Purr-fection.

What a cheesy title.

Anyway, fellatio. My adoration for oral goes both ways, it seems.

I hadn't tried it until May of this year, because I was nervous and I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it well.

But it was after prom (oh, so cliche), and we were lying on the floor of my living room, in the dark at two in the morning. Nobody else was home. Gently, he coaxed me, and after a lot of stalling, I made my way down.

My technique, of course, was imperfect. It involved a lot of teeth (wince), although I did minimize it somewhat by recalling tips I'd heard before and covering them with my lips. But he seemed to enjoy it--actually, he definitely did, because after only a few minutes, what had been only a half-aroused cock was hard as rock, and he, a usually silent guy, was breathing heavily and quietly moaning.

Thrilled, I adopted fellatio as my favorite hobby.

The second ever time I gave him head (yes! fewer teeth! more lubrication!) was on the floor next to his bed, with his whole family home (I laugh in the face of danger, ha).

I was trying this twisty thing I'd heard about, and he was going, "Ahhh..yessss." Oh, it was sooo gratifying. And sexy. Mmmm, I love it when I'm able to focus on his pleasure alone. I think that was my favorite time doing that, but it's difficult to choose, really.

It was also immensely entertaining in his living room, with him being shy (for good reason, it's true) and me whispering in his ear, "You know you want me to..." and finding definite physical proof. But because it wasn't exactly private--his family was over on the other side of the house--he'd only allow me ten seconds at a time. Gosh, that was fun.

And I really do crave it. I've been wanting to do it pretty much 24/7 after the first time. Yum.

That time in the back seat of my Cadillac was fun, too. I liked being able to use my whole body to move up and down (makes for less of a sore neck, hooray), I liked the sounds he made and how stiff he was and close to orgasm the entire time (even though that didn't quite happen), and I liked being relatively in the open. Am I weird that way?

I find myself really missing it. This might sound odd, but he is blessed with what pretty much amounts to perfection between his legs (for me; a gorgeous, thick seven inches--any longer and it'd kill me, I'm so small). Lucky me. (Because as shallow as it sounds, it matters.)

I love him so much, and it's almost always physically evident that he loves me. Ahhhh.