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It was one thirty in the morning on a Thursday when I found myself a witness to a flaw in physics, as Sarah was sitting on top of my bed in my bedroom, and I knew full well that those two properties of this universe could not take up the same space. She rested her back against the headboard with her knees up to her chest. Her coat was on the chair in the corner, and she looked comfortable. Which made one of us.
She intimidated me. She was barely in her twenties and had obtained her degree, while I stuck with role that required minimal responsibility, and I just turned thirty. She was also cooler than me, which is strange, because I understand the juvenile senselessness in that way of thinking, but that was because I always selfishly thought I was smarter and more cultured than everybody else. Then, I met her, and I now feel like I’m living in junior high.
I was leaning over the side of the bed, looking for a large wooden box that seemed to keep misplacing itself after each use. Shame wept over me as I groaned to reach for the stash, finally wrapping my fingers around a corner. I sat beside her and revealed the contents inside.
So, we work together. Earlier tonight, we ended up in conversation for the first time, and I let slip that I smoke ganja, and suddenly, she got really interested. Instinct led me to believe she was trapping me into getting fired, so I was reluctant to share more details. Her physicality, however, seemed to be enough of an insistence that I had no problem changing my mind moments later, where I divulged my regular bake schedule. She suggested we should hang after work. I laughed.
When it became clear a minute later that she was serious, I apologized, admitting my obvious confusion at her interest to hang, even if it was just to smoke weed. She simply stated her curiosity has overwhelmed her the last few months, and I found I could relate to that. I felt the same sudden desire to know what it was like to live life as a stoner.
“How do you want to smoke?” I asked.
“Are you sure? A bong might be less harsh.”
“I want to try and roll it.”
I picked a bag of Kush and placed a few nugs into the grinder. After a few cycles, I fumbled through the rest of my stash gadgets before finding a pack of rolling papers. I placed the box lid upside down on her lap, emptying the grinder in the center.
I live my life by details, because the more I remember, the better I know what impact that moment will have on my life. This particular night had many. The first was the moment our skin first made contact when the skin of my fingers met the softer skin of her thumb when handing her the papers.
“Thanks”, she said, smiling.
I nodded, staring at her. If the nanosecond of muscle movement in her neck hadn’t clued me in to turn away my gaze, she would have found my stare to be creepy and unromantic. But, I couldn’t help it. I was astounded this beautiful person was beginning a memory with me. She evenly sprinkled the weed atop the folded receptacle, generously approximating the amount we’ll consume. Without changing her focus, she asks, “Wanna turn escort ataşehir on some music?”
“Uh… yeah, sure.”
This could be scary. The music I decide to play may either placate her, or repel her to leave. I couldn’t play the music I normally listen to. Aborted, Cannibal Corpse, Bruno Mars, I mean… these just aren’t the bands that will impress other women.
I tried thinking outside of the box, and eventually settled on a Ben Folds Five vinyl. I set the needle down and she gave me a smirk.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. I like Ben Folds.”
“Why the smirk?”
“This is what you listen to?”
“I listen to this.”
“All the time?”
“Well,” I paused, “not all the time.”
“You don’t need to impress me,” she stated bluntly. “I don’t want you to play me what you think I want to hear. It’s your house. Play your music.”
“I don’t think you want to listen to my music.”
Her eyes burned straight into mine as she pulled the joint up to her lips and gently licked the strip of glue on the paper, never turning her stare away. I bowed my head in defeat and thumbed through my phone. I played what I listened to last, a technical death metal song.
It played for a while, the guitars shredding through the speakers, while the pulse of the drums traveled through the walls and the floor. She smiled.
“I like it,” she said. “Not my go-to style of music, but it has musicianship.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say. Nothing to contribute, nothing to praise… nothing to acknowledge. Eventually, I nodded. The way she rolled her eyes didn’t feel condescending, but rather forgiving. She patted the space next to her.
As I fell beside her, she turned her body towards me and brought the joint to my lips. Briefly, I looked at her for what I guess was permission, eventually accepting it with my mouth. I grabbed a lighter from my pocket and lit the end, where the white burst into an orange plasma. Immediately, the smoke tightened my chest, and I could feel a searing pressure against my throat. I couldn’t control the small droplets of spit that expelled when I coughed out what I hit. I took one more puff, smaller, then quickly sucked the air in. Holding my breath, I handed it to her.
Her lips pouted around the joint, accentuating a perverse thought racing through my mind. She hit it quickly, taking to quick tokes, than coughed as well, albeit, more reserved. When she got the last of the smoker out of her, she smiled at me, handing me back the weed.
“Thanks for inviting me over, and letting me smoke your weed.”
“Don’t mention it,” I said, taking another hit. “It was my pleasure.”
“So how long have you been smoking?”
“Probably about three years.”
Her reaction had some shock, leading her to shorten her puff. She compensated with another small hit, then asked, “I would have thought sooner.”
“I never had any curiosity until then.”
“So why do you like doing it?”
I paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to answer.
“I guess,” I started, “it helps me with a lot of things. I feel more motivation kadıköy escort bayan to do more things, push myself harder, it gives me a lot of confidence, and it makes certain experiences more gratifying.”
She handed me the joint with a quizzical look on her face.
