The Bet - Quit Smoking, Win My Body Ch. 02

"Got taken to the doc when I was a teenager. Two options -- get the cut, or promise to take it out a couple times a day and wash carefully. I saw it as a big fuck-you to the Church, then -- playing with myself upon doctors orders! No regrets." He pauses. "Do I get my reward for not smoking, now?"

"You mean, please suck my cock?"

"Aye." He pauses. "Please."

Given I'm quite happy to oblige, I get between his legs and kneel down to bring my face to his crotch. He'll get a good view of my cleavage, too. Time to enjoy this new cock, nibbling

up the sides, licking round the head, managing to take the whole head in my mouth, playing with the ridge underneath it. He's an appreciative recipient, gasping and moaning when he particularly likes what I'm doing, getting increasingly vocal.

The words die into inarticulate sounds, which I take as warning to grip the base of his cock so it can't choke me. The flood in my mouth has less of a whisky flavour than I'd hoped for -- smoke does make both cock and come taste better, but I'd best not tell him that -- so I swallow, followed by a quick swig from my glass. Great improvement.

Adrian clinks his glass against mine. "Cheers." He sets the empty tumbler down. "Lovely as your get-up is -- those stretchy scarlet knickers over the black, especially -- you're overdressed, love."

"Aw. Clothed female, naked male not your thing, then? That's not what Diane said..."

"You're not Diane. Nothing like. Just as well, that'd be too much of a mindfuck... Let's be straight here, if anyone's being submissive out of the two of us, it ain't me."

"Fair enough. Help with the catches, would you?" I roll over to let him reach. I wonder if he's been with other women since Diane, and ask.

"Not in my bed, no."

I'd hazard that meant some in clubs or elsewhere, but either way, this is something a bit novel for him. I'm not going to joke about that. Or get him thinking about Diane. We're on the same page here -- I'm not trying to be her.

I stand up to peel off the stockings, knickers, and bra, and turn to him to let him admire what he's earned.

"Gorgeous. And majestic." I think majestic means tall with big tits, which I can't really argue with. "And nice..." He strokes over my pubes, trimmed neatly but still in existence. I took the advice of the unanimous lads at college -- anyone who gets as far as finding out whether you have pubic hair isn't going to complain unless they're a total tosser.

If you're in a relationship, you can express an opinion, but not a demand. The only opinions I've ever heard are "don't give a toss, it's your hair, just prefer not scratchy."

And then Ade curls his fingers round towards my wet cunt.

"Ah, man! You're magic! We really should have done this ten, fifteen years ago."

"No, we shouldn't! You were still a complete pisshead, fucked up beyond mere amateur intervention." Fifteen years ago was the height of my receiving drunken phone calls in the middle of the night. There's no way an offer of sex would have fixed him. Months of expensive psychotherapy was needed, then.

"I was a quare eejit, an' all."

"Yup. Totally. Come on, make up for it now."

"Oh? What did ye have in mind?"

"You're a bright lad. I'm sure you can think of something."

He flexes his fingers inside me. "I know I can, sweetheart, but I want to be hearing the filthy words out of your sweet posh mouth..."

"You bastard."

He's not the first to like hearing my voice talking dirty. Luckily I'm quite happy doing it, in the right circumstances. "Go on, get that pretty Irish face of yours buried in my cunt. Get your tongue on my clit and show me what you can do with your talented wee mouth... yeah, that's a good start... lie on my leg so I don't kick you..."

There's nothing like receiving good oral sex from someone enthusiastic about doing it, and Ade for sure is happily getting his tongue in there, showing off, while he explores all my folds and creases and sensitive spots. It's a great way to spend half an hour, lying back and letting him get stuck in, letting my body twitch and quiver as it will. He soon realises I wasn't joking about my legs jerking uncontrollably, and shifts my ankles so he can settle his bodyweight above them.

"Oh, yeah... love you holding me down..."

He raises his head momentarily. "I could tie your arms down, too, if you like."

