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Claire sinks deeper into the mire.
I heard later, years later, actually, that he had come out, but that it had been messy and quite a few hearts were broken in the process. I dodged a bullet.
The guy after Ed was actually the first American I'd slept with. Apart from myself, I guess. If masturbation counts. (I'm kidding.) The guy was studying in London for a year and was two years older than me. He played basketball, was about my height, tall, toned, black and with really incredible warm brown eyes. We ended up in my room one night and I kissed him, softly but with a firm edge in it to let him know what I wanted. His name was Lewis and he wanted the same thing. I felt a sizable erection beginning to grow in his pants and we moved over to my bed. He began smoothly unzipping my crotch and unbuckling my belt.
"Thank fuck, man," he smiled. "I've wanted this since the first time I met you."
"Me too," I responded, as his hand slipped in to my boxers, made flesh contact with my dick and began to expertly massage it to full salute. This felt incredible. Lewis dropped down, as he fished my cock out of my pants, and I yanked my top up off over my head. His mouth was warm, wet and it definitely did not belong to a novice. He began moving up and down, his eyes gazing up as me as my raging boner slipped in and out of his lips.
"Fuck! That feels good," I complimented. "Fuck, Lewis. That's incredible."
"I want it in my ass," he purred. This was an unexpected side of him. Out in public, he was fairly quiet, well-mannered and confidently masculine. In bed though, he was sultry, seductive and downright slutty. I liked that. I've always respected a guy who can cut loose in the bedroom, but has respect for himself outside of it. I liked Lewis and ran my hands across his head appreciatively.
"Don't worry. You'll get it," I promised, "after a bit more of this. You give great fucking head, dude."
A pleased smile flashed across Lewis's face and he dived back onto my penis. He slurped and slobbered over it, but never took his eyes off my face as he did so. I was going to give him the fuck of his life. That's why he wanted and he'd earned it.
"Get on your back," I commanded. Lewis pulled himself off my dick and as I moved down the bed, he moved up it. "Legs in the air," I said, in the same tone. He complied and I flicked my tongue across his puckered asshole. He purred slightly above me, as I began to tongue it properly. I love rimming; I always have. It's warm and intense, personal and sordid. As my tongue began to slip further and further into Lewis's dilating hole, I felt his toes curl in the air above me. I smirked and pulled my head away to spit on him before gently pushing the spit inside him with my finger. He let out a gasp and a whispered, "Fuck, yes," and I decided to mess with him. All in the name of bedroom fun.
"You still want my dick, Lewis?" I taunted, moving my finger in and out of him.
"Yes," he replied; his eyes closed.
"More than this finger." In. Out. He nodded and bit his lip.
"How much do you want it?" In. Out. In. Out.
"So much. Please."
I reached over to the bedside table and rustled around for some condom and lube. Once I'd sheathed up and cover myself with lube, I began to slowly ease into him. A contented look spread across Lewis's face and I leaned down to kiss him once I'd buried myself, balls-deep, inside him. Our tongues pressed slowly against one another and I felt his asshole contract around my cock a bit; I wondered if he was doing it on purpose. If he was teasing me and pleasuring me.
"I've wanted you inside me since the first day I met you," he groaned, repeating his earlier point. "You're. So. Fucking. Hot."
I began to pick up my pace.