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Pantsless in Portland

The creator of Erotisphere writes about the website,
the Portland scene, and life without pants.

by AnDroid

Breakup Sex

Written by AnDroid   
Thursday, 01 October 2009 16:20

Nina and I are naked, sprawled out over blankets and pillows on the living room floor of my father's apartment, which is where I've been living since I graduated from college three months ago. With my head tucked between her thighs, I'm rolling my tongue around Nina's clitoris, keeping it slick with my saliva. In my head I'm thinking, “This is it. I'll never get to taste this again.” We broke up almost two weeks ago, and I know this is probably the last time we'll ever have sex, so I'm giving it my all. I slow down, drench the whole area with spit while relaxing my lips and letting the underside of my tongue brush downward against her inner labia, flexing it into a point to lightly penetrate her vagina, and even though during the years we've been together – were together – she's always told me to just focus on her clit, at present moment she's quietly sighing, saying “Uh, uh,” as I swirl the tip of my tongue against the entrance of her vagina, and I wonder if she's thinking the same thing as me, that this really is our final romp together so we might as well make the most of it.

I massage the perimeter of her vagina with a middle finger, allowing the cavity to relax and dilate, her juice spilling out and mixing with my drool as I cup the upper area of her vulva with my mouth, my top lip quivering on the hood of her clit, my tongue lazily pushing against the folds of her labia, and I'm watching her face twist with pleasure, her head tilted back and pressing hard against the pillow and the bottom of the couch.

I decide to take a risk. Lifting her thighs up with both hands and lowering my head down so that my nose is resting against her clitoris, I slide my tongue lower, across her perineum, keeping my eyes fixed on her facial expression, expecting at any moment to be pushed away, and finally I'm pressing against the rim of her anus, soaking it, feeling it tense and relax on the tip of my tongue, and to my surprise she moans louder and pushes herself against me, filling my mouth with her ass.

The last time – the only time – I brought up the idea of eating out Nina's ass was two years ago, and it resulted in an argument that ended with Nina calling me a “faggot.” I was so humiliated I never brought it up again or tried doing anything at all down there until now. Even now as she strains to press her ass harder against my face I feel a lingering sense of dread, like she might suddenly realize what's going on and pull away, but I'm enjoying this too much to stop. Her asshole has a crisp, surprisingly mild taste that's causing my salivary glands to go wild, flooding my mouth with drool that's spilling out all over her buttocks. Her muscles are relaxed enough that I'm able to push my tongue inside a bit as I press gently against the edge with my thumb to help it gape open, and Nina is continuing to push against me and moan quietly, and I'm thinking, “Goddammit, Nina, we could have been doing this for years if you hadn't been so fucking cruel!

When I've gotten my fill of Nina's ass I decide it's time to finish her off. Keeping a thumb against her sphincter, slightly penetrating the now well-lubricated folds, I shift my head upwards again, using my other hand to slip two fingers into her vagina and curling them upwards against the swollen lump of her g-spot, and I put my mouth on her clitoris and suck while applying pressure to the opening of the hood in a circular motion and rapidly tensing my lips. Nina's moaning louder now, although still hushed and breathy, and I find myself letting out an involuntary “Mmmmm” while my erection grinds against the carpet, almost ready to burst.

I'm watching her stomach now, the muscles jumping as she starts to buck, and I ride her pelvis with my head, keeping the rhythm of my tongue steady until she finally yelps, “Oh!” and grinds her ass into the blanket, and I feel her vaginal muscles twitching against my fingers and watch the same muscles clench on her stomach. My hand is soaked almost down to the wrist with her cum, and I feel the same fluid drying on my neck while I keep my mouth on her clit until the final spasms of her orgasm have subsided.

She sighs and whispers, “That was good.”

I sit back on my haunches, wipe my mouth and hand on the blanket, and stretch forward, simultaneously sliding my erection into her and kissing her on the mouth. I thrust, long and slow, and lay lower, resting my head next to hers, kissing her earlobe. Then I pull into her with more force. She whispers a quiet, “Uh,” and I thrust repeatedly, hard and fast, and I'm ejaculating into her, and I falter slightly as I orgasm, quietly growling, then continue to pump away for several minutes until I get that sinking feeling of boredom and futility and slow my pace.

“Did you cum?”she says.

“Yeah,” I say, and I roll off of her.

Nina hops up, pulls on her t-shirt and pajama bottoms, and tiptoes into the bathroom to clean up. I lay there on the wadded blankets and pillows with my hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling, my penis still fully erect and throbbing on my stomach. Dark thoughts creep into my mind. There'll be more fighting, more crying, more heartache between the two of us in the weeks and months to come as the slow and painful process of our separation continues.

My erection remains.


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