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Impulse, Part Eight

With a few condoms in hand, I rejoined Rex upstairs. We were back at it in a few moments, Rex slipping two fingers inside me while he bit on my ear. He leaned up and pulled out his cock, pumping his hand over it before asking, “now, can you suck this?” I thought I could hear a tiny bit of the kind of condescension I like.

The sex was simple, urgent. He shoved my legs up to my chest and we stayed like that after we finished. Still inside me, he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“Well, hi.” I said.

“Hey there.” He chuckled. 

We stayed like that and talked. It was almost comical, doing that sort of small talk after we’d already fucked, playing out the whole flirtation thing backwards. He played with my hair while I talked about myself. We discovered we both came from the same place before we’d moved here, that we both worked in the same field. We had mutual friends in our old city. It was bizarre.

And, yeah, when we were back up on our feet, he asked for my number. Thankfully, I got smart and gave him my phone, telling him to put his name in it. Which is, you know, how I discovered his name was Rhett and not Rex. I stood between his legs while he sat and he added me to his phone as well, one hand typing the number and the other resting on my butt.

“Wait a minute,” Rex said as I was pulling my skirt by on. “Can I take a picture of you?”

I turned to him. “Really? Why?”

He shrugged. “It’s something I’ve always done after significant or interesting things.” 

“What, this is significant and interesting?” I teased.

“Well, yeah.” Rex replied. It was his first play party in this new city. 

I looked away and straightened my posture. “Keep my face out of it.”

Impulse, Part Six

Standard

“We should, ah, we should maybe do something later,” I said to the guy on the couch who had kissed me while I was blindfolded. He looked a bit older than me, blond, a bit mischievous-looking (though considering the context, this made sense.) He was rather tall, though I had deduced as much when blindfolded from how I had to tilt my head to kiss him. When I propositioned him like that, in possibly the vaguest way possible, he – and a few other people around the circle – laughed. “Uh,” I added, “what’s your name?”

I was blushing. Pup was cracking up next to me.

The guy on the couch said his name, but I totally misunderstood it. (For the purposes of anonymity on the Internet, let’s say his name was Rhett and I misheard it as Rex. It was that level of like close-sounding names.) And rather than asking him to repeat himself I was like, internally, ok I think I heard Rex let’s just go with that but maybe don’t call this person by his name right away in case you’re really wrong.

People continued drawing cards around the circle. I watched Pup give a guy a pretty righteous spanking from a dare on the guy’s card, as well as saw him go to town licking this girl’s toes. I mean, the entire group was sort of speechless and transfixed watching it. Otherwise, there were kisses, slaps, massages. When it was “Rex”’s turn, he drew a card that had him share the craziest place he’d ever had sex. And though the location was pretty wild, it didn’t give much indication as to whether he fell more into the category of “swinger” or “kinkster.” After all, the whole kissing thing could have been because he wasn’t actually into hurting people or humiliating them.

When my own turn came up, I thought I might have the chance to see. Instead, I drew a requisite “check-in” card, which I am ***NOT COMPLAINING*** about because checking in is super important during an activity like this. But I got my opportunity when “Rex” drew a card and smirked.

“So, it says to have three minutes ‘in heaven’ with another person in front of the group. Any takers?” he asked. He was looking right at me.

I pretended to be all easy-going and raised my hand, saying, “oh, I’d be down.” But internally I was like: