helping the other girl reach similar heightened sensations. Both girls were now breathing heavily, eyes closed, legs spread wantonly as the continued to learn what their young bodies were capable of. Each new sensation bringing increased the pleasure and sensitivity.
Sofia’s long deep breaths were replaced with short fast intakes interspersed with repeated encouragements and she felt her body tighten up. A rush came over her and she let out a primal squeal, squeezing her legs tight around Yasmin’s hand, holding it against her twitching sex. Yasmin felt a flood of warm liquid bathe her captured appendage as Sophia bucked and writhed.
Much to her credit Sofia’s fingers never stopped working. With one finger now buried inside her friend’s greedy opening another continued to work her fleshy pearl. In contrast to Sofia’s squeal, Yasmin let out low, guttural moan as the velvety walls of her young pussy clamped down on Sofia’s finger leaving a thick, white residue as evidence of her orgasm.
After brief pause, both girls looked up at each other, their eyes locked, and simultaneously they both began to giggle uncontrollably.
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Over the next several years the girls continued to explore the capabilities of one another’s bodies. They developed a deep trust that allowed them to try new things, whatever their active imaginations could think up or replicating whatever they could find on Yasmin’s computer. They discovered the nuances and subtleties of their distinct tastes, touches, and inclinations. As skilled and practiced as they became with one another, neither girl had yet had the opportunity to be with a man. Their strict religious lifestyle allowed them all the opportunities in the world to be with each other, but virtually no time in the presence of the opposite sex. The wonder and excitement they each felt, thinking and talking about what it might feel like to be filled with a man’s thick cock began to dominate their conversations. Both girls fantasized about what it would feel like to be rammed repeatedly by a strong man or to wrap their mouths around someone’s rigid, veiny member, to take a man in their throats, to taste his seed. Alas, the girls were going to have to wait, their adolescent existence providing no opportunities to explore their wildest fantasies in the flesh.
It comes as no surprise then that when Sofia finally turned 18, she quickly left the strict confines of her parent’s oppressive rule and moved into a small flat in the young trendy neighborhood of El Raval. There she practiced her sketching by day, quickly realizing she was adept at coming up with creative clothing designs. She finally had a chance to nurture the talent her parent’s forced her to neglect for so long. By night, she worked in one of the hip bars that dot the area, finding a group like minded, artistic friends.
One night, after a long shift, Sofia found herself sitting amongst friends enjoying a lively conversation over bottles of Sidra. She knew most of the faces and names in the convivial group, but there was one unfamiliar face she couldn’t take her eyes off of.
Joaquim, was older, in his early 30’s, with the appearance of a well travelled vagabond filled with worldly experiences. His dark narrow eyes, permanent scruff, and disheveled hair heightened his mysterious air and was further complimented by his uniform of a dark, loose, partially buttoned shirts well worn slim fitting jeans, and distressed boots. His persona oozed sexual confidence, and his charm and ease with conversation backed up that characteristic. He too was a painter, his work hanging in galleries from New York, to London, to Tokyo. And most importantly, on that night at that bar, over numerous bottles of Sidra, he was drawn to the young face sitting across the table.
As nighttime slipped into morning, the group of friends dispersed, admitting defeat to the new day’s sun. Only two remained at the abandoned table, Sofia and Joaquim.
“So, I suppose you need to go home now, no?” Joaquim offered while effortlessly rolling a cigarette, his strong fingers working delicately, the remark existing somewhere between a question and a challenge. Although he had been drinking all night, there was no hint of it in his already gravely voice. He brought the cigarette to his lips, lighting it with match from the booklet left on the table and waited for a response. When Sofia hesitated, he was quick to continue: “C’mon, I know a place to get a cup of coffee and the fluffiest tortilla you’ve ever tasted. Let’s go.”
Sofia followed him through the hot narrow streets, which were beginning to sizzle in the morning summer sun, tired but excited for the possibility, listening as he talked, he regaled her with tales of his travels. There was something magnetic about Joaquim and although they had just met, at that moment, she would have followed him anywhere. However, when they arrived at the narrow doorway on a back street, Sofia was a bit surprised.
“Wait, where are we?” she asked when she finally did speak. She has been listening so intently, enraptured by his voice, that she hadn’t actually said anything in several minutes.
“We’re here,” he replied with a Hemmingway like succinctness as he opened the door and walked up the steps. Sofia stood there confused wondering what she had gotten herself into, but her natural curiosity paired with her animalistic attraction to her new companion got the better of her. And, so when Joaquim impatiently asked, “Are you coming?” Sofia just smiled and scurried up the steps.
