Eye Contact

by GentleButFirm

Copyright© 2003 by GentleButFirm

Sex Story: It's a one-twist story, but...<br>And it's short, so maybe you could just read it. Yeah? Cool, because I don't want to give anything away.

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   .

Maggie's legs gracefully draped over my shoulders, her knees almost in contact with her own firm spectacularly nippled breasts. Her slim tanned body was highly flexed at the hips, her moist and beautiful flower open and eager for my advances. As my hands tucked under her shoulder blades to orchestrate the penetration, my role as impaler was clearly defined as our genitals met, my rigidity forcing its way tightly in, slippery but firm, and our eyes locked... No, no!

Hold on a minute. That's not the way it was. Not quite. Oh, all the 'nipple', the 'impale', God, even the 'rigidity'. That's all spot on. But the thing is, well, it was our eyes. They didn't meet. Not close. She didn't even look at me, and that's the truth. Really.

Now I should have just ignored that and carried on, and thought no more of it, shouldn't I?. Oh, I continued alright. Got stuck right in and shagged her silly, made her come like an express train. Her nerves were popping like porridge bubbles in a hot saucepan, and she made a phenomenal noise with her head back, screaming like a bandsaw. I suppose she thought it was great. In fact, I'm sure she did.

The thing is, and you'd better keep this to yourself, I couldn't you-know-what. You do so. Come. Orgasm. Get-my-rocks-off. Nope. And that sure as hell hasn't happened to me before. Well, except for that time when I was seventeen. I'd spent the weekend at home with a glossy magazine, an overactive imagination, and my right hand, and I think I overdosed. Somewhere around Sunday afternoon, it all stopped working. Bloody thing was all rubbed raw, so I guess it served me right. But it was different this time. I hadn't been on the case for a month or so, at least not with another person, and it certainly hadn't been overworked.

Anyway, after Maggie finished screaming and digging her fingernails into my back, I gently removed it, and just sat there looking at the little traitor, and wondered what to do next. You gotta hand it to that girl, she knew what she was about. She promptly crawled down the bed, and took to it with her tongue. Hell of a talent she had. Her mouth was all over my guy, licking, kissing, sucking. Her tongue was almost prehensile. You know what that means, right? Anyway, though it felt great, and it never went soft, we just never got there. She kept at it for ages, but eventually she had to come up for air, and I was so embarrassed that I sent her home. She told me it didn't matter, that it happened to everyone sometime, and that we should try again another night. I told her I'd call her, but I knew I couldn't ever bring myself to.

So there I was. My slowly drooping member was all sticky from Maggies work, but somewhat uninterested in proceedings. I decided that I needed to get my mind off the problem for a while, and it was still fairly early, so I put my clothes on and went back down to a local bar, intending to drown my sorrows in a few large glasses, preferably alone. When I got there though, I met up with an old friend, by the name of Mary. The two of us had been lovers for a while, a couple of years ago. Well, not really lovers. Mary had a very attentive area between her legs, and that was the bit I loved. Crass I know, but there it is. Anyway, Mary and I had a few drinks, and then somehow I blurted out to her about how I had been unsuccessful in the act. I dragged out the whole sorry story about the failure of my old fellow. I didn't tell her about the eye contact thing though. I was still mulling that over.

Anyway, much to my surprise, Mary took the news as a challenge, and as is common with inebriated friends, we decided that we could solve the problems of the world on the night. Or if that didn't work out, at least we could get each other off, just like the old days. So I swallowed my last beer, and we caught the late train to her apartment, and stumbled around until she remembered she had put her key in her bra for safe-keeping. One of the neighbours poked his nose out to see what all the noise in the hallway was, and he got an eyeful of Mary's cute breasts as she not-so-delicately removed the key. I'd forgotten how Mary's exhibitionist tendencies were directly linked to her alcohol consumption, and the next thing I knew, she was wriggling out of her skirt, and showing off her barely clad body to the incredulous neighbour. We both watched silently for a while as the impromptu strip show continued. I put a stop to the proceedings when she turned around and bent over to give him a close-up view of her bum. Her panties had fallen to her knees by this time, and my equipment was reacting the way it normally does. I wanted to take advantage of both Mary and the situation before it was too late.

Dragging her inside, giggling and collapsing in my arms, I put her down on the bed, and returned to the hallway to collect her belongings. My erection was patently obvious through my trousers by now, so I was glad the neighbour had disappeared. I threw her stuff on the floor inside, locked the door, and headed back to the bedroom, only to find that Mary had fallen sound asleep, sexily sprawled on the sheet, her most private parts on display, but her interest in procreation having disappeared. I probably looked disgusted, but that's because I was. Looking at her a little longer, but knowing I couldn't make much use of her now, without being even more crass than usual, I wandered out to the lounge, and then remembered that Mary had a supply of sexy videos hidden in her room, so I returned and grabbed a couple of them, and went and sat in front of the television, and watched the first video.

The 'story' involved an unreasonably well endowed stud with the job of keeping a Sultan's harem happy while their beloved was away on business. A ridiculous premise, coupled with appalling acting, and dubious acrobatics. Nonetheless, I soon found the movie of great interest, and had my trousers unzipped in no time. Stroking myself with reckless abandon, I was right on the verge of spraying the floor in front of the sofa when I remembered about Maggie, and the eye contact thing. Suddenly the urge was gone, and I was heading for the droop again. Frantically (and uselessly) attempting to think about something else, I tried to concentrate on the pumping couple on the screen, and think about Mary's hallway gyrations, but I couldn't get away from the memory of Maggie with her eyes closed. Eventually, I gave up on it all again, turned off the TV, and lay down on the sofa to sleep. A long, long time later I succeeded.

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