Tag Archives: love

Chapter 5. London. Trafalgar Square.


– Red, I have been looking at the dates and realized that you have a free week before the exam….why would not you come over?

The day after I was trying to fit my overpacked suitcase on the handluggage shelf hastily chewing the last bit of airplane panino.

I took the key from the door man and walked into the flat. He was waiting for me there wearing shiny suit and inviting smile. Mr Big rushed from the business meeting to pay me a surprise… I fell on the couch feeling same time tired and affectionate. He came closer and my flirtatious mind could not think anything else but how to take care of my best friend. I pulled him closer to my face and took object of my obsession out of his pans. My best friend reacted immediately and arised in the most adorable way. I started to kiss him…first gently …playing with the end…than I moved down and reached his balls, …kissing and playing with them… I turned my attention back to my friend … and started to move, my tongue was stimulating the crown…and he was so deep in my mouth that I could not breath sheltering almost all of it… he took his phone and started to film. Something in my head still had some objections, but I killed it immediately and did not stop the game. I looked into his eyes and smiled still holding my best friend in my mouth… moving so fast… my left hand was stroking his balls…

and I started to lick him like the tastiest Italian gelato, rolling my eyes of pleasure… I guess I could do it forever… The film came up to be a sterling porno amusing my man in the tube on his way to Canary Wharf every morning.

The Saturday morning was the perfect moment to get lost in the London metro and made my friends and Mr Big wonder where I am for half an hour. Shortly after arriving and 3 bottles of prosseco I was almost sure that huge sign „ERECTED …” is an appropriate word to put on  every monument across shaded London. One more pot of Sangria and delicious sausage on the stick(I pick those the tastiest) became a final accord of the Borough market for the day and this time proper metro line took my lion, me and my old friend Bee to his sunny apartment on the Trafalgar Square.

The plan was to head to the Ice Bar where we had a reservation in a few hours. A short dialog performed by Mr Big convinced Bee to fall a sleep in the bedroom, so I could take care of my best friend straight away…

the door to bedroom was open widely and even my slight breath could wake her up. That did not stop me, I pushed him on the couch and got straight on top of him, I did not need kissing, I did not need any pre-game, everything I wanted was right there, on the couch, warm and hard.

I took him inside, quite and slowly. I love it loud, but not this time, this time this silence excited me even more, stimulating my desire and pushing my lower body back and forward and taking him as deep as never before. I felt him completely. He covered my mouth with his hand and I could not stop wailing:I love it! His other hand was moving my hips even faster…I dreamt about it! Go! …so deep that I could not take it and had to calm down… more! more! more! Faster! Yes, yes, yes!  …so deep and silly! I was riding him hard, occasionally stroking his delicate balls…enforcing the tension and rising the blood pressure of both of us to the human limits. The warmth of pleasure spilled over to  every cell of my body…

He was close … either was I, I bent … I felt the warmth … in my mouth …slowly spilling onto my cheeks.


Chapter 4. Paris


Pardon my French, when it comes to staying naked on the balcony facing shiny tower I learnt quickly how to speak French in bed.

I know, it is difficult to believe, but French are very talented people, through the long centuries of their existence they have managed to find an exclusive recipe for love and pissing other nations off. The execution of the last one is guaranteed more or less 5 minutes after arrival to France. Short after walking out of the metropolitan, all shaking of excitement and deep fear I have finally overcome the natural feeling of hate to everything around and occasionally dropping my suitcase started to get closer to the Mexican Square.

I met him in Armani club somewhere in the darkness of Milan City. His cousin reached me all alone and dressed in black, and suggested to talk to this Americano. Oh my God! Another one? Seriously, guys, I have seen this trick already, just a week before another Italian „macho” was pretending to be Brazilian…

…in the world of Italian men there is no time to decide, after 3 seconds I was pulled into the company of this charming curly suit next to the bar.

What would you like to drink followed in a nice manner. I asked for the same thing as he drinks (not suspecting to get a glass of vodka with a tiny drop of lemon juice) and let myself fall into a soft but entertaining truly English conversation…

This is where the sex journey began. Three weeks later I flu to Paris to meet him over the weekend. I walked into the hotel room all nervous… Ulala, I saw Eifel tower from the window and his voice reminded me why exactly did I decide to take this flight and meet this handsome stranger. He was well equipped: there were at least 4 bottles of vine on the table. A few more minutes and my shaking body surrendered to the cold of Rose and warm of his hands. February in Paris is not as warm as you would expect, so grabbing his hand 10 minutes after the meeting seemed to be natural reaction to the bad weather and lovely atmosphere of Pari.

Oh, yes. Half an hour drunk swim made his affection very visible. We came back to the room, I changed for the bathing rope leaving some space for his imagination and some freedom to my breasts, but shhh nothing happened yet! My drunk desire of him became even stronger. I want you to kiss me. Kiss me, oh please. Those nasty thoughts did not give up on me and…his hand slided under my rope carefully palpating my shapes.

Believe it or not, the next thing coming out of his mouth was: never rush with sex. All my sexual confidence faded immediately…

And then came the evening. A little bit of alcohol and then a little bit more, dancing in the VIP club just across the street from Louvre and the view of Eifel from the hotel room removed all the moral barriers to what people call graphic experiences.

We walked back to the hotel in a fever of thrilling desire to taste the unknown…now, onto the balcony facing the Eiffel tower.

On the couch, I went on top of him spilling my vine all around the room, but I did not care. This was the first time when I let him inside. I felt instantly spreading warmth and satisfaction, and I said it,

I said as loud as one can imagine: You are so big!

He asked me what I wanted…I told him, take me from the back. He took me to the balcony, pulled my hair provocatively stimulating my breast and making me all wet down there. I bent moving hips closer to him and took it from the back, being pushed to the wide window with my nipples facing Eiffel dream. He did exactly what I wanted. Gentle. Kissing. Fast. Taking my tongue. Saying nothing. Still feeling nervous and impatient. Stroking my body. Deep and slow. He was so hard, I felt him totally, spreading me so wide. Then he left me for a moment! I felt how much I desired him….and he came back!

…the fact that taxis were still passing beneath our balcony at this midnight hour made  our sexcapade even more intriguing.