On My Knees Again [TheFellatioProject]

We had made plans to get together for the exchange. I text him to tell him I’d be there in 10 minutes. He was there waiting. I walked through the back door. He laughed as he watched me.

Why are you laughing? I ask.

Because you always run up to the door and you always look around with paranoia to make sure no one sees you.

I don’t remember what we said to each other as I followed him into the living room. It was dark and cool. I took off my coat, laying it across the sofa. He looked at what I was wearing. Oh love those fuzzy boots.

Do you really like them?

Babe, you know I have always liked boots.

This small talk was starting to get on my nerves. The falseness of it all. I knew I really didn’t want to be there any more than I had to. I was gonna sit down on the sofa, but I didn’t want to chit-chat with him like the so many times before. I just wanted to do what I had agreed on. I wasn’t giving him anything more.

He dropped himself on to the other sofa. I walked over to him, straddling him. Leaning in for a kiss. My mind goes into hyper drive. I can feel those urges build. I can feel my pussy begin to ache for him. NO!

Oh God. I missed his kisses. When he kisses me, my mind becomes empty. I am one in the moment.  Tipsy from the taste of his lips. I’m drunk with lust. I can’t control myself. We kiss so intensely as if we will devour each other’s soul. I regain my senses. Time for me to get to work. Still sitting on him, I look into his eyes.

Tell me, did you miss me? Did you miss my lips? Did you miss my touch?

He smiles at me, kissing my cheeks, kissing my neck. His fingers run through my hair. Pulling a few strands out of my face and mouth.

Yes I missed you. I missed you this much. (as he stretches his arms out)

Did you miss me sucking your cock? Did you think about me after you left? 

In between kisses, he answers me.

I thought about you all the time. I thought how good you feel. I missed the taste of you. I missed smelling you on my clothes. I missed spanking your ass and pulling your hair. I just want you back into my life. 

I smiled at him. Thinking to myself, this is all bullshit. I decided I’d better hurry, the clock is ticking. I slide slowly down his body. I kneel. Unbuckling his pants, unzipping them, sliding them down. He didn’t take them off all the way. I pulled his limp dick out of his pants. I enjoy the feel of a limp cock in my mouth as it slowly becomes harder. He was so relaxed. I think too relaxed. I sucked his flaccid cock. I was hoping that this wouldn’t take long. At first I was into the act. Somewhere, I lost my train of thought. Somewhere, I just forgot what I was doing.

My mind wandered away from me. What?! What’s happening? Stop thinking about how you don’t want to be here. Stop thinking about how thin his penis looks now.

I’m sucking. Licking. Stroking my hand on his shaft while my tongue runs over the head of his cock. I’m starting to wonder if he’s ever gonna cum. Why is it taking so long? Did it always take this long? God, I don’t remember. Why does the floor seem damp? My knees are starting to hurt. Why don’t they hurt at other times?

I hear him moaning, but nothing like I want to hear him sound. Does it feel good to him? I wanna hear that sound that only he makes. I look at him as I lick the sides of his now very hard cock. Taking his balls into my mouth as I run my tongue down the sides, pulling them into my mouth then running my tongue across them as they are in my mouth. And yet, I still don’t hear that sound I so desperately crave to hear.

The thoughts of self-doubt start filling my mind. Maybe I’ve lost my touch. I prided myself on this talent that I have perfected for myself. Now I’m shaking. Why? Why isn’t it working?

I stop. He says “I wanna feel your skin against mine.” His way for asking for sex. Nope. I can’t. Don’t know where he’s been. I tell him that. “rubber?

‘No, I only have sex with her.” I knew he was still with her. I didn’t care. I’m trying to figure out, what’s taking him so long. He pulls my hair out of my face into his hand & holds it into a ponytail. Pulling my hair, holding my head. I thought we were close, I swear he drifted off for a second. I looked up at him and stopped. I laughed “ I can’t have sex with you. we’ve been apart too long for that now.” In my mind sucking his dick wasn’t the same as having vaginal sex. I continued sucking his still hard cock. My mouth starting to get tired. I tasted a faint taste of him. We’re getting close.

I’m doing everything that I would do to make him cum fast, but nothing is working. I think he knew I was beginning to give up hope on this blow job. He started stroking his cock. I watched as I licked & sucked his balls. My mind had more questions like he strokes his cock with two fingers? Not his hand wrapped around it. Was his dick always this thin, that thought of thinness won’t leave my thoughts. Long. He is long. At times hitting the back of my throat before I could slide him down correctly. Sucking his cock down to the base, my nose buried into his pubic area. I take a deep breath, breathing his scent into my nasal passages.

