Moustache, Photo by Alan Hardman on Unsplash
The week passed quickly, my previous lovers left. So much the better, I’m in the mood for new things and I’m waiting for new prey.
Tonight, it’s Friday, it’s hunting night… Yet I don’t feel like a warrior’s soul. I’m not sure I have the energy to hunt. Maybe going to the gym right before the party wasn’t a good idea?
A LOT OF PEOPLE, BUT NOT A LOT OF POTENTIAL
The inn is packed to the rafters. It feels like things are back to normal. We’re crowding around the pool table, around the kitchen table. They speak English, Spanish, Italian, French, German. Dancing, heckling, singing, talking.
I feel invaded in my space, I don’t know where to stand, who to talk to. I don’t know where to put my head. And I’m struggling to find potential prey. Too small, too big, in a relationship, too complicated…
My buddies are asking me who’s next, they can’t wait to see who I’m going to fall prey to. I’m feeling a little pressured. Uh, I hunt for pleasure first, huh. We’ll see if I feel like it tonight.
A little flame is kindled in me, the wine takes effect, it awakens my primal instincts, my cravings, my thirst for sex. Yes, I feel that tonight I’m going to bite into a piece of fresh flesh… But who?
TWO POTENTIAL PREYS
My eyes are all over the audience… Mm-hmm, it’s going to be hard to find something to sink my teeth into.
It’s not that they’re all ugly, but the choice is important. You need someone who’s open-minded, single, and doesn’t know about the blog. Yes, you also need someone who won’t expect more, and a guy I wouldn’t get attached to…
Ah, I’m spotting my first prey.
He’s busy talking to a hot little blonde girl. She’s got a boyfriend, don’t worry. He’s medium height, he’s got a funny haircut. English, I’m told. He’s got piercing blue eyes and a nice smile. A bit young, but he’d make a good four hours.
And then there’s Mr. Whiskers. I’d already spotted him a few days ago. He’s been here a little less than a week…
German, medium height, medium build. Cap screwed on the head, an uncertain style from the 90s, blue eyes and … A beautiful moustache.
THE MOUSTACHE, A SEDUCTIVE ASSET
Ah, mustaches… it leaves me dreamy…
Maybe it’s the Narcos effect, the return of the vintage, or the memory of an old 80’s porno, but a man with a moustache is a little ahead of the game. I’m excited about it…
As a result, Niels the German may look a little empty and not really intelligent, but he creates a wave of desire under my jeans skirt.
Well, the problem is that tonight, I don’t feel very brave. The panther’s a little lazy. I’m not as hungry as I was last week, the wine makes me a little sleepy, and I don’t know if I’d dare be so forward. And then he’s hitting on a mate of mine, um, I think he’s already got a preference.
I’m just enjoying the evening, we’ll see.
THE MOUSTACHE, A GOOD WAY TO START A CONVERSATION…
As they say opportunity makes the thief… Well, tonight it does.
I’m standing by the kitchen table, he’s coming out of the bathroom, he has no choice, he’s gonna walk right by me. One step to the left, and I block his way. “Nice mustache! You’re look like a pornstar of the ’80s. ” “Haha, and you love it ? ” he goes on, his eyes sparkle. He won’t be hard to convince… ” Oh yes, and my wash machine is broken, could you help me ? “. He laughs, stares at me, and adds: “Let’s go for sex then. “I nod my head, I take his hand. He has a blissful smile, he doesn’t believe it.
It took me 20 seconds to bring the prey back to my den.
THE REAL BUSINESS BEGINS
No kisses, no time, we rush out into the hallway, bottle of water outside the room. When we get there, we kiss each other, her kiss is wild and full of desire.
I walk away, I have to go to the bathroom first. I leave him in my room. Don’t disappear, my little moustache guy!
When I come back, he’s taken off his jacket, his trousers and he’s about to take off his shirt. Sir is in a hurry?
When he sees me, he throws himself at me again. The kisses are intense and his hands rush to take off my clothes. The shirt flies, the skirt and the tights too. He doesn’t expect anything underneath.
Don’t ask me why, but tonight I put on a bodysuit, a beautiful lace bodysuit. I wanted to feel beautiful underneath… Well, I can tell you it’s a hit.
It details my curves highlighted in the lace piece. His pants are going to explode if I don’t get the little bird out of the cage. He turns me over, bends me over on the bed, runs his hands over my suit.
