Not the man for me but the lover I needed

This is the third blog post about my first story. I am new to this so bear with me while I learn what I am doing. I am going to try to link to the first part of my story right here. I hope it works. It worked, yes! Here is the second part of my story in case you missed it.

I am looking up at his dark eyes and features and wondering how I ended up here. This is not me, but I am not worried. He smiles and frowns at the same time and when I feel my face twist in fear that he will reject me, he falls into me and his lips are on mine. His arms aren't big but he is stronger much stronger than he looks and he scoops under me to hold me. We kiss forever. I don't know if I can ever remember a man kissing me like this. I usually like a little bit of foreplay but I don't even get that and this is beyond words. (Even though I am typing this from my hand written diary I remember it so clearly and it enters my fantasy even 6 months later.) If he just wanted to take off my clothes and have sex with me right away, I would be ready. With Paulo, I am crazy attracted to him but still we use lube just to keep things smooth. I wonder if Mr. B has condoms and lube and I wonder if I'll even need it. (I feel weird writing out of my diary and I hope I am not being too dirty).

He kisses me so good and puts his mouth everywhere where it was missing before. He kisses my cheeks and lips and my chin. He bites my cheekbone and does something to my neck by my ear that gives me goosebumps (as a Spanish woman I have a little tiny bit of body hair). He never touches me inappropriately, and I was worried it would be just kissing. Every time I try to grind on him or get him between my legs he pushes me away, holds me closer and kisses me more. It was driving me crazy.

Finally when he takes one of his regular steps back to admire my face and smile at me (which drove me crazy, is he done???) I am able to remove my dress. I was wearing thin capris under it because of the cold and I decided to remove those as well. He doesn't even look at my body, his arms go back to my touching my back while his face is pressed up against mine. I can smell myself in the air and feel a little embarassed and gross wondering if he thinks I am a slut or a whore or an easy lay. Not once yet did the fact that I want to have sex with a man other than Paulo cross my mind. He keeps kissing me, and his hands are on my hips and my stomach and my shoulders and on my hands, driving me crazy. When he pulled one hand from my hips, it glanced me where I needed him to touch me and I almost had an orgasm from the first touch. I know I shuddered. I know I had a tear roll down my face, not in sadness but in frustration.

Then his hands were on my knees and even near my ankles (how he reached I don't know), This man was going to tease me, so I tried to sneak my hand so I could touch myself and release this urge I haven't had before this strongly. He brutally knocked my hand away and every time I tried, he used more force to stop me. I hated Mr. B, I wanted to kick him in the head and just finish so badly. Every time I opened my eyes, he had this look of understanding. He KNEW I needed this. He wasn't going further though and it was driving me crazy. Again he is not my type. I prefer a strong man who pushes my boundaries, not a weak man who doesn't want to touch me. And yet here I was and I wanted this man. Maybe with the others I should use boy but I know he hates that comparison. I have been with men of all ages but none treating me like this. As I peak at his face, he becomes sexier and sexier to me. He is teasing me and he is in full control but I know I am the one driving the machine. I don't know how to explain it maybe like driving a big truck but having someone remotely controlling it without your knowledge?

I finally blurt it out when his hand glances me over my underwear again. I ask him if he will make love to me. I never say make love, I am usually a lot more graphic in bed, but those words came out. I look at his face with a sadness and he sternly says yes. He tells me to take his clothes off and I get them off in just a few moments. I am soaking and there is a spot on his beautiful soft dark green sheets. While he removes his socks, I take off my panties and I am naked but completely comfortable. I finally get to look at his package and I was surprised. A man this confident and in control should have something gigantic. His was average but pretty thick. I don't really have a preference, but big guys hurt me a lot because it is always fast and furious and over.

I looked at it like a thing of beauty. It stood tall and looked amazing with the light from his kitchen coming in a little bit. Paulo doesn't like oral sex but I didn't even ask Mr. B. I put it in my mouth and gagged a few times as it grew even thicker than before. I have big Spanish female hands (no Seinfeld jokes, please!) and I couldn't touch my pointing finger to my thumb. Still, I tried harder to get it all into my mouth and I could tell it made him happy. I gagged so many times but tried to hide it by exhaling before I went down again. He was watching me with that penetrating look. I wanted to please him even if it means he wouldn't be able to touch me. It is in thanks somewhat but also I wanted to see him pleased. I felt released when I finished my talk, my 6 hour long talk. I took his hand from my shoulder and put it on my hair and tried to make him grab my hair.

He understood and immediately grabbed tight. I've never been raped or assaulted before but what he did to me was more aggressive than anyone else. He pulled and pushed at my hair, forcing himself into and out of my throat, slow but hard enough to keep me from the possibility of gagging. I almost had an orgasm again just from the brutality of his anger in my mouth and down my throat. His hips didn't thrust at all, it was all force of his really strong hands and arms. I work out and even lift weights but Mr. B would pin me and do what he wanted to do to me and there is no way I could fight him. He has such skinny arms but his strength must come from within.

After 10 minutes of him forcing my face to his stomach, he told me he was getting close. I'm not sure if that was a warning, but I didn't push away. I'm not sure if he would have let me as his hands pushed me harder but slower until he finished in my mouth. There was so much of it that I gagged at each shot, and then he pulled my hair with such force away from him that I actually let out a little scream of pleasurable pain. I looked up at him and his eyes were closed but his face was peaceful and serene. It scared me to death to see him so calm. It made me hope that he would find a way to get up again and show me that this quiet, soft and confident man can be a tiger in bed.

