Atte wasn’t tall. He wasn’t short either. I guess you could describe him as average height. His full black hair with a few grey streaks made him attractive in a way that you could not adequately describe, even if you tried.
He had beautiful, almond-shaped eyes with black piercing pupils. Protecting them were long dark layered lashes that seemed to curl up when he squinted. He would give you a long hard gaze through those beautiful eyes, while quietly puffing on a cigarette, and make you feel naked.
Sometimes, he wore glasses that masked the beauty of his eyes. No, the lenses were not thick. They were not thin either. His eyes just looked beautiful without them.
“Why do you wear glasses?” I once asked after sex, lying next to him naked in bed, my fingers tracing invisible lines on his smooth, bare chest and my right big toe doing the same to his left foot.
“Because I spend too much time in front of the computer screen,” he responded, not in the least irritated by my question.
It was another thing I loved about him. No question was stupid. He answered them all, perhaps more out of courtesy than anything else.
I loved it when he smiled. He would puff out a cloud of smoke through slightly parted lips, flick his cigarette ashes into the ashtray on the table before him with deliberate slowness, then twitch his lips to the side, with a small dimple appearing on his left cheek.
That was how he smiled. When he was excited and found something particularly funny, a much wider smile would appear on his face, revealing small even teeth and healthy pink gums. He did not smile a lot, though.
His laughter, which was not something you heard often, was hearty, throaty, and deep, extending to his eyes and emphasising small laugh lines around them.
He was quiet. When he spoke, it was with an American accent that was neither strong nor soft. He was just loud enough for you to hear. He never shouted, never raised his voice.
The first thing that struck me when I gave him a blowjob was not the size of his monstrous c*ck but its smell. It had the pleasant masculine musky smell I had come to associate him with, almost like chocolate cookies.
“You smell so nice,” I said, wrapping my hands around his c*ck and stroking it.
We were in his car on our way to a Victoria Island club on Friday night. He was driving, and on a dare, I was trying to make him cum while at the steering wheel.
“Are you sure you can drive?” I asked, raising my head as we approached the Lekki tollgate.
“I am driving, am I not?” he grinned, one hand on the steering wheel.
Once we passed the tollgate and he stepped on the accelerator, I began sucking his thick, big c*ck, letting my tongue slide around the head for a while and down to the sides before lapping his balls repeatedly. Then, I took his entire c*ck in my mouth.
“Oh, yea!” he moaned, adjusting in his seat to raise his hips and push his c*ck further into my mouth. With his left hand still on the steering wheel, he reached down with his right hand and squeezed my naked tits under my soft, chiffon blouse, pinching my nipples one after the other.
I responded by moaning and taking his thick c*ck deeper in my mouth, letting it slide down my throat, bobbing back and forth.
“Fuck yea!” he moaned again, grabbing a handful of my hair and pushing my head on to his crotch.
I fucked his c*ck hard and fast with my mouth till he let out a loud groan and I could taste his jizz.
“Good girl!” he flashed one of those rare smiles at me just as he pulled up in front of the club.
A few minutes of grinding against each other to raunchy music only left us wanting more. So, we left the club and went on to his house where we ripped each other’s clothes apart at the door, kissing hungrily and pushing against every hard surface.
On the bed, after the initial rush, he became gentle, trailing light kisses from my forehead down to my lips then my breasts and to my navel before stopping long enough to slide my pant down my thighs to my ankles and to the floor.
He settled on the space between my thighs, kissing and teasing with his tongue until he found my cl*t and proceeded to lick my juices, making me even wetter.
“Oh, Atte!” I moaned, running my fingers roughly through his hair.
Soon, he dug his tongue inside me and started thrusting, slowly at first, then faster and faster.
“Mmmmh!” I whimpered helplessly, squirming and writhing to the feel of his tongue.
He got on top of me, kissing my body slowly up, from my thighs to my lips. Then, he grabbed my full, perky boobs and squeezed them before putting one nipple in his mouth and sucking it.
I felt his monstrous shaft throbbing against my cunt but he was taking his time.
Finally, when he had teased me enough, he got up and sat on the bed before pulling me on top of him.
“Ride me!” he ordered under his breath.
I wasted no time in mounting him, pushing my pussy on to his c*ck. It slid in easily, for I was wet, and I almost as soon heard the familiar sound of my naked buttocks slapping against his thighs.
The slapping sounds continued, filling the room, as I rode and rocked him, over and over again, letting my orgasm build.
"Yes, Atte! I'm cuming!" I moaned.
"Not yet," he whispered in my ear. "Turn around."
It took me a minute to understand what he meant. Then, I obeyed. With my back turned to him, I positioned myself on his crotch and mounted him again, slowly this time, letting him push his shaft into me.
When he had filled me up, I began to rock him, finding my rhythm, till my pussy gripped his c*ck and he pumped his seed inside me.
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