Making Lemonade

The boy was enthusiastic. He'd clearly done this before, and, unlike so many men who would slurp a bit before wheedling for a blow job, he kept at it! His tongue and lips both busily explored round my clit and around all those interesting folds women have.

He was as up for it as a woman.Nice. There was one brief moment when my clit got sucked a bit hard and I winced, but then he settled to a good level. I made sure to make encouraging noises.

He responded to the feedback. One gasp of "No! What you were doing before!" got him focused on a really good point. So it didn't take too long before I rubbed myself over his face, moaning, while he gripped my thighs to keep my movements under control.

"Oh! Yes! Yes!"

He hung on. He kept his mouth right where it was going good.

Great stuff. A generous lover, applying a fair bit of skill.

He hung on to me when I jerked in pleasure. But as I yelled for a deity, he shifted. Instead of eating me out, he switched to giving me lots of kisses, up and down my legs and body.

It wasn't unpleasant. Just a huge let-down from the excellent cunnilingus.

"You bastard!" I shouted. "Get yer face back in there!"

Steve tried to look innocent. It was a failure. "Oh, you liked that, did you? Well. In that case. If you ask nicely and are sure you want it..."

"You bastard."

"Hm?" He put a finger inside me. It was even better than his tongue -- but I wanted his face...

Figuring I had no pride, I admitted it. "Please? Suck my clit again? Eat me out?"

"Oh. Good, was it?"

He lowered his face to nuzzle my soft inner thigh, bending that finger.

"So good," I gasped.

Thank all the gods, he returned to munching my cunt. Firm, determined, sucking and licking round my clit and its neighbourhood, holding me tight so I couldn't slip nor squirm away.

I knew he'd get big-headed, but fuck, the man deserved it, me mashing my sticky pussy against his nose. "God! So good! You're so good. Please! More! Please!" My compliments merged into incoherent babble.

Flattering babble, mixed with the moans of me having a really obvious orgasm.

Steve held me close through it, then sat up, looking deservedly pleased with himself, when my body calmed down.

I was naked. He still had his formal trousers on. I liked his chest, and stroked his hair with one finger.

He smiled at me. Then, not just to rub my juices off his face, he kissed up my thighs again. His fondling became an all-over massage. He particularly enjoyed squeezing my bum.

I lay there and appreciated it all. The all-over attention reminded me of my ex, in a good way, loving me in a way only women normally did.

Although when Steve snuggled down with me again, his focus on my breasts was definitely male. I may be a bit short, but I'm curvy. Big tits, big arse, so far still a small waist in between. "You're gorgeous," he told me.

"You're not so bad yourself, mate. Go on, let me see those lovely long legs of yours."

He grimaced, so I sat up to undo his belt buckle. It slid out of the loops, its end thwapping the mattress.

"Not tonight, pet," he murmured. A joke, or mere fact?

"Ooh, kinky. No, not tonight. I'm drunk, you're drunk..."

"Mm. Let's not get into anything what might be a rather bad idea." At least we agreed on that.

"Uh-huh. I'll just get into your pants, then." I started unbuttoning his trousers.

"Oi! I'm supposed to have the terrible lines! Male prerogative, that is."

"Sorry. Your turn, then."

"Er. 'Do you come here often?'" He smirked as he used the worst chat-up line in history.

"I certainly hope so!" If I managed another orgasm, this would be a truly excellent night.

My bad pun broke any remaining tension between us. Steve was my friend, a sweet guy, and we were going to enjoy a good sexy night. Once we both stopped giggling, anyhow.

Which took a while. I was still sniggering when I finally pushed his chinos down his legs. But then I was distracted by his rather fine thighs, which demanded I focus on them. Very long, lean muscles. Smooth in that manly mildly-furry way. Really good to grope, grand pieces of male flesh under his jersey shorts. Really nice.

I was drunk, and loving his legs. Which I told him.

He grinned as I enthusiastically manhandled his thighs and his still-obscured buttocks. I supposed it was a fine signal that yes, I really liked his body.

Steve wrapped an arm round my back and explored all over my upper body with his other careful hand. Again, he liked the exploration and what reactions he might find. Not just diving straight at my nipples and pussy. He was definitely different from my ex, though, which was a huge relief.

Apart from Steve being six-three to her five-eight, making his head and hands further apart than hers, she'd been a woman. Squishy in more areas. Curves on her adorable bum. Rounded tummy, wonderful round breasts, full cheeks and pouty lips. Musical voice and wicked sense of humour. And a burning desire to go live abroad for the next few years, whether I was with her or not. I sighed, and forced myself to focus on what I did have, in the moment.