The pair passed through a heavy set of wooden doors at the top of the steps and stepped into a large, sparsely decorated apartment. The room itself was old and elegant, many of the original moldings and features kept in tact hearkening back to a time when architecture was art and builders we true artisans. The white walls were mostly undecorated in the traditional sense, but countless canvasses in all sates of completion were propped up against them—a visual insight into Joaquim’s process as an artist. Furniture, mostly comprised of antiques in various states of disrepair, paint splattered and threadbare, was arranged haphazardly, scattered throughout the great room, mostly functioning as a place for Joaquim to toss his worn shirts.
“I thought you said we were going to get breakfast?’
“We are,” he answered as he led Sofia to the kitchen. “I promised you coffee and the fluffiest tortilla you’ve ever had, did I not?” he continued, not waiting for a response adding, “So, I will make it for you.”
Sofia watched Joaquim work, cracking eggs, chopping vegetables, peeling and boiling potatoes. He was confidant in his motions, and seemed to barely be paying attention to what he was doing. His effortless skills allowed him to maintain conversation with Sofia, talking to her about art, praising some contemporaries, diminishing others, offering opinions and criticisms with a charming sense of arrogance that only a slightly narcissistic artist could get away with. And, Sofia was mesmerized. She lapped up every word.
He slid the dish in the oven, “Let’s go sit on the couch, we have to wait 30 minutes before we can eat. Besides, I want to make sure you’ve really worked up an appetite.”
They entered the adjacent room and found a seat on a sofa that was in relatively decent shape. Joaquim took this opportunity to learn more about Sofia, simultaneously allowing her the opportunity to speak and proving he wasn’t completely self-obsessed. Sofia began to come out of her shell. Below Joaquim’s coarse exterior she found an empathetic listener and it wasn’t long before she was telling him all about her repressed upbringing, her dreams to create art, and even a little bit about her good friend, Yasmin. Perhaps the countless drinks she had consumed throughout the night had skewed her judgment, or, maybe it was this new power dynamic she was experiencing—afterall, she had become quite adept at using her sharp mind and sexuality to control situations, while here she was infatuated with the man in front of her, unable to manipulate in the way she had become accustomed—but she felt that she could open up to Joaquim. Within 15 minutes she had revealed that she had never been with a man.
“Never?” Joaquim parroted with an arch of the eyebrow.
“Never,” she echoed.
Although not sure who had actually moved, somehow they found themselves sitting closer to one another than they had realized as if there was gravitational force at work. Joaquim reached his hand and brushed Sofia’s soft cheek. His hand was strong and rough, slightly calloused from his work, but as he had demonstrated when first rolling the cigarette and then again in the kitchen, delicate and nimble when needed. The tiny hair on Sofia’s arms stood up from his electric touch and she reached up placing her soft supple hand over his, holding him there wanting to prolong the sensation. Their eyes closed and their lips met. The sharp whiskers of his thick stubble pushed against her face, the sandpaper texture causing some pain initially, but reminding Sofia of her partner’s masculinity. The acrid remnants of tobacco and alcohol lingered on his breath as their tongues explored each other’s mouths and Sofia inhaled his deep musky scent. She too, still tasted of alcohol, but somehow her breath seemed sweet to Joaquim.
A fire started burning in Sofia’s body and she could feel juices beginning to accumulate on the lips of her young pussy. In that moment she knew more than anything she had ever known before, exactly what she wanted. She broke the kiss and pulled back allowing her space to lift the flimsy tank top she had been wearing over her head. Her gravity defying breasts sprang free with gentle bounce from their cotton confines, erect nipples pointing ever so slightly upwards. Joaquim momentarily marveled at her perfection, soaking in the vision before him, finally cupping her breast in his hand and drawing the nipple into his salacious mouth. Ever so gently, he rolled the hard nipple around with this tongue, lightly applying pressure with his lips.
Without warning, Joaquim grabbed Sofia by the waist, lifting her so that she could sit on his lap, her long denim clad legs straddling him as he continued to patiently and purposefully explore her breast with both mouth and hands. Sofia tilted her head back, reveling in his touch, her hands in his tousled hair. She could feel Joaquim’s cock growing in his jeans so she began to grind against it. She rocked and gyrated, allowing the silky fabric of her panties to rub back and for the over her clit. Joaquim continued fondling her impossible globes as his cock twitched under her movements sandwiched between his button fly and stomach.
