True Sex Stories: Jeremy

What's that? A young man who isn't getting laid? Worry not—Leah's on the case!

Over lunch on Monday, my friend Jeremy told a group of us (mixed company) about his stupendously bad luck with the London dating scene. Not only are the women he finds uninteresting, they don't put out. He complained about having blue balls every time he goes out with a girl. The remedy at home went unstated. After we ate, I sent him an e-mail from my office.

If you want a no strings attached, one night stand, I am willing. I expect you will be discreet about anything that happens.

-L.

Late in the afternoon, Jeremy stopped by my office to ask if I was serious. My officemates had already left to get home before the tube strike started. I answered him by locking the door and going to my knees. Fishing his cock from his jeans, I stroked his length. I licked my palms to lubricate the motion of hands. Once he had hardened, the handjob became a blowjob. I rolled my tongue around the head. Making a ring with my fingers and tugging the skin taut at the base, I swished saliva over the glans. The pre-come tasted light and tangy. I smiled up at him and took his penis halfway down. My head bobbed over him. Spit on the shaft smoothed the movements. The penis was thick at the bottom, but it wasn't particularly long. Without much effort, I had him in my throat. Lips pressed against his groin, I breathed carefully through my nose, tightened the seal, and rotated my face while flattening the tufts of pubis down. I made my eyes big and fixed them on his.

His hands were on the back of my head. He pulled my hair and then slackened his grasp. His pelvis rocked slightly, forward and backward, and then he stood still. He nudged my head down, then stopped applying pressure. I got the impression that he was holding back. I moved his hands to the top of my head and stretched my tongue to touch his scrotum while his cock was in my throat, pushed my lips down hard, then surfaced for air. "Fuck my face," I told him. "Fuck it like it's my cunt." I spread my jaws wide and waited.

Jeremy skull fucked me. He grabbed my hair and pounded my throat with intent. Swallowing big gulps of air to ease his entry inside, I clutched his thighs and gave myself over to him. The saliva dropped from my mouth and fell over my top. It went on for about five minutes. His grip tightened on my scalp. He smashed my face against his pelvis. I splayed one hand against his abdomen to brace myself and caressed his balls with the other. I milked the head with my muscles. He erupted directly into my throat. I felt the viscous fluids barrel down my esophagus.

The blowjob convinced him that I was serious. I went home with him and happily put out. Whereas the sex in the office was rough, the sex in his apartment was gentle. We spent time exploring each other's bodies. The fingers in my cunt and the lips on my clit sent me to orgasm.

Jeremy couldn't kiss: too much tongue, too little tease. There was tension in the lips and a stiffness in how he moved. He also slobbered. I mentioned it to him as tactfully as I could, and we worked on that. I hope his newly discovered proficiency in swapping spit changes his luck with the girls.

Republished with permission from Leah Lays London. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.