Huge balls and balancing on my head

 A surprise from the start

It was a few weeks back that I met the Irishman for a drink. Number one: he looked nothing like his pictures. That’s not to say he looked bad as he absolutely didn’t but he just didn’t look like his profile.

Anyway, we grabbed drinks (he was keen to buy mine, but I don’t like to have drinks bought for me, so I declined) and headed outside to sit. At a wobbly pub bench, the chat flowed easily. He was quick with compliments and had a self-deprecating charm plus, a cute accent.

He repeatedly told me how attractive he found me, his eyes hungrily roaming over me while he spoke about how much he wanted to kiss and touch me. But he kept his hands in sight, always respectful. Turns out, the Irishman is actually in his 50s while his profile said early 40s. Not the first to lie about age (Cawston did the same), and while I understand the reasons, I always prefer honesty.

As we wrapped up, he gestured to a housing area across the road and mentioned he used to live there.
 “Oh, cool, where do you live now?” I asked.
 “In my van,” he said.

I didn’t quite know how to respond.
 “Oh”

“Yeah, like a Tesco delivery van…”
 He said it was parked at the pub and offered to show me.

He has full standing room, even at 6'4", though it could’ve done with a bit more cleanliness and tidiness in my opinion. I reminded myself that not everyone shares my standards, and tried not to judge. He pointed out the “toilet” and said a shower would be installed soon.

We said our goodbyes and I headed home, feeling a bit uncertain. All our playmates get a nickname and he instantly became the man in a van.

Directness gets results

One thing this lifestyle has taught me and  something I didn’t expect is how to be more direct and honest. So I sent a message the following day after saying I had questions:

“You gave me no reason to doubt your hygiene, but… where do you wash?”

He panicked slightly when I said I had questions, but seemed relieved when he could just say he washes at work. Fair enough.

The Irishman arrives

A couple of weeks passed before we managed to set something up. There were a few false starts with work his end and one of which we had to cancel from our end (a first, and I hated it).

When he finally arrived, he was dressed casually and seemed pretty relaxed. He has a soft demeanour. He is not lacking in confidence, but not cocky either. Maybe I ticked a few of his boxes, because he seemed a little more reserved.

Guinness was poured, and we sat on the sofa to chat. He reached for me gently, freeing my boobs from their lacy cage and looking at them with awe. He stroked my stockings worn at his request and his obvious enjoyment turned me on. His hands explored and we kissed.

Now, kisses tell you a lot. And his? Mouth wide open, tongue thrusting into mine like he was trying to taste my tonsils. Not my style… but with a tongue that eager, I had other plans for it after he had been so vocal about loving to give oral.

Boundaries and blowjob brilliance

He seemed hesitant to progress from the stroking, so I straddled him and continued kissing. Feeling his hard cock pressing against me, I ground my hips down while encouraging him to kiss me more gently.

His hands grabbed my arse and his fingers reached for my arsehole, a hard no. Anal isn’t on my menu, so I pushed him away, and instead he redirected his hand to my pussy. Much better.

Still no big moves, so I slid to my knees and noticed the soaked patch on his shorts from excitement. I undid them and kissed his cock. My tongue stroked gently up his shaft, and he looked like he could cum then and there.

When his cock was completely wet from my tongue, I took him fully into my mouth and down my throat. The sound he made, the clench and release of his hands, the accelerated breathing, told me everything. Yes, he was a fan.

He’d gone on and on about how much he loved eating pussy, but hadn’t made a move and I’m not one to ask. I assumed we were going straight to fucking when he told me to lay down. Instead he knelt down, pulled my thong aside and started licking. Brief, but so good. Then he suited up.

Upside down and loving it

His thick cock felt incredible, and I loved riding him - cumming easily while he focused on not doing the same.

We paused from penetration, and he went straight back to licking me. I started lying along the sofa, but ended up upside down off it, sucking his cock while he knelt and ate me like a man starved. I was completely oxygen-deprived by the time I righted myself, but I’d thoroughly enjoyed every moment.

His had delivered pleasure exploring with his fingers and tongue, persistently pushing boundaries around anal play but in a way that felt thrilling and enjoyable rather than unsafe.

When he sat back on the sofa, I sucked him again, then slid his cock between my boobs. His face lit up like a kid in a sweet shop.
 “Oh fuck, I wish I could film that,” he said.

So I handed him my phone.

He recorded while I continued sucking, deepthroating, and teasing with my tits until I stroked him to a BIG finale, and he covered us both in his cum.

Round two

A quick clean-up and we sat back to chat, him completely comfortable still naked while I poured another Guinness.

Honestly, I assumed that was it. He’s older, after all. But when I hinted at round two he jumped at the chance, hard even before I’d finished the suggestion.

More licking and kissing, then we hit the floor for some incredible missionary. It was rough enough to break the condom.
 “Oh shit!”

We got a new one on and carried on. He held me close while fucking me, and I loved that he finished inside me this time.

Ending on a high

I had one of the best times I’ve had in a while with the Irishman. Let’s hope number two lives up to the hype because this man knows how to surprise me.

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