It never ceases to amaze me how one person can spend almost their entire life with someone and still learn new things about them every day.
It’s been almost 20 years of entanglement with my long-standing on-again, off-again partner O. We officially met on a sunny afternoon shortly after I turned 18. I’d notice him checking me out over the past four years since I moved to 1st Avenue, but my intense tunnel vision had kept our paths from crossing until one fateful afternoon. He caught me just as I was waiting for the light to change; he complimented me, introduced himself, asked for my number, and the rest was history. It’s been over 17 years, and no matter how much time passes from one hook up or boyfriend to the next, he never ceases to amaze me. He’s always been supportive, encouraging, occasional ball-buster, a great voice of reason, and a great partner.
Because I only recently moved into my own place, all our encounters over the years had been brief and at his place. It was a breath of fresh air to finally not have to get up and leave after sex. I could just sit back and relax after I locked the door and sent him on his way. Oh! How I love watching a man leave.
One day he was over my place, and I told him that I’d invite him over for dinner one night, since I’d never cooked for him, and he didn’t make it to my housewarming (despite being the 1st person to get me a gift). Going over the foods he liked and disliked, he said he didn’t eat shrimp because he was allergic, and I was flabbergasted. He swore up and down that he had told me before, and I just didn’t remember. But being a radical seafood lover (especially when it came to shrimp, and over the past 5 years – oysters), I could’ve sworn I would’ve remembered a detail such as that. God, forbid I see him after a visit to City Island (true New Yorkers know what I’m talking about), his life would be over. From that moment, I put it in my mental Rolodex that he was allergic to shrimp and to be careful when I invited him over in the future. I just didn’t think that the future would be so soon.
On a dull Friday afternoon, he called me when he got home from work and asked me what I was doing; I told him I was eating a salad. He joked about me finally getting on my fitness shit, and he told me he would come to see me. It was then that I told him I was eating a shrimp Caesar salad, and as bomb as my pussy was, I didn’t want him to die from a kiss. He said he didn’t care and that he was on his way. As he hung up the phone, I reminded him that it also meant I couldn’t suck his dick. He replied that he’d rather his dick swell up than his throat close up. Men?!?!
I finished my salad, swallowed some warm water, then used some mouthwash, and in less than 20 minutes, he was at my door.
He pushed my body up against the counter in my kitchen, pulled open my robe, and began licking, teasing, and biting my nipples. Maybe the risk of anaphylactic shock inspired him to be more aggressive because this was a new man in the new year. Quite abruptly, after he got his fill, he stopped, went into my living room, and he had the nerve to sit in my spot. I straddled his hips as he went back to licking and sucking my nipples. I avoided his lips until he pulled my face to his, and we kissed deeply. I ran my tongue along his neck and ears when he started to indicate that I had touched a nerve. Enjoying his reaction, I continued flicking my tongue into his (very clean) ear until he had enough. I sucked at his nipples, kissed down his chest, licked at his navel, and I made my way to his long thick dick. When I pulled his pants down, his dick stood at attention, like it was waiting for me, or better yet, my mouth.
I started on him slowly; I swirled my tongue around his tip, then I licked up and down his shaft, and then I took him into my mouth. His moans and squirms confirmed that I was doing a fantastic job pleasing him, and if he walked home with a swollen dick, he’d be happy. I rode him on the sofa until he came with perfect timing, and I continued to ride him until he resurrected.
He said he wanted to fuck me on my bed. To be honest, I didn’t want to as my new faux fur bed set was white. I swiftly threw down my wet blanket (a microfiber blanket I ordered from amazon to protect my sheets when I squirt), and we got to business. We kissed passionately as he thrust into me repeatedly until he came. When it was all done, there was a bit of blood from my period breaking through (he didn’t mind, though). He was a little lightheaded as it had been years since we had sex back-to-back. He hit his leg on the platform of my bed, got dressed, fell on his way home, and called me to say I put a curse on him.
I ensured him putting a curse on him was the farthest thing on my mind. I only wanted to avoid giving him shrimp dick.