Poppers Blowjob 1

Sandra was an Australian girl who worked behind a cosmetics counter in a large department store. She was quite tall, had shoulder length black hair and she was fun loving and carefree. All this I had discovered during the course of the salsa lesson.

The salsa class came to an end, and I suggested we go for a drink. Tonight was the first time I’d seen her at the class, but she already knew the moves so I guessed she’d learnt salsa elsewhere. Dancing with her, I’d found that she was a real laugh.

As people spilled out of the place and went their separate ways, we went into the bar next door. It was mid week, and I had work the next day, but I never let things like that stop me from having a good time. Besides, this was An Opportunity. For what, I could only hope.

After a few beers, Sandra was even more of a laugh. She didn’t seem to have any life plan, and was content to work in what she called a dead-end job to fund her party-all-the-time lifestyle. It emerged that she, like me, liked to go to clubs and take assorted drugs. We shared funny drug related anecdotes. It was reassuring to find that she liked the same things – especially those things – as me.

There was much laughter, and the occasional flirty comment. It was nearing closing time in the bar. Boldly, I leaned over and kissed her on the lips. The bar was half full of people, and I’d had sufficient beer to drown my fears of being rejected. If I did get rejected, it was time to leave the bar anyway, and I could disappear easily, taking my embarrassment with me. It turned out that there was nothing to fear, however, as Sandra responded to my advance and gently kissed me back.

This was now the perfect time to ask if I could walk her back to her place. The streets were dark and dangerous, and a young girl shouldn’t walk them alone and vulnerable. She saw the reason in this, and agreed.

Sandra was renting a place in the city centre, so it took a mere 15 minutes to walk there. I was anticipating the goodnight kiss at her door, and what I would then say, but this was a bridge I didn’t have to cross. She just walked up the steps to her flat, with me behind, unlocked the door and went in. She didn’t even look back or say anything. I followed.

She shared the flat with another girl, but she was just going to bed as we went in. Giving a polite hello, I watched as she disappeared into her bedroom in her pyjamas, the door closing behind her.

We were alone in the lounge.

Sandra asked if I wanted to try the strange and colourful liqueur she’d brought back from her recent holiday in Ibiza. I said yes, and when it arrived I took a tentative sip. As expected, it tasted like nail varnish remover. Still, it gave me a warm glow going down.

Fishing her phone out of her bag, she asked if I’d like to see photos from her Ibiza holiday. For some reason we were sitting on the floor, and that fact alone raised several possibilities in my mind. I bet we’re on the floor so we can kiss/make out, I thought.

Sandra changed position so she was lying on her front on the floor with the phone in front of her, her face close to it. She didn’t offer the phone to me. This meant that to see the photos I had to lie on the floor next to her. Again, the fact that we were on the floor alerted me to the fact that something was probably going to happen. I was primed for physical contact. Was something sexual going to happen? Was that why she had us both lying on the floor? We’d already kissed in the bar, so I hoped that was the case.

Despite the alcohol in my system, I felt surprisingly nervous now. Sandra was an unknown. She might be giving me mixed signals and have no intention of following them up. She might be a nutcase and start screaming if I attempted to touch her. The feedback I was receiving from her looked positive, but still that doubt nagged at me. She was a stranger, after all.

Without warning, she pulled a little brown bottle out of her pocket, peered at it and unscrewed the cap. Holding one nostril shut she put the bottle under the other and took a long sniff. Oh my god, she’s got some poppers, I realised. When she offered me the bottle I felt I had to partake. I’d had them before, but found them not to my liking. I gathered that the sex I was hoping for depended on my participating, so I took a long sniff and waited. Sure enough, blood rushed to my face and I felt hot, dizzy, and a little self conscious. Blood was rushing loudly in my ears.

We looked at each other and burst out laughing, tears streaming down our bulging tomato faces. If there was any ice left, that certainly broke it. “I hate poppers” I muttered, and she chuckled. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!”, she replied.

When we’d calmed down, we returned to the photos. To see them properly I had to get my face really close to hers. The proximity made my pulse quicken. Trying to ignore how close her face, her eyes, and her lips were to mine, I made inconsequential remarks about the photos. Any other time I would have been interested but I was hopelessly preoccupied by now. She was so close!

Did she want me to kiss her? Of course she did, I deduced. We’d already kissed in the bar, got drunk and sniffed some poppers together. I’d have to be stupid not to have got the message by now. I was still unsure, though,…

Her face was millimetres from mine as we both looked at the current photo. I had to do something. I looked at Sandra and smiled. She looked at me and smiled back. I didn’t have to turn my head much to bring my lips closer to hers and kiss them, as she was so close. The tenderness of the kiss surprised me, and I noticed how confident Sandra seemed. Her confidence scared me a little. I hope I don’t mess this up, a small voice in my head said.

Still, we kissed our tender kiss on the floor. Tingles of excitement ran over my scalp and neck.

I stroked her back. It felt unfamiliar under my fingers, this being the first time I had touched her like this. Up and down her spine I stroked while I kissed her. A thrill went through me as my tongue touched hers.

She pushed me onto my back and carried on kissing me. I lay back on the floor and let myself be kissed. The fact that she was now directly above me, in the dominant position, turned me on. Her kisses became slower and deeper, as I lay there and imagined myself helpless.

She had a hand on my chest and I suddenly became aware of all our points of contact. Our lips pressed together, tongues squirming against each other; the feel of her bosom crushed against my chest. Her hair on my face. Her hand resting lightly on my chest.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when her hand started moving from my chest downwards. Jesus, I know what’s in that direction and she knows what’s in that direction! The front of my trousers twitched as I felt her hand sliding down my body.

She’s going for my cock, I thought, and I felt another twitch inside my pants. Our kisses became more passionate now, with me submitting to her, and she controlling me from above.

Her hand was light as it moved over my navel, down to my belt, past my belt, but when it finally reached my crotch it lingered and then pressed down hard. The pressure felt like ecstasy. My cock strained against the denim of my jeans, and she squeezed it rhythmically while she kissed me. Even through my clothes the feeling was divine.

Take it out, please take it out, I begged her in my mind. I was becoming desperate for what I hoped was to come.

Find out whether she took my cock out.