She only worked the shaft
Years ago in my twenties, I reunited with an old girlfriend for two nights. I hadn't seen Jana for a year, but she agreed to let me stay with her for a couple of nights while I passed through town.
The first night we just plain fucked.
The second night, though, she had other plans. We made out on her couch, me in boxers, her in a tank top and panties. She was a pretty girl, thin with dark curly hair and beautiful modest breasts. She curled up on my lap and said she wanted me to finger her. Which I did. I brushed her panties to the side and put two fingers into her, wet and warm. She liked things gentle - I moved my fingers around in her, feeling the walls of her vagina, rubbing her clit softly with my thumb. Her tank topped chest pressed against my face - I could hear her heart and her breath and how each responded to my every move. This lasted a long time. Until she climaxed.
And then it was my turn.
I pulled her tank top off of her and exposed those lovely breasts. But she wanted it on, and so she put it on. And then removed my shorts, my cock standing proud. We stood up and she led me to her room, a mattress on the floor. I sat down cross-legged. She put some lube on her hand and began massaging the shaft of my penis.
The girl gave magnificent hand jobs. And her secret was that she never touched the tip. No other girl's done that for me - and I certainly can't stand to do it for myself. I don't know if someone taught it to her or it just came natural, but she only worked the shaft (with a couple gentle caresses for my balls). Of all the hand jobs she gave me, that one, that last night, stands out. Her hand only moving up and down my shaft. We kissed. But mostly we just were. Together. I lost sense of time. I leaned back, she said something about me cumming, and then I did. Several loads straight up.
She kept a hand on my cock until it softened. We cleaned up the best we could and then fell asleep. The next morning, I left.