Steve's warm manly body. Lanky legs firm with muscle, just a layer of squeezable flesh on his tree-trunk thighs. Firm arse in his black shorts. Solid back, strong arms, the faintest bristle on his evening-shaved face. Scent of sweat and aftershave. Very male, sexy as hell. Yes, I was still attracted to male bodies, clearly.

Just as well. It would be horribly rude to get to this point and find actually, I wanted to just go to sleep without any entertainment from his person first. Or giving him pleasure, more to the point. I'd had mine already!

So I tugged down his underpants.

His arse was stunning. I couldn't resist molesting it. While my hands were in heaven, I admired his substantial ball sack, nuzzling it. I expected that would wake up his neat soft cock nestled in it.

It did. Only, like an ancient Greek statue, pointing upwards and becoming hard didn't make it any bigger. I recalled the Greeks associated big cocks with animals, and preferred to sculpt neat, 'refined' penises.

Steve's cock was certainly sophisticated by that standard. It was larger than my thumb, but possibly not bigger than his. I wondered what the Greeks thought of cocks for sex, when they weren't aiming for art.

"I know, it's disappointing. You don't look shocked. Someone told you?" Steve's voice aimed for calm, but wobbled slightly.

The poor love. "Yes, I was warned. But, theyalso said, you were worth it anyway. I agree, by the way. You're a lovely lover." I kissed him.

"Aw, thanks pet. I knew I liked you."

"You've done well, not to get a complex over it. Like, you know, 'short man syndrome'..."

Steve laughed, ruefully. "Thank my Nan."

"Youwhat?"

"Middle of secondary, I got picked on a bit. Eh, a lot. I was a lot shorter, then. Some lads laughed at me in the changing rooms. You know the kind of thing. Being a teenager, it was shit. Anyhow, I was visiting my granny for the weekend, must have looked morose, and she asked what I was being bullied about.

"I can't remember what I said, but I know I ended, 'andthey laugh at my tiny dick! How will I ever get a girlfriend?'

"Nan, bless her, cackled herself half to death. 'No-one ever got a girlfriend by waving their todger about, did they Stephen? No, they didn't, bor. You gets a girlfriend by being clean and smart and listening to girls and treating them like people, that's what. That keeps 'em, too. You trust Nanna on that. You be a decent young man. Then, if she ever gets as far as inside your trousers -- and that had better not be until you's a good mite older, you hear me? -- then your job is to make her happy.

"'Now, if you've read any of those magazines girls read these days, Cozzimopitan and the like, you'll be in the know; girls need foreplay and they needs attention all over and on their sweet spot. Remember the rest of their bodies, don't forget they have feelings all over, don't just hone in on the naughty bits! Ask what a bad lover is, and it's a chap who just does the old in-out, just doing it for himself.

"So, you see, size don't matter, to her. A big tongue would be better than a big you-know-what, mostly, and that's all I'm telling you aboutthat!' She rubbed her fingers together in this totally filthy way...

"Nan goes on, 'Now, I hear a man can get just as satisfied by a woman -- or by his hand -- no matter what size or shape his schlong is. So, what are you worried about? It's not like a Mr World modelling competition, you know. Not that I approve of them such things. Just encourage vanity, they do. You stop worrying about your looks, and become a good man as the Lord intended, and you'll be the happier for it. Now, get on with your homework!'

"She's a right old battle-axe, Nan," Steve concluded.

"She sounds fabulous! If also terrifying."

"That's spot on! Anyhow, I tried to follow her advice."

"And you've always done all right with the girls. Result!" Steve had hardly ever been single in the years I'd known him. It was basically why we'd never got it together before.

He shrugged. "Not so bad, I suppose."

"Let's boost tonight above 'not bad', eh?" I took his cock in my hand -- in my fingers, really. It perked up, oddly cute, in the way anything smaller than normal looks adorable. On the plus side, it wouldn't strain my mouth, right?

I shuffled down the bed, rested my face on his lovely solid fuzzy thigh, and began to suck his cock.

Very comfortable, not having to stretch my jaw at all. Not the same psychological effect as a big cock: always mentally knowing your mouth is being forced into and could be abused, which becomes hot or scary, depending on the guy in question.