“If it gave you so much confidence, how come it took you until tonight to talk to me?” she asked.
I laughed and genuinely answered, “It gives me a little bit of confidence. It doesn’t make me a super hero.”
Her brown eyes connected with mine and an incredibly elating smile crept on her face. She then leaned over and kissed me. Her lips were the softest lips I’ve ever felt. Her mouth was warm, barely inviting my tongue inside with hers. We kissed for so long, the joint had gone out.
But, I didn’t give a fuck.
For another few minutes, I forgot who I was, as up until that point, there was no reality where this could actually be happening. Her hands were on my face, the breath from her nose blowing warmly against my skin.
She pulled away, grabbed the joint, and reignited the cherry, enjoying one long puff. She passed the joint to me before she pulled her shirt off, revealing a black lace bra. She cradled her legs around mine, leaning back to kiss me again. Her gentle way of making out soon intensified with every few seconds, as her hands wandered down to my belt. My stomach jolted in anticipation as she unbuckled her way to my zipper.
She made a gesture for the joint, and I hurriedly obeyed. She took one last toke, the placed the joint back into my lips. She slowly lowered my zipper, and then pulled my jeans and underwear down my thighs, where she then took my already hard cock in her hand.
The weed started to kick in, and my body felt vibrating sensations moving up and down my nerves, while most of the blood rushed to my dick. She started jerking me off with one hand while the other reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. She stopped to pull it off of her chest, revealing her perfect B cup breasts, her nipples hard from excitement.
She moved her position down my legs, bending over to kiss my stomach, her ass high in the air. Her spine was perfectly lit up to the hem of her jeans, where her thong slightly peaked out. Her hair was tied in a knot and gave me full view of her moving her way down to my hips. I was trembling at this point and couldn’t conceive of any more pleasure…
… but the I felt her breath on my erection, her fingers grabbing my shaft. She swirled her tongue around the tip of my cock, coating it with hot saliva, before putting her pouting lips softly around the head.
She then opened her mouth and put just a little more of me inside. Then, a little more. Before long, she had all of me, and started slowly bobbing her head up and down. She softly sucked my dick as her left hand made its way to my balls, cupping them with a gentle squeeze. Her other hand was wrapped around the base of my shaft, stroking with the pace of her head.
I strained my head to the side and saw her thong peaking more outside of her jeans, her ass almost coming out. Her breasts also remain softly escort bostancı lit, swelling me inside her wet mouth. She started to go deep, pushing me against her throat, driving me close to the edge much too fast. She sucked faster, her head bouncing up and down, her lips coating my dick with a wet sheen. I had to stop her, or I would cum too soon.
I pulled her away, which at first brought confusion. I kissed her to take away her concern, easing her onto her back.
This was my chance to appreciate her, for everything she was. It was also my one opportunity to show her my potential. I moved my attention to the nape of her neck, softly caressing her collar with my lips. My hands began to strum my fingers across her skin, sending goose bumps across her body. I felt my away across both sides of her ribs, moving my mouth down her sternum. I slid my hands up to her breasts and firmly grasped each while letting my tongue find her right nipple.
Her eyes were closed when I looked at her. She let out a small, whimpering moan, signaling me to continue. Her nipples weren’t large, but full, firmly aroused to the touch, and all the more pleasing as I let my teeth tease around her areola, being careful not to bite. I let one hand remain to squeeze her breasts as I saw fit while I fiddle clumsily to get her jean undone.
I removed her boots, and then slid her pants down her hips, kissing her legs as she became exposed. Her black thong had pulled half way down her ass, so I slowly let my fingers pull them off her, letting them tickle her along the way.
She let me push her legs open, revealing her gorgeous pussy. She had stubble shaved into a landing strip, seemingly because she couldn’t wait for the hair to grow in. Her lips barely contained the inside of her vulva, which beckoned me to pleasure her. I dropped down to her clit and slowly brought my tongue around her lips. She brought her fingers to my hair, letting me feel her hands tremble.
I started licking her clit up and down, making her moan a little louder. A pearl shrouded in velvet robes, her clit swelled under the pressure of my warm tongue, making her blood rush inside of her vulva. The weed started clouding my brain, and I became lost. I started glaze my finger around the opening of her pussy, teasing her lips why I sucked on her clit. She started to pull my scalp, signaling me to push my fingers further inside. I obeyed and slipped two inside with a welcoming grip from her pc muscles, trying not to feel emasculated that her vagina has a stronger grip than my handshake. Her breathing started to quicken, as I dug my fingers against the top wall of her pussy. I licked a little faster, noticing her hips start to rock as she started building to climax.
I lost my focus when she pulled my hair in enjoyment. She got off her back and pulled me up to kiss her, not bothered by the taste of her on my lips. She grabbed my cock again, sliding her hand down to my balls to give them a squeeze.
“I want you,” she breathes into my ear. “I want you to fuck me.”
She pulled away from me, arousing a sudden panic she was going to come to her senses and flee. Instead, she turns around pushing her ass under my cock, lying her head down on the pillow.
In front of me, was Sarah bent over, showing me her pussy and asshole.
If I wake up from this apparent, I’m going to kill myself for being an ungrateful shit.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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