"That won't be necessary. Another time, maybe. Don't let me distract you..."

He's using his fingers now, carefully pulling the hood away from my clit to get his lips in there, sloshing saliva round where it's extra sensitive, sucking that hypersensitive nub delicately so that I'm not quite screaming, just gasping with every tongue-stroke.

Ade speaks again. "The sound-proofing in this place is first-class. This room only backs onto the stairs, with double-skin fire-proof walls. So, y'know, feel free to make a noise..."

He returns to his fine work, adding a couple fingers inside me, pressing systematically in different spots to see what has greatest effect. As I've often told Dave, engineers make the best lovers! He finds a place to rub which has me moaning, then shifts up to hold my thighs in place while he intensifies what's happening to my clit.

I feel it. That vibration all through my arsehole and pelvis as my muscles give in and relax. I have to yell out. No words, just emotion. I know I'm bucking up against his face.

"Steady on," he mumbles as his nose gets bruised. He grabs my wrists to help hold me more still as I'm frantically moving against him, shrieking as his face remains buried between my legs. That extra constraint triggers a total loss of control, me screaming breathlessly, panting, shaking, and finally collapsing, covered in sweat and my own gushing juices.

Ade wipes his chin on my leg. He lies beside me in the knowledge of a job well done.

"Good?"

"You know it was. Stop fishing for compliments, you crafty bugger."

"Men have delicate wee egos, you know."

"It was most satisfactory."

"Better than Will?"

I crack up laughing. "A lady does not divulge such information -- shut it! I imagine he's improved since he was twenty -- you'd be best off asking Lindsey!"

"What? 'Come on Linz, gimme a chance to prove I'm better at cunnilingus than your hubby?' I can see that! She'd be at me with a frying pan, sooner than you can say Bob's your uncle!"

"You'll just have to die in ignorance, then. Poor you."

"Fuck off. You give impressive reactions, you do. You want more?"

"Course. Easy on the poor old clit for now, though."

"OK. No flicking the bean this minute." He puts his fingers back in my vagina, adds a third, watching my face. "You really might be fistable, mightn't you?"

"Mm. Never had a man do it."

"A woman? S'pose that would be easier."

"You've got fairly small hands. D'you have lube?"

"Is the Pope fuckin' Catholic?" He pulls open a bedside drawer. There's two large pump bottles of Liquid Silk, one near empty. Suggests he's getting some regular action, but I don't comment. "D'you want me to wear a glove?"

"Nah. Every mil counts."

"Fair enough. You trot off the bathroom, have a wee piss, I'll trim me nails... What? Off you go, I don't want any UTIs on my watch, thank you. Just because I'm mainly fucking men nowadays doesn't mean I've forgotten everything about female anatomy! Sheesh!"

I'll humour him. I could do with a wee, anyway.

I return to find he's not only clipped his nails but is buffing them to perfect curves. What a gent!

"A'right? Have a bit more of your wee drink. You lay back there nice, and we'll see what we can do for you, eh?"

It's rather like feeling all cared for at the hairdresser's. Only without that fear of looking silly for weeks, afterward.

I prop pillows behind my back and get into the most relaxed position I can. He's slicking up his hand generously, making clear it's usually been a different orifice when he's done this, then slides three fingers deep inside me, stretching my cunt round his knuckles.

He raises an eyebrow at me, cheekily. "Good so far?"

"Oh yeah -- wriggle round -- now that's good.. Yeah, I like how you're pushing there -- gentle -- yeah -- oh yeah..."

My feedback dwindles into tiny nods and clenches of my lips, as slowly, slowly, he slides the width of his palm forward. He gestures to the side of the bed.

"Poured you another. You want to be relaxed as you can get."

"No shit. I have done this before, you know."

"Not with a man's hand, you said."

"Yours are narrow enough, I'm sure." Not really bigger than Becky's.

"Aye, well, if you've never had something wider than a cock in you in the last couple years, I'm being careful, all right doll?"

I can't help sniggering. He takes advantage to slide slightly forward as my pelvis relaxes. "What?"

