A Little More About O... Part 2

Under the shower, I thoroughly wash my ass and thighs, removing the remnants of semen mixed with some fragrant perfume, apparently used by Anton as lube. My thoughts are tangled around what happened—Anton, how could he? He took advantage of my condition, fucked me, I didn't want this! And me? Why didn't I wake up when he was putting it in? Why did I drink so much wine that I was still under the influence of a drunken stupor in the morning? Why didn't I break free when I felt him fucking me? What to do next? Leave? Go away? I never imagined my first sex like this at all! I calm down a bit and admit to myself that I experienced unusual, thrillingly pleasant sensations that

haven't let go of me to this day. And also, how will Anton behave when he comes to his senses? Maybe he won't remember—a faint hope flashed through my mind.

After the shower, I dry myself with a towel and bend over, turning my backside toward the large mirror, spreading my cheeks, arching to examine the state of my tingling hole. Contrary to expectations, I don't find any changes, except for a slightly swollen anal ring.

Wrapping myself in a towel, I go to the bedroom, where Anton is probably still sleeping, clearly having had too much yesterday, judging by the half-empty bottle of vodka on the table in the hall, besides those two bottles of wine we emptied together. In the bedroom, I'm enveloped by a sweetish smell of perfume and semen; on the nightstand by the bed, I notice a half-squeezed, unclosed tube of cream. I screw the cap back on and feel the now-familiar scent. Carefully, I crack open the window, but even the quiet sound disturbs Anton, and he, without waking up, turns onto his back. My gaze is magnetically drawn to the triangle of light, reddish hair in his groin, stopping at his slightly swollen, sleeping cock—long, seemingly twice as long as mine, covered in delicate velvety skin, concealing a small pinkish head peeking out slightly. I'm afraid to admit to myself that the sight of the cock that was inside me this morning and which, in a way, took my virginity—arouses and turns me on.

Taking underwear, shorts, and a fresh T-shirt from the shelf, I quietly, so as not to wake Anton, go out into the hall and get dressed. I remember that I need to prepare lunch for the construction workers, so I go down to the first floor to the kitchen-living room. I learned to cook from my mom; she knows how and loves to cook deliciously, and I always helped her with it. I look in the fridge, find everything I need, and decide that today I'll make goulash with pasta. I find a large pot and put the meat I found in the fridge to thaw. I put on a colorful apron that happened to be there so as not to dirty my T-shirt, tie the strings in a bow at my waist, find a cutting board, and start cooking. In the process, I painfully try to sort out my thoughts. The bustle at the stove distracts me a bit from my scattered reflections. I listen to my condition—my ass still retains a feeling of fullness, and the walls of the worked, swollen anus rub against each other, making me remember that I was recently fucked, and I also notice that because of this, when walking, I have to stick out my butt and sway my hips slightly.

The upcoming conversation with Anton is very stressful; judging by the sounds coming from the second floor, he's already woken up and is taking a shower. I hear him running down the stairs, entering the living room. I'm standing with my back to the stove, in a state of stupor, not knowing how to behave in this situation—after all, he fucked me while he was drunk. In a few steps, he's behind my back, lightly slaps my ass, and cheerfully exclaims:

— Valyukha, hello!

I was stunned—Valyukha!—I was always Valek to him!

— Anton, why did you do this to me? — my voice breaks, I feel my lips trembling, and tears well up in my eyes against my will.

— Valyechka, sweetie — he hugs me from behind, presses his lips to my neck, and covers it with kisses.

— Don't worry so much, everything is fine between us, you have no idea how cute you are — he whispers hotly in my ear, making me shiver from the tickling. We had a good time, didn't we? — Anton states more than asks.

— Well, tell me, you had a good time, didn't you? Say it, was it good?

— Good — I squeezed out uncertainly.

— Well, that's fine then, let's leave everything as it is!

— As it is? — I clarify.

— Well, we're good together, and no one—no one—will ever find out about this! — Anton assured me hotly, turned my face toward him with his palms, and began covering my lips, cheeks, and neck with short kisses. I pulled away in embarrassment, Anton hugged me once more, kissed my cheek—

— Gotta run, need to go to town, buy something for the construction.

