In blinding, thick, wet fog, at the extreme end of a long seaside jetty, I got to experience one of those moments that becomes a lifetime memory; a blow job that I could not see, but could feel all the way down to my core. A thrilling, intense, grab your soul, shake you to your core blow job administered by a lady who is of Olympic stature in the art of sucking cock.
And this wonderful blow job will be remembered for another reason as well. In the pea-soup fog, unable to see, I was unaware that I had painted Sarah’s face and top of her head with ribbons of white goo. Sarah, on the other hand, obviously knew that I had cum all over her face. Before we tried to make our way back to the shore, she had wiped off most, but not all of my seed, using the sleeve of her wet sweater.
Happy to have made it back to land, and desperately needing warmth and a shower, we marched through the Inn’s indoor bar, past the front desk, and up the main staircase to our room. I thought the young man at the front desk and the husband and the young couple on the stairs had looked at us with an odd stare. Then again, I did not think much of it as we both were drenched, looking like we had just walked out of a shower fully clothed.
Only at the door to our room did I realize that Sarah had walked past more than a few people while prominently displaying bands of white cum from the middle of her forehead up and over the top of her head.
Once in our room and facing a mirror, Sarah’s initial reaction was one of amusement, roaring with laughter. Then she was embarrassed, wondering who had seen her on the way back to the room. Then even more embarrassment as she thought about seeing those same people the next day.
I thought it was funny, and have that image of Sarah with white streaks in her hair burned into my memory. Then again, I wasn’t the one with cum all over my head.
Sarah removed her wet clothes, showered, and returned to the room with her hair in a towel and wearing a terry cloth robe provided by the Inn. I would have joined her in the shower but for the antique bath tub, the kind with a shower curtain that pulls all the way around the tub. With nothing to hold onto but the curtain, it would be a dangerous act for two people to be in the tub at the same time, especially with all the grabbing and groping that would inevitably take place.
As I walked back into the room after my shower, I was confronted with Sarah sitting up in the canopied bed, the bed covers over her legs, and her bare breasts and hard nipples prominently displayed.
The look on her face said it all; a little, playfully-subtle smile, the tip of her tongue just running over her upper lip, the flushed cheeks, and those soft, but inviting eyes. It was Sarah’s cum-fuck-me I need some attention look. That stare always has and still does send shivers up my spine.
Despite having spewed gobs of cum out on the jetty, I had recovered and was displaying a prominent erection under the towel that was wrapped around my waist. I dropped the towel as I walked toward the bed, my shaft waggling back and forth; Sarah pulled the covers back, inviting me to join her. The delicate aroma of Sarah’s lavender soap rose up and enveloped me, adding to my need for her, body and soul.
The room was cool with a hint of the dampness brought in by the thick fog, and only partly lit by a small table lamp and the light from the bathroom. Being under the sheets and quilt on a canopied bed, next to Sarah’s warm, soft, silky skin, was like being in a nest; cozy, warm and comforting.
Sarah rolled over so she was partially on top of me, and buried her tongue down my throat. My stiff rod slipped between her legs and met the wetness of her pussy. I fondled her breast with my fingers, paying close attention to her hard nipple.
Sarah, knowledgeable about such things, knew that my having cum first would calm me, at least to the point where I would last longer before a second orgasm, allowing me more time to pleasure her. But her efforts at the end of the jetty had also taken their toll on an already weary lady.
While I contemplated whether to be rough and hard, which she liked, or to be slow and teasing, which she also liked, Sarah had already made her choice.
“Go slow. I’ll cum too quick if you do too much,” she whispered.
The bed covers were thrown back, exposing our bodies to the cool air. Neither of us would notice the chill, however, as the heat of our bodies grew quickly with our rising passion.
Sarah had beautiful, tear drop shaped tits which were just the right size for her body. Each breast had perfectly round, brown areola, covered on this night with a few goose bumps, and a hard, extended nipple.
I rolled her nipples around between my fingers and thumb, pinching tightly, as our tongues skirmished in combat. Her soft moans were deep and already guttural.
“Suck on them.”
I did what she asked, sucking on and biting her nipples as she held my head in a vice-like grip with both her arms.
We were soon in a wonderful zone of mutual pleasure. Our bodies were intertwined; I played with breasts and nipples, and she held my hard shaft, which she slowly stroked. The sloppy, wet tongue battle had become more passionate; wet and messy.
I could feel Sarah’s pleasure slowly build and my shaft ooze pre-cum onto her talented hand.
“Fuck me.”
“Not yet.”
I was in no hurry. I did not have the immediate need for orgasmic relief that Sarah was seeking. And there were so many other things I wanted to do; so many places to explore; so many sounds and noises still to be heard.
What I had not yet perceived was how tired she was. It was at the end of a long week of travel for her, sleeping in hotels, packing and unpacking, and she had driven for several hours to meet me at the Inn.