The Painal

His tongue in my ass was not a surprise this time, but it felt just as funny.

The first time I had felt him lapping me there was when he had been going down on me in the lounge. I love how he does that, how he makes me feel. He’s hardly ever asked me to suck him, but he does go down on me every time we are together.

He was pushing his tongue right up inside me and then back to my clit and getting me closer and closer to cumming. He never fails to make me cum this way.

This time, though, he moved below my pussy, licked briefly below, and then sank his tongue between my ass cheeks. It felt weird as hell. He didn’t do it for long, and I was soon gripping his head and having another of these amazing orgasms that I’ve never known before.

I guess the ass thing was a mistake.

I know now how much he likes my ass. He is always holding it when we fuck. Gripping it as we do it missionary on his mattress (or on his friend’s mattress, or the other friend, three of them in one room! Although, can I say we rarely have sex with the other two guys in the room. Not unheard of, but not our normal. We can go to my sister’s place and do it in the basement. Or just find a quiet spot in the city.)

Yeah, standing up we fuck like that too. He might hold both my hands above my head, or let me cling onto his shoulders. If I’m doing that, he will be squeezing my ass and manoeuvring my whole body onto his dick. I know I’ve never had sex with anyone else, but still, this cock of his must be a good one. It’s always rigid; it feels big and thick inside me, and the head is a beautiful tulip shape that I can’t help but admire from a distance and play with up close.

And well, watching it cum is a real blessing. Streams of it, thick and long and juicy. I don’t taste it much. He’s only cum in my mouth once, and it was fine, I survived, but I do like to play with it. I love giving him hand jobs.

We sit opposite each other on the bed, the mattress. Or maybe in a park behind bushes with the sounds of summer all around us, but no one knows what we’re up to. Or once below the skyscrapers of Toronto, on a bench where in the day, the office workers mournfully munch on sandwiches and sip expensive coffees. But at night, us lovers touch each other, and cum flies everywhere! Or if I am being a little more careful, onto the palm of my hand.

“Eat it!” and he will; often, he’ll take my hand and slowly lick it clean all the cum he’s just spread across it. It makes me laugh and giggle and always shocks me. I think it will shock me even if he does it a hundred times. I also keep expecting him to say, “No, you do it, you made me shoot that much. Take responsibility!”

And that is true! I mean, would he cum that hard for just anyone? I don’t think so. I am exactly his type, as he is exactly mine. I’m an Indian goth, young, short, curvy, and smiling all the time. Seriously, what isn’t there to love and lust for? But I’ve only just recently believed that because back at school, I grew up thinking my none-whiteness made me not the ideal sex symbol to guys. And maybe that’s true here, but English guys have a thing for us, and I have a thing for them. So, yeah, we were at it all the time!

Then, late at night, we sat on a climbing frame (yeah, sorry, so bad, but you know, we had to improvise!), and as we were touching each other, facing each other again. – Don’t let anyone tell you facing each other during sex isn’t the best. It is the best. Yeah, a bit of doggy, a bit of against the wall, him grinding into you from behind is all very nice, but I like eye contact. I like it when he’s going down on me. Although I have to look away when I’m getting close, I get too embarrassed to hold his stare!

So, yeah, we are up there, and I have his cock in both hands, my fingers dancing around his balls. I’ve slipped my panties off so he can put his hands straight into me under my loose skirt. It’s all so good.

The only thing with this is that at some point, we are going to have to do one of three things. I am going to have to stop touching him and let him finish me off. I am going to stop touching him, crawl onto his lap, and push down onto him. Or he is going to have to stop touching me, lean back, and let my hands do the talking and dance and pull and yank and stroke until he is exploding everywhere. Probably all over my clothes. Mum is very impressed that I’ve finally learned how to use the washing machine now that I’m all grown up!

But none of these three things happen right away; instead, he has a little experiment to play with. He takes my middle finger into his mouth and sucks it up and down, slapping his tongue against it. I love this, love it when he does this kind of thing, his mouth just exploring. I mean, I may have thought it weird when his tongue prodded at my anus like it was looking for a way in, but damn it, I loved it!

But he’d stopped touching me, and I felt a nakedness down there. I wanted to touch myself. I never had in front of him. I hadn’t ever thought about doing that. That was something you did on your own, and I had done it on my own a lot! So, I wasn’t going to start now, but he wasn’t going to keep me feeling naked and unfulfilled for long.

He lapped at it so much that when he removed my finger from his mouth, it glistened with his saliva. The street lamps and the moon making it look beautiful. Then he showed me why he’d done it.

He leaned back a little, lifted his knees by bending his legs more, and took my hand, and especially my finger, underneath his balls. With two hands he made sure I knew exactly what he wanted without having to say a word.

My middle finger touched his anus, and although I hesitated, - an ass hole for gods’s sake! - he made sure to push my finger in. And yeah, once it was past his sphincter, I could feel no reason to push right on in. I went knuckle-deep without any more encouragement needed. And pushed my finger back. As luck would have it for my boyfriend, I had been reading about the prostrate and how good it can feel for a guy. Didn’t think I’d ever do it, but here I was.

Yeah, a little icky perhaps, and I wished I had one of the tubes I put on my fingers at the photo shop I work at to sort the photos without leaving marks, but hey ho, I’ve realised sex is a messy business. And anyway, you think he won’t be sucking my finger clean once I’ve made him have an anal orgasm?

But he wasn’t finished with that. While I stroked him with one hand and used the other to pleasure his prostate, he put one of his middle fingers into my mouth.

Ok! I can do this! I can suck on a finger. I can even bite it a little. I can lick it, I can love it. I can treat it like a cock. That is what that is, isn’t it? When you put a finger in a woman’s mouth, you’re looking at it, feeling his tongue, and even it nudging the back of her throat and thinking, ‘my hard cock so needs to be on this tongue right now. Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I’ve cum in my pants!’ You know the score boys!

Or, let’s be honest, when you see me licking an ice cream, sucking on a lolly, smoking my cigarette. You’re all thinking the same damned thing, ‘fuck, those lips must suck cock so well.’ Well, I don’t know. I’ve only sucked on one, and not sucked all that much on that one, but yes my lips are large and soft and kiss so greedily. I am sure they’d suck you until they were sore. We kiss until they are sore! It can’t be so different.

Even when I suck my thumb! Kinky! But I only do it now to wind up old men on the trolley. Or photos for my boyfriend.

So, I sucked good and hard, I gagged a little. He laughed and pulled back. Then, when he had done with exploring my mouth with his finger, just as I was exploring his bum with my finger. My teeth, my tongue, the insides of my cheek. It must have looked funny to watch.

Then he withdrew it, carefully taking with it as much of my saliva as he could. I knew, of course, I knew. But it was still a shock.

“Lean back a little.”

I didn’t want to let go of him or withdraw my finger, so I shuffled as close to him as I could get while still doing everything I needed to do.

He put his finger to my anus, and I could feel him breathing harder with excitement. There was nothing I loved more than his excitement. It always felt like he was out of control and overcome with lust for me, that I couldn’t stop him if I tried. But then I never wanted to stop him, so who cares!

With an intensity and depth in his voice I’d never heard before, he was usually so jolly and British, he whispered, looking deep into my eyes, “I want my cock to go up there.” This was lust and need from him pushed to a whole new level. A little scary!

And yes, he pushed it in hard, sudden, deep, it felt to me, although it was no more than an inch to break my seal. So I screamed.

A cock up there! No way! But you know I’d do it. You just know I would.