Ttttt young man, another one who doesn’t wear a condom very much, I get out of the way, I catch two… You never know…
A STRANGE FORESKIN
I’m clearing his shorts, his penis is the right size. However, he has a little peculiarity, his foreskin doesn’t come down, it stays on his glans. I try to lower it, but I can’t, it’s not open enough, I’m going to hurt it.
Ok, we’ll do with that. It’s not that embarrassing. My lips work a little, then he takes over. He takes care of me in turn. It’s short but pretty good.
He doesn’t just lick my apricot, but goes a little lower… That bodes well for the future, would he have other intentions?
It’s okay, we’re hot, he’s putting on the condom. We do a series of positions, standing at first, then we move on to the bed. He’s talented and with my fingers playing the most beautiful symphony, I climb up quite quickly.
We end up as missionaries, I can feel him coming. I moan, but he asks for more. “Be loud for me, baby”. Okay… Uh, well, I’ll try. I’m not a screamer, my orgasms are silent, I can’t breathe, slight moaning, head tilted backwards.
I try a first moan higher up, it makes me want to continue. Let’s go, I simulate moaning. How can that excite him? I’m a poor porn actress and the sounds coming out of my throat are anything but realistic.
He reaches out, makes a funny growl and falls down on me. We stay like this for a few minutes. Then we get dressed.
Perfect, I bet on the right horse, not too long, not too short, wild, and not romantic for a penny !
He can’t believe it, he’s happy as hell. He keeps telling me that there should be more girls like me. More girls who don’t beat around the bush, who know what they want and take it. Not false… But that would make it much harder for me ;).
SECOND ROUND OF MISTER MOUSTACHE
We both come back to the party with a smirk on our face. A little debriefing with friends. I don’t know about that, throwing a few glances at him every now and then… I have a good mind to do it again.
I’m starting to feel my hormones getting excited again. He’s not far away, I go looking for him… My hands go for a walk, my burning eyes get stuck in his.
My roommate walks by, “You have 30 minutes guys, then I’m gonna go to sleep.” No time to lose, yet he hesitates. After a few seconds of tanning him, he confesses that he’s not sure he can do it again. I’m shaking my head… Of course you can… it’s not knowing me well, kitten.
I drag him to the bedroom, we’re already a few minutes late. When we get to the den, he kisses me wildly, then sits on the bed. He repeats, he’s not going to be able to. On the other hand, he’s not against a strip tease… I see it as an opportunity to get my way.
Slowly, I get rid of every piece of my clothes, my eyes planted in his. I see his crotch swelling, I place myself with my back to him and I take care of myself, since he doesn’t seem to want to move.
WITH THE DILDO?
Knowing he’s so excited to look at me makes me want more. “You really can’t? “I ask innocently as I grab my sextoy. A gleam of desire shines on his pupils.
He watches me play, caresses me and ends up putting on the condom that I hand him. Finally, he participates. It’s wild, it’s good. Without much effort, he convinces me to accept his desire.
His strokes of the bedpan and the vibrations of my sextoy do the rest. Just when I feel he’s about to finish, I increase the speed of my dildo. The orgasm is almost simultaneous.
During all the coitus, he keeps his cap on. I feel like I’m really sleeping with an actor from the ’80s!
We lie in bed for thirty seconds. We laugh, it was intense. Hop hop, half an hour’s already over. It’s time to go downstairs.
GO ONCE AGAIN…
Back to the party. Almost everyone’s gone to bed. I’m disappointed.
I’m talking to some of the survivors. Then some of my buddies come home. My lover’s friends leave, and we both meet up by the pool table. My buddies on the couch are teasing me loudly. I try to convince Moustache to do it one last time, in bed or somewhere else. He’s tired, he wants to go to bed. Yet he’s there, waiting for me.
One last joke in bad taste, I chat for three seconds with the jokers. I turn around, he’s gone. I take a few steps, and he’s waiting for me in the hall.
We kiss. He apologizes, he’s tired… We go up the stairs. Facing his room, I try everything for the whole thing, look at the embers, whispered words and he follows me into the Men’s bathroom.
We don’t even choose a shower, we do it facing the sink. Condom slipped into my bra, hop hop hop and here we go again.
Wild and tasty, it’s short but exquisite. Just enough for a good night’s sleep. We leave with a smile on our faces.
3 replies on “Niels, the Moustache, 137”
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