— Valyechka, think about it until evening, how we should proceed... that's it, kisses, adieu! — he waved his hand at me and went out the door.

I mentally loaded—really, if this is a game and our relationship remains a secret, then why not accept this game and leave everything as it is? Especially since I enjoy the new sensations... .

My reflections are interrupted by a knock on the door; Arif—the foreman of the construction workers—came in with his assistant to pick up the food I prepared.

I went upstairs to the bedroom, deciding to lie down after the shocks of this day and, if possible, take a nap.

I wake up from the sensation of a wet kiss on my lips, seeing Anton's sparkling eyes. Pulling away from my lips, he asks:

— Well, what have you decided? — Overcoming a feeling of awkwardness, I simply answer

— Yes!

— Just yes yes? — Anton asks again. I answer once more—

— Yes.

Anton scoops me up in his arms and spins me around the bedroom. Then he puts me down on the floor and says

— Then I have a gift for you! And he runs downstairs. He returns with a beautifully wrapped bag.

— Here, while I go to the construction workers, I'll be back in about half an hour, I want something from this to be on you!

I wait until he leaves and open the bag. In the bag are several soft bundles and one small one with hard contents. I open the soft ones first; a black silk lace lingerie set spills onto the bed. I sort it by items—panties with an open back and a dense triangle in the front, with small lace frills on the sides and front, stockings, a garter belt with suspenders, a short top with zero darts, and a short lace nightgown. The second set is in the same style, only white; in addition to this—a yellow, also silk, short kimono with pink dragons. In the last small bag, I found two bottles: a fairly large one, about 250 grams, black, with a dispenser spout and incomprehensible inscriptions in Arabic script, and a small one, about the thickness of a finger, on which I read the inscription: "perfume with pheromones."

Running my hands over the lace silk, I get slightly aroused. I take off my underwear, shorts, and T-shirt, scrutinizing myself in the mirror. Not thin and not fat, with not very developed, flat shoulder and arm muscles, a flat stomach. My thighs and buttocks, pumped up during my acrobatics period, are well-developed and since then have rounded out a bit, become heavier, and look quite feminine, emphasizing the characteristic transition from waist to hips. I quickly take a shower, return to the bedroom, and put on the panties Anton brought, choosing the black ones, and the same garter belt with stockings. I complete the outfit with the top, which exposes my stomach. I examine myself intently in the mirror and see a girl with beautiful body lines, a somewhat flat chest, full hips, and a round, neat butt. My new look is completed by gorgeous blond hair down to my shoulders, framing a fresh face with a neat nose, slightly puffy lips, and eyes of a bright greenish hue.

I catch myself starting to get aroused from the touch of the silk clinging to me and the visual effect of my own image in the mirror.

Oh wow! — I hear Anton's voice,

I feel blood rushing to my face—did he see or not see me spinning in front of the mirror?

— Open the perfume — Anton nods at the bottles I placed on the nightstand. I take the small bottle out of its transparent wrapper, open the glass stopper, and apply it with dabs behind my ears, on my neck, and slightly under my armpits, as my mom always did when getting ready for work. I feel myself surrounded by a cloud of pleasant, intoxicating scent.

— And what's this here? — I ask, pointing to the second large black bottle:

— That's for you and me — he smiles mysteriously, but I already understand what it is... .

— Put this on instead of a robe — he hands me the kimono, I put it on, tie the belt, and Anton, putting his arm around my waist, pulls me out of the bedroom. Going out into the hall, I discover a beautifully set table, fruit, grapes, a large bottle of champagne, two wine-filled glasses, and—a huge red rose in a thin, elongated vase in the center of the table.

— Do you like it? — Anton asked

— Yes, very much! — I whispered. For the first time in my life, I see a flower meant for me.

Anton sits me down on the sofa next to him; with excitement, I feel his thigh against mine, and glancing at the rose, I unexpectedly lean over and kiss him on the cheek. A treacherous wave of weightlessness rolls through my lower abdomen; I feel myself blushing and move away.