"Some toys are quite large... Inflatable, even."

"Uh-huh." I think he's pushed in a bit further. "I don't need to worry about your tender virgin arse next month, is that what you're telling me?"

There's many things one could say about my arse, but virgin and tender aren't among them. Unless I've just endured an excellent play session, but that's different.

"Really, not." I laugh at him. "Sorry, did you think you were getting to deflower me?" I'm giggling now, which is helping the bases of his fingers move into me, as I can't control myself.

"Doubt you'd have offered that up to daft wee me! Just, there's a long distance between 'done anal once' and 'total size queen'..."

"Yeah, well, the latter may be closer, but I'm no porn star with superhuman abilities, all right?"

"Nah. You're better." That cat-got-cream grin, again. He looks back at his own hand and he's moving his thumb in for the kill, as it were, interspersing that with rubbing circles round my clit to turn me into jelly again.

His slow sleazy smile grows even bigger as he tucks his thumb into his palm where his curved hand has created a little space, and slides further. He's got the widest part of his hand in already; this is just moving from two to three dimensions, now.

Every part of my vaginal wall is being pushed against, as I'm becoming filled up. My pelvic bones are being pressed on. Every knuckle and joint of his hand is pushing against nerve endings all round my cunt. I have to let go any control of my bladder, persuade my glute muscles to go slack, and just lie back and accept.

It's so worth it.

Eventually, I detect pressure upwards round my opening that must be the base of his thumb. It's pushing up against the bone there like it's going to crack me in two, but carefully, easing that transition, preparing to pop me neatly apart like a chocolate Easter egg. There's squelching noises. I'm the casing round a growing plant seed, getting fuller and fuller: his hand's going to grow and I'm going to explode around it.

He's stopped moving.

"We're sucking diesel, now. How 'bout ye, doll? How you doing?"

I breathe, in and out, regaining awareness of my body. I suck air and a sip of this damn fine whisky. Exhale.

"I'm grand. There's a bloke's hand in my cunt."

"Aye, that there is. You ready, sweetie?"

I sigh happily. "When you are. Slow and gentle, please."

"Of course." He's playing up the accent now. "Ah take care of all my toys."

Slowly, carefully, he bends his fingers downwards, to make a fist.

It's gone from stretching me widthways in various places, to one large three-dimensional stretch, the ball of his fist snugly sitting beyond my sensitive tight entrance where the nerve endings are. What I'm going to feel is the force of my flesh pushing outwards rather than his hand itself, while his wrist slides over the reactive entrance of my pussy like it's a giant cock.

He rolls his fist around, carefully, knuckling so many places that feel so good, then -- finally -- begins to leisurely fuck me with his hand. It's like the ball in a ball-and-socket joint is a wonderful cock, while also being fucked with a cock, but at the same time also being filled to the brim with a giant cock. Overflowing with cock. Only bigger.

Each tiny movement causes sensation over the entirety of my pelvis, every press into my flesh is making me moan in delight.

It's amazingly intense. I'm literally a puppet on the end of his hand, being played with, filled with sensations throughout, every single nerve below my waist being stimulated and alerted.

All I can do is purr while it happens to me, gasping for more air, rolling around this limb I've encompassed. I feel we've become one body in a much more meaningful sense than your typical beast with two backs.

Content that he's not breaking me, Ade rolls his fist a bit more and punches with it, fucking me, a bit harder and deeper.

"Ohhhh... so good, yeah..."

"Hell yeah, doll. Keep 'er lit!"

Finally he's fucking me as firmly as he might with his cock, bruising my insides with that thrusting force; only a couple inches of movement, but that feeling of invasion, being penetrated by something so huge and being filled up so totally, giving up every bit of space over to his arm, letting him control my central womanliness -- the mental effect of surrender to this giant shaft is as intense as the physical. I'm groaning with every movement, whispering because I can't speak, "don't stop don't stop don't stop..."

