A Bit of Rough
be able to curb my hilarity if we'd started slipping and sliding on black silken sheets.
    Andrew let go of my hand and headed to the window. Mercifully, he pulled the curtains shut. The last thing we needed was one of his exes peering through the window as we fucked—as had happened in one of the tales of his past that he'd regaled us with in the pub.
    He sat on the bed, pulled off his shoes, tossed them out of the way, and beckoned to me. I slipped off my own shoes and walked over to him. As I stood in front of him, my breasts were directly in front of his face. He didn't seem to mind and responded by cupping them together and grinning with undisguised delight at the impressive cleavage this created beneath my V-neck top.
    I grinned back then leaned down to kiss him. His considerable stubble grazed my face, but it served only to heighten my arousal. Grabbing my waist, Drew pulled me toward him, and we tumbled onto the bed, where I ended up sat astride him.
    Like that wasn't planned, eh?
    From the off, I knew my hunch about his bedroom skills had been correct. His kissing technique and every touch were sublime. Before long, we were down to our underwear. That's when I got my first surprise. I knew the guy had tattoos, but—
    wow . He was covered in them.
    "How many tattoos do you have?"
    "Ten."
    "Let's see 'em then."
    Far from ruining the moment, this gave me the chance to stare openly at his gorgeous body without appearing weird or giving him an even bigger head.
    Drew pointed out every decoration and told me about each one—why he'd gotten it and when. Turns out, he'd been around more than I thought. Most of the designs were dotted around his chest and arms, with one on his leg. However, when I was properly introduced to the one on his torso, I had to stop myself pouncing on him. Tattoos can be unsightly, particularly in excess, but they suited him and the whole 'bad boy' image. The one on his stomach was huge, a tribal pattern stretching from his belly button down . . .
    . . . how far, I couldn't quite tell, as he was still in his boxers. I would have to remedy that.
    "Come on then," I said. "Let's see the rest of it."
    Smirking, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down—a fraction—just enough to see the rest of the design, which ended just above his pubic hair.
    I loved this particular tattoo, as much for its location as anything else, and told him so. Except for the bit about the location, of course. That part, I decided to show him.
    Pushing him onto his back, I sat astride him once more, but much farther down, so I was able to lean down and kiss his stomach. Which I did.
    I kissed and licked every millimeter of skin adorned with the design, and soon enough felt an excitable cock pressed against my throat. I grabbed Drew's waistband and pulled his boxers down, purposely scratching him with my nails as I did so. I heard a sharp intake of breath, and his dick twitched uncontrollably. So he was into a bit of pain, eh? I couldn't say I was surprised. The tats kind of gave it away.
    When his cock was revealed, I got it. This guy had an unfair advantage when it came to being excellent in the sack. He could just lie there and do nothing, and he'd still be good. I can honestly say I've never seen one as big as that before, and probably never will again. Not only was his shaft long, but it was thick too. I guessed that if I put my hand around the girth, my fingers wouldn't reach my thumb.
    It stood proudly from his well-groomed pubes, the shortness of which only accentuated the size of his erection. Throwing his boxer shorts to the floor, I touched his cock, determined not to let him see how intimidated I was by his size. Gripping his penis, I proved myself right on the fingers-touching-thumb-thing. Swallowing a gulp, I slowly wanked him off, watching closely as his foreskin rolled back and forth, displaying a meaty-looking bell-end. Soon, it was seeping with pre-come, and I leaned down and

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