Kink of the Week: Let’s Get Lifted
I’m not that into him, but I find myself coming back to his place repeatedly. He talks a lot and he even talks over me, sometimes. I guess he has a lot to say. He prides himself on the dinners he makes and the way he can make a delectable cocktail. Soon as I am in his door, he greets me with a kiss on the lips. His lips are soft, warm, and inviting.
Following our meal, we each indulge in our preferred after-dinner treat; he smokes a blunt leisurely, while I enjoy a satisfying marijuana-infused chocolate chip cookie, which melts blissfully in my mouth. We talk about topics that I can’t recall now. We giggle intermittently. After all, we connect on our humor. He is quite funny, when I’m sober. But when I’m high, I can laugh until I cry with tears streaming down my face.
Once our post dinner treats are done, he instructs me to lay down so he can give me a massage. I demand that the lotion be warm before he applies it to my body. This is a sticking point. Deep down, I know that he thinks I’m spoiled. Maybe I am. The lotion should be warm.
He rubs his hands virogorously together to warm up the lotion, and then starts kneeding and rubbing my back. I immediately relax and can’t think of any complaints, in the moment. It doesn’t take long before he pulls his dick out and rests it on the crack of my butt while he whispers in my ear and…