I'm crying out incoherently as my body rocks helplessly all round his hand, me-the-puppet turning into his rag doll, my moans of pleasure turning to cries of frustration, and, at last, satisfaction. When he collapses, his arm exhausted, I'm crying again, from the loss.

We lie still for some time, spent.

Eventually, there's a voice against my thigh.

"You still alive up there?"

I manage a tired chuckle. "Yeah. You?"

"If me arm drops off and I can't work come Monday, it's your fault."

"Typical. Blame the woman! I just lay down here, next thing I know my cunt's being invaded..."

"Oh man, I love it when you say cunt..."

So I state the obvious, for effect. "Your arm's in my cunt."

"Aye, it is. Should I remove it?"

"Suppose you'll have to, sometime. Try."

The pressure on the ring of bone is too much. He stops. I instruct him before he panics, just in case.

"Slide backwards so gravity's on our side, yeah, get on the floor, you. Now I can bear down and push you out... one, two, three... oh, my god!"

There's a blurt and a farting noise and a huge amount of sticky liquid, but his hand pops out painlessly, leaving me horrifyingly and yawningly empty.

I feel better after a rest in his arms.

"Ah well, no guarantees, but see if that extra blood flow and your juices help Dave's wee sperms."

"I don't care if they don't. That was..." So intimate, is the word I'm looking for, but I'm embarrassed to say it.

"Anyone would think being friends for twenty years made sex better."

"Knowledge is power."

"Mm. Gives confidence, too," he adds.

"What do you mean?"

"Eh. Well, now, if I can do stuff like what we've just done, you might be willing to keep me hanging around your mates..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, man!" I haul myself onto my side so I can glare at him properly. "Adrian Cullinane, you've been a friend to us for years! Helping me through our physics courses, driving us about, sitting back in the corner making your deadpan comments. Letting Ali kip on your sofa, organising meals, just bloody being there, when it counts!"

He gives a little shrug, like he half-believes what I'm saying.

"Don't you get all maudlin on me. It's not just because you were on our course. Think of the guys we purposely don't see, not to mention the ones who've drifted away. You're a mate, no matter what!"

I pause, more for effect than just getting my breath, and carry on lecturing him. "Course, if you want to do stuff like this again, that sounds like the sort of hobby we could hang out and do together. Just like going round to Will's for his latest culinary extravaganza, or watching films with Stu. If you and your bloke are happy with that, but that's on you guys."

Ade nods. "A hobby. Sure." He doesn't mention Dan, though I referred to the guy on purpose just then. That's probably a good thing?

We stay lying in bed, chatting about this and that, until I need to get dressed and leave.

"You get safe home, and I'll be thinking of you shagging Dave."

"Pervert." It's not an insult.

"Aye, and that's why you love me, in a perfectly platonic way."

Given people usually equate platonic with sexless, this startles me, but I realise he's right, as he so often is. Platonic love, just with extra activities.

"Yeah, I do. I'll be off, then, sweetie. See you in a month!" Possibly even before -- we could have dinner, I'll grill him on his man. A warm hug, a kiss on the forehead, and I head off. home.

Ahh, that was nice. Touch wood, him and this Dan guy are getting on rather well. Another relationship would be good for him, I think.

I arrive home, and enjoy Dave, though I have to make him be more gentle than usual. It's nice to have a bit of a change.

Next morning I annotate my planner, aiming to get Ade round for a meal. I've got loads of work and quite a few social things on already, so it'll likely be after our fuck, at this rate. It's always good, getting him over. Back in the day, it was his train-wreck life providing entertainment value. Then we all got more civilised, me and Dave just gossiping into the wee hours with him, him and Diane, then just Ade again as he slowly got some of his humour back, after.

We pencil in a couple dates. Then I get a message on the Friday. 'Recovered yet? Ah well, youve got a month.'

I reply, 'Naturally resilient. I was squeezing Dave's dick just fine by Monday.' That's bit of an exaggeration, but what the hell. Keep him thinking good happy thoughts and we're both looking forward to next time.