I licked my lips and was surprised to find some of him on my upper lip and near the crack of my mouth. Most of it went down my throat, but I finished what was there and must have given him a surprise look. He asked me what was wrong and I told him that I don't mind swallowing but it is usually pretty gross. He tasted like raspberries or blackberries or banana or something sweet. He explained that he eats well and it makes a difference. I haven't given a blow job to a man since before Paulo, but I remember the terrible taste of asparagus and mushrooms. This was not what I was tasting now.

I still had him in my hand and was gently rubbing him. He never really went soft, but he was hard again in just a few minutes maybe less. He was just as thick as before but his head was even thicker and it worried me how it went in my throat. It wasn't the biggest I've seen maybe not even close but it scared me because it looked so pretty and now it looks like he'll tear into me without care. I asked him if he wanted more, and before he could answer he grabbed my shoulder and flipped me in some bizarre manner that forced my face and my breasts and my stomach to the bed flat. He was fast and strong and I didn't expect it. I think I screamed, maybe a little in fear that he was going to take me without protection. I almost felt like Mr. B was going to rape me, but that wouldn't be possible because I wanted him inside me. I never felt that way about a man before, never so scared and yet so willing.

He put his hands on my body again, and again ignored all the best parts. I didn't know if he was just not that familiar with a woman's body or if he was a master in control of a slave, but I know I begged him with simple words like Please and More. He touched me in a way I haven't been touched before or since. His hands are amazing. I felt like a piano being played at a symphony. He spent forever on my back and my head and my shoulders and arms. He spread my legs and kissed me from head to toe and back over and over. I was pushing myself into the bed to try to get some relief. I know the low-key but obviously very expensive sheets were probably ruined.

I was begging, crying for him to take me. He didn't. He never touched me inappropriately. If he would have mounted me face down without a condom, I don't think I would have fought back. I was exhilirated but worn out from his teasing. I begged to the point of crying real tears. That was when he turned me over from my hips and spread my legs.

He put his face towards me and I felt his breath below and his tongue as it barely touched me. Actually I didn't feel his tongue but I heard it, he was that soft. I heard him moan a little at my taste, which made my face flush in embarassment. Paulo doesn't go down on me often, and when he does it's pretty much a few minutes of sort-of pain sort-of pleasure. Mr. B knew my body after just a few hours of touching it. I don't think he was pleasing me for those hours, I think he was learning me. Not once yet had he touched me inappropriately, which made me even hotter for him.

I couldn't take it anymore and I was made that he ripped my hair out so harshly and sexily (is that a word?). I grabbed his long mane of hair and pulled him into me, not fearing his light beard hurting me. He tried to hold back but I pushed my hips into him to make contact. If there is such a thing as a miniature almost orgasm, I had one for sure. My body shook and shuddered and I felt a tear down my face. I was about to beg him, even talk dirty, to get him to touch me like that again. Before I could, he did. A million ice cubes went from mid-section to my limbs followed by a million candles burning through me. We disagree on how long it took me, but I had an orgasm in moments, not minutes. I had no words I was breathing so hard, my heart was racing. I've had good orgasm before (usually on my own) and this one may tie for the best. His face was down there still, and I was afraid he'd fall asleep. We both finished, so I figured I was safe now from this man who could do anything to me. I mean anything, anywhere, safe or dangerous, with or without my approval.

Then he touched me again. I shouted no, asked him not to. I can't have more than one orgasm without hours of rest. I usually just snuggle and fall asleep on the rare occasion that I get one from Paulo (usually by starting myself and then finishing with him in me). He didn't stop but I barely felt what he was doing. Just 30 seconds into whatever magic he was playing with his tongue my body cramped up. My stomach hurt, my back hurt, my neck hurt. I felt paralyzed. A few seconds later I had another orgasm, even bigger than the first. That one was my best, ever. I screamed loud (I am not a screamer) and called his name. Maybe I blacked out, maybe I didn't. I couldn't breathe it was so intense. Tears fell from my eyes for sure. As I came down, he was right next to me without me noticing he had moved. He used his small but strong arms to pull me closer to him, to hold me. Why don't guys do this properly? If a man had held me after sex, it was only to touch my breasts or butt or whatever. He just held me tight.

He held me while I cried my tears and intermittently kept thanking me. He said nothing, he just held. I can't understand it even today. My body is nice from all the work I do with it, and he ignored it to hold me. I looked at he still was erect, but he didn't try anything. He told me to close my eyes and rest, to fall asleep. Part of me wanted to, but part of me knew I still needed more even if it would hurt. Sex after an orgasm isn't easy because I get dry right away. I checked and the opposite was true. It was as if there were 50 of me in there, all raining out.

I touched him again and felt his girth in my hands. It felt amazing. I'm tall on the outside but small on the inside and most guys can't go too deep without really hurting me and banging into things. I did a fast measure with my hands and I think he is almost exactly the length of my favorite vibrator. As I touched him, he moaned again but he said it wasn't necessary. He said he would go to bed fully satisfied. No chance. I asked him if he had condoms. It was the first time since my virginity was lost that I didn't ask for lube.

My hands hurt but I will try to finish this tonight. I'm exhausted and riled up just reading it again.