Back in my uniformed days, I was away from home many times because of mandatory trainings I had to do. When I was at home, I was a responsible adult and lived the way it was expected of me. When I was away from home, I was a bit less responsible and I did things that could have gotten me into trouble. One of those things was hooking up with one of the instructors in the encampment. I was in lust with him, not in love.
We frequently ‘disappeared’ when we were allowed to spend our time the way we wanted. Somehow during the training I thought that we had quite a lot of these ‘off’ moments. However, at the time I also thought it might just be my imagination telling me that. Whenever he and I ‘disappeared’, I always left after he did. He would wait for me in his room. I would park my car out of sight and not to close to his room and then walked around the back to get to his room. By the time I reached his door he always quickly opened it for me to slip inside.
Once inside his room we quickly got down to business. Having a nice conversation was not why we got together. Our uniforms were on the floor in no time. Naked and kissing we moved over to the bed, groping at each other. We had one goal and one goal only: to satisfy the lust inside us. We were only interested in each other’s bodies and not at all in each other’s minds. I could care less what moved him. He would never have been able to tell anyone what the color my eyes were.
He always followed the same ‘routine’. His mouth moved over my body, sucking on my erect nipple while his other hand kneaded and squeezed my other breast. Sometimes he changed from one breast to the other – with his mouth, with his hands. He would kiss his way down to my crotch, sucking my clitoris deep into his mouth, licking my lips, my hole. The movements of his mouth were nice, but never brought me close to an orgasm. When he had enough of licking me, he would change places with me. On his back, his one hand supporting his head, he would hold his hard cock upright for me to suck on. He did not want any kissing, no hugging, nothing other than for me to suck his cock. His hand stayed around the base, holding his member, waiting for me to put my lips around it. His hand stayed in place as I sucked on his cock.
He decided when it was time to fuck. He positioned himself on his knees between my legs. His legs were spread, with his knees under my thighs. Slowly he roled the condom over his erect member. His hands gripped my ankles, keeping my legs up in the air. His hard cock was proudly pointing upwards. Not using his hands, but twisting and moving his hips, he eventually entered me. He never changed his position, but alternated from pounding into me to moving in and out of me very slowly. All the time he watched his cock moving in and out of my cunt. Never once did he look at me. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the sensations; the alternating speed with which he fucked me.
Each time that he climaxed he arched his back and pushed his penis deep inside me, holding it there until the last drop of his semen spurted into the condom. He never was interested if he had met my needs, if I had climaxed. Mostly I did, but that he never noticed either. And each time after we fucked, he would get off the bed, take the condom off and drop it in the litter bin. The first time I saw this ritual of him, I looked at it with amazement, but later I got used to it. He would grab a roll of toilet paper, take a piece off it and then look down at his semi-hard cock, which stood forward proudly. Very carefully, with immense patience, he would drop a dollop of spit on his cock, never missing his member. Then he would use the toilet paper and spit to clean his cock.
He had strange habits, this man, and he always followed this strange routine, but secretly meeting up with him did make the mandatory trainings I had to follow a lot more fun!
PS: This week’s prompt for Wank Wednesday was #patience
© Rebel’s Notes