Free erotic stories by harbour on AdultRead
Slowly and more determinedly Christian pulled my my shirt to the side, exposing me completely and taking a good look at the hidden piece I had to offer. Then he placed his hand on my cock and began to slowly rub it, his eyes alternating between intently studying every inch of my sex, and traversing up to my eyes, which were in turn studying him. I let the silence draw out a moment or two, savouring how good it felt as I looked deeply into my handsome friend’s eyes. Now his hands were under my arse, moving my hips upward and I felt the warmth and silky wetness of his mouth trailing south, pausing to pleasure my testicles again before continuing further downward.
Despite his best attempts to be quiet he would let out a little moan now and again that caused a delectable twitching deep in my lower abdomen and I would counter the sensation by taking a deep breath and turning my face up toward the dark ceiling before focusing once more on my thrusts. The way his breathing changes when I begin to move my fingers in and out of him; the way the hairs on his shin feel against my torso; the warm, bitter taste of beer on his lips and tongue. He moans softly into my mouth as I continue to finger him and my cock twitches, eager for its turn.
In the scenario Jane had written in her diary, he had told her what an attractive young woman she was becoming, and as this was the truth he thought that the best way to start would be to use those exact words. Her body went rigid at the thought that she was actually wetting herself at this of all moments, but John’s fingers stroking the side of her face pulled her back into the bliss of the present and all else was forgotten. It felt better than she ever imagined anything could feel, and the way John was breathing and moving his tongue against hers told her that he was enjoying it as much as she was, which only made it sweeter.
Tentatively Erich began to move his hand up and down, delighting at the subtle way Gustav’s muscles tensed in response to his touch; the way his jagged breaths caught in his throat and his sex twitched each time his foreskin was drawn back and forth over his sensitive tip. Gustav shook his head, his eyes cast downward and Erich felt a deep sympathy for his friend, along with an underlying sense of guilt for his lack of patience - not just that day but in general - and he inwardly resolved to be a better friend to Gustav, as he so often did following such moments of insight.
An intense wave of pleasure hit me hard when he began to caress my tongue with his and I moaned softly into his mouth as his lips crushed mine, his fingers entwined in my hair, pulling me to him. Then he leaned over me and put his mouth so close to my ear that I could feel his lips form the words, “You’re a naughty little cock tease, Elisabeth North. His proud manhood slid home like a key into a lock again and again and he turned my face to his to taste my mouth while I squirmed and wriggled about beneath him, relishing the feel of him inside me.
Something about the way he looked that day, the graceful ease with which his hands moved when he gestured, the gentle rise and fall of his voice struck me as charming and it suddenly occurred to me that I could have more from this boy if I wanted to. Leaning forward in his chair and shyly biting his lower lip he said, “Is it true you sleep with a different girl every night?” There was a mixture of trepidation and awe in his voice, but I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the question. Stefan looked shocked but my description obviously caused something to click into place in his mind and the confusion in his face gave way to unease; the sort that comes with hearing some deeply unsettling truth for the very first time.
His back arched a little and he closed his eyes, imagining her perfect lips on his, his fingers in her hair as their kiss gradually intensified. He had allowed his mind to entertain impure thoughts and by obtaining physical pleasure through those thoughts he had abused God’s gift, sinned against his body in the worst possible way. The way her dress hugged her body, the feel of her hand on his, the way her pupils dilated when their eyes met. With rapid little breaths he slowly stroked himself and thought of being deep inside her. He quickened his strokes, lost in the intense arousal that gripped him as he lay there, guiltlessly taking pleasure in his own body.
These gatherings of his, it turns out, were generally weekend affairs held two to three times a year; long nights of debauched pleasures which the pretty young things of Vienna (hand-picked by Wolfi and his closest friends) indulged in, intoxicated on opium, wine and unimpeded passion, stopping only to rest before carrying on. Large glasses of wine were handed to us and the girls painted our faces with stage makeup, which actually proved an altogether pleasant affair, for it involved the twin delights of being touched, stroked and pampered by the opposite sex (who made very comely boys, I might add) while offering up a deliciously amusing chance for flirtation.