Nick wasn’t your stereotypical little dick, sissy boy who calls for strap on phone sex. No, Nick was into strap-on fucking, but he was all man. It was the only kinky thing he had listed on his profile, but that was enough to get me curious. I forgot to mention that Nick was ridiculously sexy, as well. We met at one of my favorite clubs, and that was where I found out what a damn fine dancer he was. His moves gave me all I needed to know about how he might fuck me when it was his turn to fuck me instead of me pegging him. The night out didn’t last long. We couldn’t keep our hands off of one another. We had to force ourselves to separate from our making out to breathe. I hadn’t been this aroused dancing with a man in quite some time. Nick asked me to take him to my bed.
I texted my roommate, and she left to go to her boyfriend’s place. When I got back with Nick, the place was empty, and the lights were dim. I pinned him against the door frame by the hall and licked up and around the shell of his ear. He moaned and reached for my ass under my dress. He purred in my ear when he felt the straps of my strap-on harness over my panties. We kissed and slowly made our way into my bedroom. Nick and I had strap on phone sex before we met for drinks, but it was so hot knowing I had him to fuck senseless. I unwrapped him layer by layer and started to paw at his hairy chest, and I straddled him, grinding my wet panties into his obviously hard dick through black pants. I wanted him to beg me for it. I wanted him undone.
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