Got the job, got some Mr OMG. I rock

I’m off to a company in the industry I was previously employed in. Work is work so I won’t dwell on the specifics, but from a sexual perspective, I’ve noticed that the office is much nearer the parks I’ve inhabited in the past so there’ll be more opportunity for outdoor games after work when my mojo returns.

Another question I had in the back of my mind was if I’d eventually share my relationship status with my new peer group and stop living with so much secrecy. I was leaning towards the positive but one of the directors is married to someone I’ve known for years — she’s a dear friend who is conservative in these things so I’ll probably keep up the tangle of lies to answer the “How was your weekend?” question with stories of people who aren’t really friends and parties that don’t involve lubricant and being tied up. My loss of girlfriend count following a confession is two from two and seems sign enough that my worlds shouldn’t collide.

My attitude and desire levels between the last few weeks of This might be a good idea but probably won’t be and last night’s I may well die if I don’t get his cock inside me are so markedly different that it’s as if I’m two unrelated people. Mr OMG elicited the latter. We were talking about meeting the day before but I was only half-committed from lethargy and feeling selfish that it was the night he had only an hour free. I wanted more. The following night we again vaguely agreed to him dropping by on his way home from a job on the other side of the city but I wasn’t sure if I’d still be up or if he’d have energy after a long day in the sun — we’ve had an unseasonal heatwave that’s drained the lifeblood from almost everything.

It was late and I got ready for bed. A cool change had swept in and I was lounging happily on top of the bedsheets with the front door open, allowing the icy breeze to tickle my skin. Mr OMG sent the text message I was expecting, saying he was exhausted and heading straight home, as much as he wanted to play. I was somewhat relieved to not have to disturb my sense of idle content before going to sleep.

A pang of lust took over my thoughts before I could respond though, and I replied with a snapshot of my hand between my legs with the message I understand, and I’ll be shaved off and wet again for you next time. Goodnight. He called. Quickly. I didn’t expect that reaction because he was as tired as I was. He asked if I was naked. My building libido took over the conversation and I replied that I was as naked as the photo except for some new drops of wetness between my legs. I then backtracked and apologised for teasing and said we’d catch up soon, much as I wanted his cock in my mouth (which wasn’t a backtrack at all, really). He said he only had 20 minutes but could swing past as he was coming through my part of town. I responded reluctantly that we should wait for another time so we can indulge in more than a quick taste. He said let’s taste now, feast another time and what’s the address?

I was still naked when I heard his footsteps nearing along the path and I poked my head around the door and asked him to come in. I think I grabbed his shirt and dragged him into the bedroom because there’s no other explanation for how he got there so quickly. His t-shirt was over his head before our lips met for the first time. I reached to grasp his backside and realised gleefully he’d already sent his shorts and shoes to the floor.

He laid me back on the bed covers and did angelic things with his tongue and fingers and after a few minutes said he needed to fuck me. I reached to embrace the approaching outline of his torso, but changed my mind and said I originally wanted his cock in my mouth and that’s what I was going to do. He stood and I lowered my mouth around his erection and somehow took most of it in the first journey down and held him inside until he groaned. I only got about 10 strokes in when he insisted he had to be inside me. I didn’t argue this time.

He started with three-quarter thrusts that worked my g-spot but I needed to devour all of him and I tilted my hips forward to take the lot. My muscles involuntarily clenched around his cock each time he filled me, as if knowing he wasn’t going to last long and to make the most of every millimetre. Between gasping and trying to express how fucking good he felt, I saw in the reflected light that he had a tattoo I hadn’t noticed before and the dirtied innocence of his face reminded me of the Jason Stackhouse character in the True Blood series. These new snippets of him further increased my raging appetite.

He came much sooner than I wanted but any period of time was not going to be enough. However, I was beyond relieved to have found deep and unstoppable surges of desire and feeling again. The ones who drive me mad also bring out my most inspired behaviour, much as I don’t think I want my lust to exist that way. He needs to visit again soon.