I can’t help but go for straight identifying men.
I generally arrange a hookup a few days beforehand, and suss out likes and dislikes. I have a strong preference for men who identify as straight, total tops, who could be labelled as “active”. I like what I like.
Despite being in Brighton, it can be hit and miss when it comes to guys; now and again you meet a guy - fireworks.
Recently, I met a man who was in town contracting on a film set for two nights.
He came over, got into my bed and we made out for ages, talking dirty as we did.
We faced one another, exchanging sloppy, wet kisses. Intermittently, he paused to lick his palm and rub my pussy until it started to squelch. My arms were wrapped around him, clinging to his body. He ignored my clit, I was under strict instructions to be caged.
My head spun in a horny daze.
“Are you daddy’s girl?”
“Yes, daddy.” I whined. “Yes!”
Next I was on all fours, while he ate out my pussy from balls to pussy. I moaned like a tabby in heat.
Then came his time.
“Daddy needs to fuck.”
He lined up he sizable dick with my pussy and slid in slowly. I writhed on his cock to receive an encouraging spank.
“Good girl, baby.”
He held my hips firm and pumped into me. I felt so good, given the amount of foreplay we indulged in.
He slowed his pace, leaned forward and hooked my cheek with his finger. I reacted by backing up onto him. He howled as I pressed against him.
We both came at the same time.
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