My apartment in Berlin is pretty typical, with very high ceilings, hardwood floors, and a small awkward kitchen. Actually, these days it’s maybe less than typical because no one actually lives there full-time. Stefan moved out to the countryside and I moved back to the US, so anything that makes a home a home is gone and only the bare necessities remain (and barely that!) The bed fills the bedroom space, the kitchen has nothing except the counter, sink, oven, and fridge. In the living room, we have a huge orange couch that could easily accommodate a fun foursome and a small table. Oh, and a sex swing.
It’s a huge, heavy leather swing, with stirrups and large metal chains connecting it to the ceiling. Draped off the metal loops hang various spanking and stingy implements, or just as often, laundry. (It’s an equal opportunity swing!) It sits at the end of the couch, right in front of the window. It dominates the room, especially now that there really is nothing else in the room to distract from it. (Honestly, even with other things, it’s large and in the middle of the room and a sex swing, so I mean, it’s THE THING.) It is an interesting conversation piece and usually a bit of a surprise when people walk into the space. I know it was for me the first time I visit Stefan here. People who are from Berlin tend to have less of a reaction than those of us from more traditional places. But it is always something that is remarked on- regardless.
This particular night I was out with the Argentinian. He’s a soft-spoken illustrator who is experiencing Berlin in a similar way I did when I first arrived. He’s discovering the sensual side of the city and enjoying its hedonism. We met on Tinder and through chatting discovered a lovely connection and were eager to meet and see if that connection translated to real life. It did.
We sat across from each other at my favorite little corner bar where the wait staff knows me well. They brought my Aperol Spritz to the table when they first came by to greet us. He thought it was funny and clever, ordered the same and we got down to the business of getting to know one another. Apparently, he found my Spanish charming, and very surprising that I am actually fluent. For my part, I loved listening to his Spanish, an Argentinian accent so full of soft sounds and lilting rhythms. It was an auspicious beginning.
Later that night, tucked into the corner of another bar, this time a Colombian one, we shared a lovely Argentinan Malbec. It sat mostly empty on the table in front of us when he finally pulled me to him and kissed me. Our wine kissed lips lingered close and he whispered, “Que rico…” After that, the tone of our evening changed. There was less silliness and laughter, more touching on the arm, more kissing, and more long lingering looks over the rims of our glasses. There was another bottle of wine and the conversation turned, as he calls it, “spicy.” Sitting side by side, legs touching, arms brushing, heads bent towards one another, we discussed our sexual preferences. Talking about sex and the things we have done or like to do is always such a turn-on. I could tell it was exciting him too, as we leaned in to kiss more time and he whispered, “Vamos? Let’s go?”
Despite having warned him about the sex swing, there is no way to prepare someone for the actual thing, all black leather, and chains hanging from the ceiling of my home. Truly. Luis was no exception. He stood there looking at it for a full beat before he turned to me with a big grin and said, “Oh we’re going to use that!” Before we had even caught our breath from the five-story climb, he grabbed me around the waist, pushed me up against the wall, and started kissing me.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and one leg around his waist and held him close. I love making out, and kissing someone new always has a delicious edge of excitement. I could tell he was enjoying himself too as his hard cock pressed up against me through our clothing. He kissed me deeply, our tongues entwined and breath catching. Slowly he pushed my arms up over my head, holding me against the wall with the pressure of his groin against mine, and he dragged his mouth across my cheek, to my ear, then made his way teasingly down my neck. Oh, I was getting so wet just kissing him, I couldn’t wait to get our clothes off!
Eventually, we pulled away. I smiled and took my top off as I walked to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. He followed, unbuttoning his shirt as he reached the refrigerator door. I laughingly pulled the shirt off the rest of the way as we stood in the empty kitchen, windows open showing us off for the world to see.
“Tomate esto.” I handed him the wine to open as I pulled the curtains closed. He opened the wine, his strong arms flexing as he pulled the cork out, turning me on even more. Everyone loves a good forearm and his were particularly sexy. I grabbed the glasses and sashayed out of the kitchen. I placed them on the table and gestured to him to pour us more wine, while I distracted him by slowly slipping down my skirt and stepping out of it, staring into his eyes the whole time. He almost spilled the wine! He caught himself in time and handed me, now only in a black lace bra and panties, my glass before stripping off his chinos and joining me on the couch in his boxers.
Now listen, I might be easy and have no qualms about having sex on a first date, but I really have to enjoy your company and be able to talk to you comfortably and easily. Luis was not only handsome, but our conversation flowed easily. We spoke primarily in Spanish which I know surprised him but also continued to turn him on as we sat on the couch, side by side, bodies warm where we were touching skin to skin, drinking our wine, and talking. It gave us both a moment to be comfortable, literally in our own skin, and for the sex swing to become less of a shock and more of a delicious adventure about to take place.
Before too long, he gently took my glass from my hand and put it on the table. He laid back on the couch, pulling me on top of him. Kissing him deeply, I ran my hands down his chest, directly to his fat hard cock. Touching him through his boxers, I could feel his hardness jumping under my fingers. He pushed me back and under him, pulling my bra down to suck and lick my pointy nipples. I arched my back to push them even further into his mouth, enjoying the sensations and the wetness of his lips.
He reached back up to my mouth, kissing and licking my face. I moaned loudly when he not only kissed my lips but moved his tongue over my face, licking my mouth, my nose, my eyes, my whole face. I never knew how much that would turn me on, but I was so hot! We laid there with him licking my face and sucking my tongue while we ran our hands all over each other until I had to have him! I sat up and stripped off my panties and he jumped up and stripped off his boxers. But instead of pushing me back down to play some more, he gestured to the sex swing and gave me a big grin. “Aqui amor?”