She couldn’t take it anymore, she had to see it, she had to touch it, she needed it. She slid down Joaqium’s body planting kisses along his hairy chest and down over his stomach. Her hand went to his fly, first resting on his lap, feeling his size through his jeans. She teasingly clenched her hand around the outline of his manhood noticing the warmth through the fabric. She moved her hand up and down over the bulge and Joaquim squirmed slightly from her touch. Mercifully, she began to undo the buttons on his fly, one by one until his stiff cock could spring free, offering the opportunity for a sigh of relief to escape his lips. Sofia slid his pants down while admiring the real life hard cock just inches from her face. She stared at it taking in its size and features. It was not as long as the ones she had seen pictures of, but appeared to be as wide, if not wider, the head hidden within the folds of what Sofia would later learn to be foreskin.
“Go ahead, beautiful,” he encouraged. “Touch it.”
Sofia reached forward and let her finger wrap around the mighty girth in front of her. My god he was thick. She could barely get her hand around the base.
“Now stroke it, move your hand up and down. That’s right….mmmmm….just like that.”
Sofia obediently followed his instructions, enamored with the appendage she was grasping. As she stroked , the foreskin pulled back revealing the large spongy head already glistening with his clear precum. Her pussy once again flooded at the sight, panties soaked inside her tight jeans. Subconsciously, she licked her lips.
“Do you want to taste it?”
Sofia nodded in affirmation still moving her hand up and down his length. Then, sticking her tongue out she leaned in and let the tip make contact with the tiny pool of precum collecting by Joaquim’s urethra. It was salty, but sweet and immediately she wanted more. Holding his massive member in one hand she licked up and down the span, stopping at the head to collect whatever fluid appeared between strokes. “Mmmmm,” she hummed demonstrating she was enjoying the taste finally getting the answer to one of her teenage ponderings.
“Now, take it in your mouth”
A conflicting mixture of eagerness and nervousness overtook Sofia. She wanted to feel her lips wrap around his hardness, but she couldn’t fathom fitting the preposterous circumference in her mouth. But, this is what she had been fantasizing about, what she had been thinking about all those nights when she and Yasmin were alone in that big house, touching themselves.
She pulled back the foreskin, once again exposing his large sensitive head and then opened her jaw wide imagining she must look like a snake about to consume it’s pray that she had once seen in a documentary. She managed to get her mouth around the bulbous head, letting is rest on her tongue as she breathed through her nose. The ridges of her tongue moved against the delicate underside making Joaquim groan in pleasure.
“That’s a good girl…. Now deeper. Can you take more?”
Sofia’s pussy was pulsating now, her panties drenched, she could feel the wetness spreading towards her jeans. Something she had never felt before took over, she wanted nothing more than to please this man. Sofia took a deep breath and slowly began to lower her head further and further down Joaquim’s shaft, stretching and filling her mouth more than she thought possible before finally gagging. The action forced her to relinquish his slobbery cock and she puled away rapidly, eyes filled with water, saliva on her face.
“That’s ok, you will learn,” he smiled back.
At that moment, the timer in the kitchen beeped. “Oh fuck,” laughed Joaquim, his hard cock still standing tall covered in Sofia’s spit. “The tortilla! I completely forgot!”
Naked, Joaquim rose to his feet, Sofia still sitting on the floor at the foot of the sofa, and hurried off to the kitchen. After a few moments he returned, his fat cock now hanging soft, holding two plates with what as promised looked like the fluffiest tortilla Sofia had ever seen. However, at that moment, Sofia had absolutely no interest in the expertly crafted breakfast in front of her, which became abundantly clear to Joaquim who had come to sudden stop upon returning. There, he took in the view of Sofia laying back on the couch, fully undressed, knees up and legs apart, with two of her fingers methodically rubbing her extremely wet pussy.
“I’m sorry,” she teased. “But, I just couldn’t wait. I want to feel you inside me so bad. I’ve been wanting this for so long. I’m ready”
Joaquim dropped the plates, ignoring the cacophonous crash that echoed through the cavernous apartment, rushed over stroking his cock back to life, eyes transfixed on the wanton vision. Although Joaquim had had his share of women, this felt different. This young woman was sex incarnate, every inch of her body made to give and receive pleasure. How could a woman whose every pore radiated sexuality have never been with a man? At that moment he knew he would never want to let her go.
“Fuck me Joaquim. I want you to be my first.”
Joaquim didn’t need any more encouragement and as he arrived he lowered his naked body, propping himself up on his elbows, allowing his hand to rummage through the long disheveled strands of Sofia’s straight black hair, pressing his face to hers, and he began to kiss Sofia with a fervor he had never experienced before. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. She needed to feel his pulsating girth inside her and he needed to feel her tight, wet walls dilate and constrict around him. With one hand, he reached down to guide his swollen head towards Sofia’s dripping entrance. He rested his head against her splayed lips before applying a gentle amount of pressure allowing the head slip inside her.
“Ahhh,” cried Sophia. This wasn’t the first time she had felt something inside of her—both she and Yasmin had explored the depths of her teenage womanhood with their small feminine fingers, but now, with just the head, Joaquim barely inside her, she had never felt this full before.
“I won’t hurt you, I promise, “Jaoquim sputtered in broken pieces between kisses, removing himself from her just as slowly as he had entered, her lips clinging to him not wanting to relinquish their vice grip. Sofia immediately felt an emptiness that could only be understood in diametric opposition to the fullness she had felt just seconds earlier. Joaquim sensed her yearning and again pushed his expansive head past her petals this time allowing himself to sink in a bit further, stretching Sofia wider than she thought possible. He held his position, allowing Sofia to dilate and adjust in order to accommodate him. Again he slowly withdrew and again Sofia clamped down refusing to feel empty. Joaquim’s cock was now slick with Sofia’s abundant secretions and he only waited a second before easing himself back in, mustering all the patience and self-control he could manage not to jam himself in with one forceful stroke. They repeated this dance several more times until finally, after what felt like a lifetime, Joaquim was able to rest his entire length inside of Sofia’s virgin tunnel.
Now entirely full, Sofia’s walls clenched down on Joaquim’s invader, an uncontrollable rush taking over her young body. She convulsed around him as wave after wave radiated from the point where the two lovers were connected, her breath short and fast as she experienced her first orgasm of the night without even moving.
He held there, kissing Sofia, letting her regain whatever little composure she was capable of at this point, before slowly gyrating his hips and grinding his pelvis against her sensitive button. Sofia appreciated her gentle lover and moaned against his kisses approvingly. Continuing his circular motions, Joaquim began to pull back from Sofia, adding a subtle in and out movement to grinding. Each stroke allowed Joaquim to pull back more and more, his cock gleaming with her endless flow of fluids. Before long he was rhythmically working his entirety, allowing just the head to remain before diving back in to grind against her again. His strokes were long and disciplined, forceful in their apparent passion but never jagged or rough.
Never fully recovering from the initial earthquake of her first orgasm, Sofia’s body was overcome with tremor after tremor as she allowed Joaquim to enter her again and again. Her spasms rode his rhythms, their bodies in concert, her mind disassociating from her body.
Nestled deep inside of her, Joaquim used his strong hands to adjust their position. He sat up, legs in front of him while Sofia’s legs wrapped around his lean torso. His hands perfectly encapsulated the curvature of her backside and he began to push and pull Sofia back and forth. Sofia lunged forward, throwing her arms around him for support as her breasts pressed again him, sandwiched between their sweaty bodies. He rocked her more forcefully now encouraged by the feel of her skin against his.
Joaquim could feel the familiar tightening coming on. He knew he was firmly in control and although right on the brink of eruption, he didn’t want to release his seed quite yet. Sofia seemed to be reaching the peak of another wave and he wanted to let it crash over her.
“Oh my god… fuckkk…. Yesss…. Yesss… YESSSSSSSS!” Sofia’s body jerked as she completely lost control, overcome by the intensity of her orgasm.
Now was Joaquim’s moment. He lifted Sofia off his impaling member, her sex still twitching and quivering with the spasms of her powerful orgasm, and released a furious torrent of cum in the air. Spurt after spurt splashing on the two entangled lovers, the painter now being painted.
Once again, their lips found one another, this time replacing the animalistic fervor with gentle passion.
“Thank you for not cumming inside me,” Sofia whispered acknowledging Joaquim’s ability to maintain his wherewithal during such a heated moment. “And thank you for being you,” she added before the two collapsed into a sweaty heap to enjoy a well deserved rest.
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For the next six years Joaquim and Sofia continued their torrid relationship constantly exploring not only one another’s bodies, but one another’s psychologies as well. They learned how to please each other, pushing each other’s boundaries, continually expanding their repertoire of techniques and predilections. However, as with many artists, the couple fought as passionately as the fucked, sometimes leading to long separations that inevitably led to incredible make up sex. And, although at some point in the relationship Joaquim had proposed to Sofia, as time passed the fights became more frequent. Of course they still loved each other, but when Sofia, who truly believed she and Joaquim would eventually be together forever, but who also had never left Europe, was offered a position in a PhD program in New York, she couldn’t pass it up.