It was fun, creating the desperate aroused expression of a man about to come, only without any straining of my face. Steve's appreciation convinced me his cock really was cute!

He spurted into my mouth, a similar quantity to any man. I swallowed down what I could, wiped the rest on my arm. Job done. Sometimes work is both easy and fun.

Steve grinned sleepily. "God, you're good." He snuggled alongside me.

"I aim to please. You were great, earlier."

"Thanks. I've tried to get good at that. Make up for..."

"Does in my book." I smiled at him.

"I suppose, if you're used to a woman..."

"Not just that," I contradicted. "Some queer woman still prefer the penetration, y'know. I mean, not like I don't..."

"Give me a minute. Or ten! If you want."

"I might." We both lay quietly for a bit, stroking each other's warm skin, nuzzling the other's hair.

"How are you doing, down in London?" he asked. "You were looking for a new job, last I spoke to you?"

"God, yes! Fortunately, got a new one -- about six months ago now. Just as well. Killing my ex-boss would have scuppered my chance of a decent reference!"

Steve chuckled. "What is it you're doing?"

I told him. He shared what he'd been up to, over the last year. "Iwas going to buy a house, only then we split up, so that's not going to be on the cards for a while."

"Tell me about it," I muttered with feeling. "Only probably not for years, given London house prices. Totally impossible for anyone single, nowadays." I sighed.

"Eh, you'll find someone new. When you're ready."

I nodded. I realised I really wasn't in any state for a relationship. Not yet. I wriggled round and enjoyed lying on Steve's shoulder. "Yeah. I know. In the meantime, about that casual sex?"

"Already? Yeah, OK. See if you can get me ready."

I wasn't expecting much, but even if sex was just a cosy cuddle with a bit of extra sensation, that would be nice, right?

He fit inside my curled fingers, no problem at all. It was remarkably little effort to get him firming up, twitching, then expanding as much as he was going to.

I let him put the condom on. I honestly wasn't sure how to make it stay in place! Steve covered his cock in lube, which struck me as over optimistic, but I was too polite to say. I opened my legs to welcome him, standard missionary-style.

Steve positioned himself. He did a few more of those great moves with his fingers, then pulled his hand away. "Ready?"

"Yup," I nodded. I mustn't let the poor guy know I was humouring him.

I felt the tip of his cock touch round my opening.

He rocked back and forth. It was like sex, only just teasing me, just under my clit.

I tried to squeeze his cock with my best pelvic floor exercises. If I could call him small, he could equally accuse me of being baggy, right? It didn't help that much. But the brief touches of my body to his tip were tantalising promises of fun.

I resigned myself to a few minutes of unexciting cuddles, and gave him my best benign smile.

He smiled back. His wriggling on top of me went on for a bit; then he shifted. Now, when he rubbed against me, he was almost -- but not quite -- hitting my clit. A glorious cunt-tease.

I arched myself up to try to rub the best spot against him. He shook his head. He held me in place, continuing the frustration. I barely felt him inside. Just little touches, going with that wonderful pressure that just wasn't quite where I could really do with it.

I'd had worse fucks. Several, actually. Steve's knowing attention on my clitoris, purposely teasing, was damn good. His cheeky smug grin proved he was enjoying himself, partly because of how he was making me feel.

A man who actually wants to turn you on is a pretty good turn-on, even before he does anything!

He circled his groin around where I wanted him, almost getting there. I groaned, mostly happily, totally forgetting about getting penetrated.

Then, suddenly, I felt my cunt getting dicked. Crude words, for a hard, dirty, feeling. He'd slipped his hands round me, one under my bum forcing me into a better angle, his fingers on the other pushing underneath his cock to press it against me, making the whole thing feel fatter.

It worked.

Damn, it worked! Who cares exactly what's in your pussy if it's filling you up, knuckles are rubbing a G-spot, and it feels so good?

Steve, the cocky bastard, knew that.

God, I'd allow him to be smug, given what he was doing. OK, it wasn'tquite the same as having my brains fucked out, but it was close. I'd encourage the guy. I moaned, panting. He thrust harder and faster, holding his hand and cock so it worked like the biggest cock I'd ever had.

Only that lad had been a pretty crap shag. A prime example of a great cock but no idea what to do with it. Meanwhile, Steve did all the facial contortion and gasps of a man reaching orgasm -- I wouldn't have known, otherwise -- and continued some thrusts, until both of our energies died.

I recovered my breath.

"Mm, that was nice!" I told him.