— To us! — raising his glass, Anton proclaims, and I, following him, bravely drink my glass of champagne to the bottom. Anton pours more and more; from the wine and the intoxicating scent of the perfume, the surrounding reality slows down and for some period of time turns into blurred, living pictures. We talk about something, Anton tells jokes, we laugh loudly together, then the champagne runs out, we open wine from the supplies, drink to brotherhood, kiss—Anton takes my hand and softly presses my open palm to his groin. Through his shorts, I feel his not yet fully swollen cock, stroke it through the fabric, then try to slip my hand under the shorts, but due to the tied strings, I don't get enough space. I lean over, untie the strings, and pull his shorts down to his knees. Anton kicks his legs and drops them on the floor. I wrap my fingers around the warm shaft and begin to move the delicate velvety skin along it. Anton passionately takes my lips with his, sensually sucking and trying to penetrate between them with his tongue. I part my lips slightly and willingly accept his tongue deep into my mouth, gently sucking and touching it with the tip of my tongue. His cock under my hand fills up, begins to pulsate and harden, standing up straight. Anton pulls away from my lips, and I have the opportunity to examine the organ that excites me. How long it really is—flashes through my thoughts. Unable to restrain my desires, I bend over and cover this straight, even cock along its entire length with short kisses. Then I try to encircle its roundness with my lips and begin to move them along the back of the cock from the head to the pubis and back up.

I try to approach the cock from the inside; sitting on the sofa is inconvenient, so I change position, get on my knees, and finally reach the coveted target with my lips. The swollen head of the cock has already fully emerged from the foreskin—I rise to it and begin to gently work on it with my tongue. I see a round cave opening in the middle, and droplets of fluid begin to emerge from it. I take it all into my mouth and, gently sucking, caress the frenulum area with circular motions of my tongue. Anton runs his fingers through my hair and presses on the back of my head, trying to push his cock even deeper. I let it in a little more than halfway and begin to actively move my head, feeling the head pressing against my throat. I try to take it even deeper; the head unexpectedly slides in easily, and my nose presses against his pubis. Sticking my tongue out as far as possible, gasping for breath, I continue to make sweeping movements with my head, trying to touch my saliva-soaked scrotum with my outstretched tongue during the full deepthroat. Saliva streams down from the base of the cock, gathering in droplets on his pubic hair and falling further, forming a small puddle on the skin of the sofa.

Anton's breathing becomes noisy and intermittent; he spreads his thighs even wider, forcefully impaling my head on his cock by the back of my head, and energetically moves his pelvis. He begins to shake with a coarse tremor; understanding what's about to happen, I slightly pull my head back, leaving only the pulsating head in my mouth, and freeze in anticipation. Anton groans hoarsely, and from his sweet head, hot semen begins to shoot in pulsating streams into the sky of my mouth, suddenly turning into hot sparks that, in one, second, third wave, pass through every corner of my body, gather somewhere between the ring of my anus and my scrotum, and pour out in streams from my cock, making me convulse. My fingers dig into Anton's buttocks; I let out a thin moan, holding his softening cock in my mouth. I come to my senses when the already soft head slips out of my mouth, and I'm on my knees, burying my face in Anton's hot, wet groin, arching my back and sticking out my raised butt. The solid triangle of my panties is abundantly soaked, now with my own semen... .

Damn, I came so hard from the first blowjob I ever gave a man!!!

Anton is the first to come to his senses, helps me, completely exhausted, to get up from my knees. I take off my kimono, and we go to the shower together. While I struggle, pulling off the top, unclipping the stockings from the garter belt, and finally, the panties, the back opening of which hasn't been needed yet, Anton is already splashing under the shower. I climb in next to him and also wash myself thoroughly. We get out, dry ourselves with towels. Anton wraps a towel around his hips, and I put the kimono back on, barely covering my butt and my dick.

We're silent all this time, processing what happened. Anton sits on the sofa, pours wine into the empty glasses, and asks:

— Valyechka, what was that?

— I don't know, just like that, I just wanted to!

— Damn, our evening isn't over yet, and I'm already drained, no, sucked dry — Anton laughs.

I don't feel a drop of embarrassment or awkwardness! Today, I was an equal partner to my man and made him experience a powerful orgasm. No, not "I was," I correct myself, "I was"!

— I am," I correct myself once more, the whole night is still ahead!

To be continued.

Alexbacha, 2024