His hand starts stroking again, my tongue running across the head. I start the dirty talk.

I want you to cum on my tongue. Watch your cock spurt that hot cum on my tongue. I’m gonna swallow it all. I’ve missed tasting you. Cum for me babe.

He continued to stroke his cock faster. I watched & waited. There was no sounds, no tight muscles. Until the second before. I was unprepared for the initial spurt, which landed on his stomach.  I seen his body tense up, hearing the release in his voice. I quickly sucked him into my mouth. I heard that grasp of air. I swallowed, tightening around his cock. I did this until I felt his limp cock in my mouth. I really couldn’t taste him when I was swallowing, which was ok. I moved my mouth to the spot where his cum had landed on his stomach. I licked up what I had missed. Looking up at him and him watching me. Smiling.

Start from the beginning with “Practice Makes Perfect

I wanted him to miss that kinky little slut I used to be for him.

Upon finishing, I giggled “sorry it took so long, it seems I’ve lost my touch. I haven’t been practicing.”

Baby, you are the best. Will always be the best – to me.”

He brushes the hair away from my face, tucking some behind my ear. “No. Don’t ever doubt yourself.”

I smiled brightly, stood up. Picking up my coat, putting it on as I began walking. “Can’t stay.”

He walked me to the door. Kissed me on the lips, hugged me. “Be careful.” 

This post is part of the blogging meme “The Fellatio Project.” You can read more by clicking the banner below.

The Fellatio Project

The Blowjob

Continuing with Kinky Mia’s “The Fellatio Project.” This is my second post about the subject of Fellatio. I’m sharing a personal experience regarding of one of my favorite sexual acts.

I had gotten several texts from him since the meeting night wanting to get together. We talked about the things we liked to do, turn on’s etc. He kept texting me. I was feeling the pressure, more like I was curious to find out what another cock felt like in my mouth and in other places. I really wasn’t sure about having sex with him, not just yet. Giving a blowjob, should & might satisfy both of our curiousness about each other. Besides that, I could bail quickly & easily. Not having to worry about getting undressed & dressed in front of him, etc.

After a dragged out discussion on when and where, he picked a place. I drove from work to meet him. He gave me the directions, it didn’t take me long to find him. I got in his car,  he drove to another location. He found a spot he liked, he looked at me, “come here and suck my cock.” He unzipped his pants,  I moved over to be able to give him one of my best blowjobs. I remember my hair was down. Sure that’s sexy, but to perform this task, my hair needs to be away from my face. Why? Because my hair is so thick that it creates a area that air doesn’t pass through, making it difficult to breathe & then I start to sweat. I hate to sweat.

Read the first post in “The Fellatio Project” HERE


I have always prided myself on my blowjobs. I noticed that his cock is long & slender, not what I’m used to at all. He was longer, that was the first thing I felt. I could tell because he would hit the back of my back rather hard. He wasn’t thick, much more like what I call a “pencil dick.” He was very thin, like a pencil. I prefer a bit more thickness, because there is more of a challenge of breathing, swallowing, etc. I  still loved being able to deep throat him and swallowing while I did it. Breathe! You have to relax & breathe. He pushed my head down on his cock a few times which made my eyes water, but I didn’t miss a beat. Sometimes, I don’t mind eyes watering, if that’s what we are both in the mood for. You know, the mascara running down a chick’s face look. He finally came in my mouth, down my throat along with any evidence of this performance. My reward was the sound of his orgasm, the uncontrollable twitching of the first blowjob. The control I felt, that was my high. My drug. He was very impressed with my skill. He made a comment about my blowjob being one of the best blowjobs he’s ever had. I don’t wanna sound arrogant. However, he wasn’t the first one to say that nor the last. I often wonder if guys say that because they think that it’s something she wants to hear. I just know I’m good at what I do. I practiced. A lot. He was impressed with me not having a gag reflex. I do have a slight reflex however it’s no where near as intense as it was before my tonsillectomy.

Afterwards, on the way back to my car, I asked him questions about his lifestyle choice of being a swinger. He explained a lot to me only thing is he wanted to keep me a secret from his wife. I’m thinking this is different from swinging. I’m thinking that he is mostly a wayward spouse & a swinger when his wife is around. What he & I had was not romantic at all. It’s just when ever one of us needs a fix. He added a sense of excitement to my life. He would be able to answer that question of how would another man feel. Can I do this without guilt? “There are no emotions involved with this,” he told me, “I love my wife, it’s fun & exciting fucking others to.” At times I’m confused about all of this, but will continue to experiment and explore as much as I can. And experiment I did.

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The Fellatio Project