I have lost a handful of kilograms since Christmas, added some new sheets of muscle to my frame and lost fat that is mainly evident by the emerging hollows of my shoulders and belly. I’ve thought little about my appearance while naked as I haven’t reached my first review goal, but when I was on my back with my spine curled into the softness of an oversized lounge suite, the harsh rays of afternoon sun almost x-rayed the weaknesses of my form: a few (not unpleasant) silvery mackerel-like stretch marks glittered on my hips, and the remaining fatty tissue on my belly and upper thighs seemed to compress and shout its presence. I realised I had a way to go with undoing some dietary damage from last year and hoped the man above me wasn’t being as critical of my body as I was.
Something twigged in my mind that I was naked on a reception area lounge inside an office and the sun shouldn’t have been so bright on my skin. I raised my head and saw he hadn’t closed the vertical blinds that afforded privacy from the street; his business is located in a quiet area and I thought that if he didn’t mind, I shouldn’t, as all a passer-by would have seen of me was my bottom and backs of my legs.
We had met for a quick drink in a cafe near both our workplaces. He has another life that he was vague about and the age on his profile was incorrect by about a decade but he came across as having his life sorted out. He said his staff finished early every day and we could use his office after work — he gave me directions in case I lost him in traffic and I found the building easily enough considering it was almost embarrassingly close to my workplace. I thought that this could work out into quite a civilised arrangement if things went well. I liked him enough to tolerate the amount of lily he’d gilded; and he wasn’t as attractive as he perceived himself through our conversations, but there was enough of a physical bond for me to want to take him for a spin and see what happened.
He kneeled on the floor and paid attention to my nipples with his tongue while I was assessing my body and looking through the vertical blinds. He kissed deeply and slowly — I think I’d return purely for more of these oral treasures. His fingers entering my warm place were probably what cleared my mind of wandering thoughts and relaxed me into wanting this, wanting him, wanting however this would end up. I brushed my fingers along his cock and massaged his balls gently until he asked urgently where I had packed the condoms. I got up and fetched them myself rather than risk him losing the mood and perfect right-angle erection while scratching about in my viper’s nest of a handbag.
He took the condom from me and his thick labourer’s fingers struggled with the packaging. I rolled his cock around in my mouth while I waited and he lost the sense of urgency with the wrapper for a couple of minutes. He is a smoker but didn’t smell or taste as sour as Army Dude and I was thankful.
We had reached the moment of deciding which position to start in for two new lovers. I think my preference is man on top for the most classic feeling of being penetrated to build on but he suggested that perhaps I’d like to start on top. The lounge was bouncy and I wasn’t sure how successful we’d be, but I sat him back and kneeled on his lap while finding an angle from which to lower myself. I pulled his hips forward and sank into him, holding myself at the bottom as he filled me. I felt a little greedy maintaining the static position and clamped my muscles around his cock as I enjoyed the feeling of him inside me.
There wasn’t enough support in the furniture to bounce energetically but I found a good rhythm by pushing off the head cushions and pulling myself back up. He held my buttocks and pulled me into him on the downstroke. After a while I was still feeling good but starting to lose concentration because I knew him laying straight on his back and me sitting upright would send me senseless but wasn’t going to be possible in this setting. We agreed for him to get on top and I laid along the couch again. He probably had the same comfort problem as me with his knees sinking into the cushions but we found most pleasure with my legs resting on his shoulders and I came in a small avalanche of orgasms. I don’t know what’s going on with my g-spot, but over the past few months it’s like something has unlocked and release comes more easily than in the past. I’m not complaining.
He shifted my legs down and laid on top of me and we kissed and fucked until I felt him shift a gear and his movements became more frantic. He came and we sat around naked on his lounge until we had to dress.
I’m unsure how he interpreted my goodbye of commenting how relaxing everything was. ‘Relaxing’ could be perceived as an insult, however, I couldn’t think of a higher compliment to reflect my being able to switch my mind off and slide into a new situation so smoothly.