He caught my eye, suddenly nervous. "Thanks. I know it was disappointing for you."

The poor poppet! After what he'd done for me, I had to reassure him.

"It was nice cuddling you, after you'd worn me out already." I chuckled. "Besides, if a girl wanted that big cock feeling, you could always just buy one."

"Buy one?"

"Sex toys. I know women are fond of them, but don't say you've never thought about it."

A mischievous quiver of his lips. "Oh, you're right. I've thought about it, all right!" He clambered off the bed, to rummage in his holdall.

He held out two objects. "Size queen, or vibration?"

I grinned at him. "I knew you were a clever boy. You're making me choose?"

"Yeah. I'm harsh like that."

"Not willing to fill me upand use that vibrator on my clit?"

"Oh, maybe. Just, I was thinking of sucking youwhile you were filled up."

"That works, too. Course, you could do both."

"You're so greedy and demanding," he murmured, happily. I supposed, wanting fucking, but not rejecting him for the purpose, was his fantasy. He watched my face as he slid the hefty black-silicone cock inside me, bigger and stiffer than any man.

"Yeah. I've got high standards, sweetheart," I replied. "You need towork, to meet them."

"Challenge accepted," he assured me. "Turn over, and shut up." I moved so his big detached dick could fuck me doggy-style.

He pumped that thick heavy cock into me, strong and persistent. I got fucked, good and hard, until his arm grew tired.

Seeing as by then my moans -- and my body -- had long since collapsed from exhaustion, that was fine. The vibe was too much, I decided when he tested it. But his mouth over my clit again, bathing it in soothing spit, sucking it ever so gently after all the stimulation he'd given it this evening? That was heavenly...

"Ohhh..."

He lifted his face and smiled at me. Then lowered it again, knowing the effect he had on me with his mouth there between my legs.

He was rightfully proud of his ability to make a woman yell with pleasure. I didn't think I could, not again, but those strong hands, squeezing, pressing, pushing against that still-solid cock he'd left inside me...

I screamed. It's traditional to have noisy orgasms in a hotel, right?

As he let me recover, he held me close in his long strong arms, secure against his solid chest. A girl could get used to that.

"You're sure you want to stay living in Newcastle, love?" I had to ask.

"Fraid so, pet." We also already knew we'd never work as a couple, having dissected our personalities long into some sophomoric night, but who could blame me for wanting his body again?

He added, "Though I do come south for work, a couple times a year. In the unlikely event you're still single next time, let me know."

"A good relationship isn't that easy to find. Your chances are good, I might as well admit it." I giggled, seeing him rubbing his tired arm. "Besides, you should get a good harness and use that cock as a strap-on. Mm-hm!" I grabbed his arse and mimed, how I'd thrust up against him as he thrust into me with it.

"But... How does that work?" He was puzzled. "With my cock in the way? I know penis sleeves exist, but they look kind of tacky. And really, they're aimed at men who can't get it up -- at least that's one problem Idon't have..."

I snuggled down next to him and grabbed my phone, searching for a relevant picture. "No... no... no... Argh, I googled 'manwearing a strap-on', notgetting it from one! Though you'd look fabulous, getting a good pegging..."

"Only because I always look fabulous, darling. Not happening. Exit only, ta."

"No? Pictures of men getting pegged are clogging up the entire internet." I made my voice go deep and silky. "Tell me, Stephen. How could a billion men be wrong?"

"Stop it! You don't look anything like Kiefer Sutherland, either, which is just as well. I'm happy for them if they enjoy it, but no thanks." I showed him my phone. "Oh!Oh..."

I'd finally found a pic, from the waist down, of a guy wearing a black harness and an impressive magenta cock, while his own dick stuck out of a lower ring on the webbing.

Steve read out the blurb. "'Two comfortable straps go either side of your balls... fuck naturally with your new cock... may need a bit of practice to adjust your technique, but can even achieve double penetration, for her ultimate pleasure...' Wow, you're selling it to me! What do you think?"

"What?" I grabbed my phone back. "Really?"

"I don't know! I thought you were the expert!"

"I've slept with four guys in my entire life, love. Really, not. Never let any of them come near my arse." What some dirtygirls might have done with my bottom was a whole nother question, that Steve didn't need to know about.

Steve thought. "Of course, a smaller cock might be much better for a lady. If a lady were at all interested in trying that... Doyou like fingers or anything there?"

I blushed, trying not to think of the ex's fiendish little vibrator...