Saturday, 11 August 2018


So here's something I've never mentioned before.

Sometimes, when I'm bored during moments of nocturnal insomnia, I envision myself giving oral sex, from a first-person perspective. That is to say, every single second of it.

I take myself through the process. Taking hold of the thighs, or hips, or sides, to steady myself. I breathe in, her scent all around me, and then touch my tongue lightly against her engorged pussy lips, my breath warm against her slit. I feel how wet she is... and then I start. All of this takes me a few seconds, but it's very vivid in my mind, like I don't want to miss a moment. Yes, in my imagination I can replay it over and over again, but it still feels like something I could miss.

I like to live every single lick. Small, darting movements from side to side, all the way up, from her perineum to her clitoral hood... and then back down again. Tiny laps, upwards with the tip of my tongue, tracing the same route, but this time taking in more of her slick opening. Small circles, maybe. Tongue over, under, and around her hard clit. If she's wet enough, and keen enough, I could slide myself inside her, my tongue surrounded by her inner walls, feeling them beat in time with her heart.

I'd bring her to orgasm, of course. But then that just gives me more to lick.

All of this I imagine. In the half-sleep, I often - almost every time - find myself unconsciously doing the movements - my lips and tongue practising with the air, almost. If I'm lost in the rĂªverie, I can practically taste it. I can lose a lot of time doing this - if I concentrate on every single beat.

It's not the real thing, and it never will be. There are things missing - the heat of her thighs either side of my head; her quickening breath, her moans, her gasps. I can't feel her hands wending their way through my hair, holding my head in place; I miss the spreading sensation when she starts to near her climax, and the shake, the arching back, and the release when she comes. I don't get real girlcum fillling my mouth and spilling down my chin, and I don't genuinely feel my nose pressing against her clit as it throbs and pulses. I don't feel the tickle of her pubic hair. I can't roam my hands around her soft skin, or caress her tits as I lick her.

These things, yes, are missing.

But it is a wonderful thought nonetheless.

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