The Biggest Smile

Transcript

I was so pleasantly surprised that we matched, I definitely remember swiping right on you. What made you special? It was that big, big smile of yours.

And when we finally, finally got to talking, you were very clear about what you wanted. And I felt the same. I remember that conversation.

While I was thinking about my hands all over you, you were telling me that all you wanted was a friend who'd sit, watch TV with you, casually in our pajamas, sweatpants, oversized t-shirts, nothing fancy. I thought you were just playing around. That was up until you invited me over for our first date.

And just as you said, I sat on the couch adjacent to yours and we watched TV. I sat in my sweatpants and t-shirt, you in some cute pajamas. It seemed like you might not be wearing a bra, at least that was my observation.

As far as panties, who knows? That only lasted for an hour or so. I still wasn't sure if you were just trolling me or if you were serious about what you had said you wanted.

But I would return to three more times, oh, I really wanted to be your friend. And I was willing to be patient to reap the rewards of those benefits. And then, almost suddenly, that evening you invited me over, those pjs, they looked a little different.

Instead of loose and oversized, they were tight on your legs. Were those even pajamas? Oh, you still had on that oversized t-shirt, hung low on your neck, and when you bent down to pull the door open, I caught a glimpse of that wonderful, wonderful cleavage.

You sat, as per usual, watching some silly show, but this time it looked like you might have wanted something else, perhaps my attention. I watched you turn and look at me, that big, big grin on your face, that one that initially attracted me to you. I watched as you lifted up that big, big t-shirt, suddenly out of nowhere.

I watched as your other hand slid over your belly, as if you were putting on a show. But if you were, you were doing a great job, so casual, you seemed almost absentmindedly doing all of this. I wasn't sure what to do.

But I watched as you stuck both your thumbs to the hem of those skin-tight pajama pants. I watched you slide them down, no panties indeed. And I sat, pretending to watch TV, my peripheral, observing your hand moving between your legs, stroking your clit.

I watched as you took your other hand, moving it up your neck, over your chin, fingers in your mouth. You appeared to be tasting yourself, suddenly my cock throbbing in my sweatpants. I swallowed, not sure what the protocol was here.

More I could think about it, more I watched as you slowly pushed two fingers inside of that pussy of yours. You followed this with soft moans, the sound so delicious. Then from a few feet away, I could hear that wonderful sound of your fingers moving in and out of that delicious, wet pussy.

I can feel my cock starting to throb. I can feel cum building up in my balls between my legs. I was trying to be a good boy.

I was trying to pretend not to notice, at least for a few, but I could tell you were looking over at me. I gained the confidence to finally swivel my head to the right and look back at you. You responded with a smirk, but neither of us said a word.

Instead, I watched as you opened your legs, lifting your knees. I now have a good view of exactly what you're doing, and apparently you are now a better angle to push your fingers deeper inside of yourself. I watched as juices trickled down your ass cheek.

I found my hand wrapped around my cock over my sweatpants. My breathing starting to quicken. I can feel my mouth watering.

I'm dying. I'm dying to come over there and lick up that little bit of cum running outside that pretty pink pussy of yours. I watch as you push your shirt up even further, fully exposing those tits.

And then as you take both your hands, starting to play with your nipples, squeezing your boobs, laying your head back against the couch in pleasure as you pick up the face with your fingers. And as I continue to watch you, my own legs seem to automatically open. I kick off my shoes, pull off my shirt.

I want you to see how hard that I'm getting for you. All I can think to say is, fuck, I love your pussy. But it comes out of my mouth almost breathlessly.

I now use two hands sliding down my own sweatpants, kicking them to the floor. My cock held against my belly at the waistband of my underwear. Small drips of pre-cum already glistening on the top.

I watch your eyes focus right there. And then I hear you say the words that I have been masturbating about for weeks. Come, come, put your mouth on my pussy.

I want you to taste me, you said. Unbelievable. Was this a dream? This kind of thing never happened to me.

And I felt mysteriously called. I don't even remember moving over to your side of the couch. But what I do recall is my cock was aching to be released.

I watched as you leaned your head back on the couch. I moved myself between your legs. I flipped around my back underneath your legs.

And I waited. I waited until you were close enough for me to take my hands and run them up and down your calves, behind your knees, moving yourself right over my face. I watched you take your hand, sliding it down from those perfectly perky nipples over your belly.

I watched as you took both hands, spreading that pussy open, landing yourself gently above my head. And I felt myself bringing my lips closer. I can feel my lips pressing against your swollen clit.

I can feel your wetness against my nose. I can feel you start to press against me. I need to taste you.

My tongue exploring your tight, wet, warm pussy. I feel your hands on the top of my head, pulling me up and pulling my face against you, deeper between your legs. My hands naturally moving to massage those perfect ass cheeks as my tongue runs around the perimeter of that little pussy.

I can barely hear what you said, but it sounded to me like lick my pussy. My nose pressed against your round, my soft, .