With his help, I climbed up into the swing. He handed me my glass of wine. I slowly sipped the wine while he pulled out the stirrups and gently placed my feet into them. He pushed my legs further apart, supported by the stirrups they opened wide to his gaze. I watched, sipping my wine, as he ran his hands down my thighs and pushed a finger into my wet pussy. He looked back up to my face stepped closer in between my legs, took my wine glass, and put his wet fingers into my mouth. I sucked my juices from his fingers and he stuck them in deeper, pressing in and out. While I was gagging on his fingers, he pressed the fingers of his other hand back into the wet juices between my legs. I leaned back into the hard leather of the swing and let my ass move up closer to the edge and my legs fell more fully open.
“The lube is in the cabinet behind you, bring the poppers too!” Before he went to grab what we needed, he leaned in to kiss me, his warm body covering mine to reach my mouth.
“Si voy! Pero, I want you to show me how to fist you and make you scream, yes?”
“Oh Si, Papi! Yes, please!’
He came back and got right to work. He stood between my legs, lubed up his fingers, and generously slathered the silky liquid over my labia and into my vagina with three fingers. I loved his enthusiasm and made enough noise to ensure he understood not only my consent but my own enthusiasm for the event as well. Pressing the three fingers in and out in and out, I pushed his hand closer to me, “Deeper.” He immediately complied and instinctively pushed a fourth finger inside my wetness. His fingers sliding easily in and out now, the lube and my own natural wetness aiding him as he thrust in and out. Leaning back in the sex swing and allowing my legs to open in the stirrups made it so much easier for him to access my body.
“Want to try to push more in?” I asked him as I took a whiff of the poppers. My head filled with the scent and my muscles automatically loosened, preparing me for what was next.
“Si, Yes I want to.” He slowly folded his thumb inside his four fingers and added more lube. This is the part I love, that first press of the knuckles, pushing, forcing my body to open more than it seems possible, the feeling of being overly stretched yet knowing the reward for getting past this one spot will be worth the pain. The pain, the exquisite pressure itself, is part of the joy of the act. I lifted my hips to help him realize he could press harder.
“More, now, it’s ok. Push!” With that instruction, he gripped my thigh with his free hand and held us both steady in the sex swing, and pushed his whole hand past the barrier, thrusting it deep inside me.
“Ahhh, Yes, Si!” We both yelled out something similar at the feeling of his hand sunk deep inside me. The smile that came over his face was infectious. My grin quickly became moans and gasps as he wasted no time pushing and pulling his hand in and out. He felt his way around, understanding what made me moan, and began in earnest to pump his hand rapidly.
“Faster, Faster!” I commanded. He complied and quickly I could feel the liquid filling me up inside, the build-up growing. It wasn’t long before I was gasping and moaning, and yelled, “Out! Out! Quickly take it out! Ya!” As soon as he pulled his hand out, hot liquid poured out of me, splashing loudly onto the wood floor below us, and dousing him with the flow. He quickly pushed his hand back inside me and started pumping again.
“Tell me when!” Happy to oblige I relished in the feeling of his hand pumping deeper and deeper. Now that he felt more comfortable, his rhythm changed as he heard my moans He became playful and teasing. He grabbed the chain on the side of the swing and with one hand inside me, one on the chain, spun the chair around. Acting as the axis between my legs, he spun us around and around. I was already buzzed and now high from another sniff of the poppers. The room spinning around us gave me the freedom to loosen my mind, stop thinking, and simply feel all the sensations. There we were spinning around the room, his fist pulsing inside me; harder, deeper, faster. I gave in again and the liquid was now pushing out of me, splashing on the wooden floor below us, splashing up onto his body and mine as his fist blocked it from fully cascading, pushing it back onto us and all around. A wet beautiful mess. In the midst of this ridiculous joyful mess, I came. The orgasm overcame me like a tidal wave. Waves of muscles pulsing around his hand, contracting as he pushed in harder and faster, pulling screams from my throat and eliciting beautiful sounds of joy and exertion from his.
“Now! Now! Don’t stop! Don’t stop! OH PAPI! SI! SI! SI! Ahora… Más! Por favor! Más! Más! Más!”
When I finally collapsed and stopped yelling he slowed down our spin. He kept his hand inside me until my breathing slowed- until OUR breathing slowed. He moved closer to me and rubbed my leg, and my belly, and made quiet little shushing sounds as I floated back down, relaxed my back and my vagina muscles, and allowed him to pull his hand from out of inside me. Once his hand was free, he moved to the side of the swing so he could kiss me gently and brush back my sweaty hair from my face.
“Oh WOW! Que increible! Estás bien? Are you ok?”
He helped me from the swing, the floor wet beneath our feet, and navigated us back to the couch. Gently, he helped me lay down and brought me a warm wet cloth to wipe off with. He lay his naked body next to mine, I pulled him even closer, almost on top. I needed him to keep me anchored to this time and place. He held me, whispering sweet words in Spanish, kissing my face, and holding me close. He was sweet and tender, caring for me until I was ready to talk and communicate again.
In time, I teased him, “Entonces, ?qué piensas de este columpio? What do you think of this sex swing?”
“I LOVED it! Vamos a usarlo de nuevo! We’re going to use it again!”
Another story about the sex swing:
Some other hot and steamy stories about fisting: