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I knew what he would do if that happened. His eyes were hungry, and his hands were practically twitching to pull me into him.
But I had more questions.
“What about this one?” I asked, pressing my hand against his muscular shoulder. His well-defined, they feel rock hard under my hand, shoulder.
“My favorite plane,” he said. “They don’t build them like that anymore.”
It was a bomber plane, an old World War II one, dropping bombs all the way down his arm.
It was cool.
I liked it a lot.
It was also so, totally him.
The final tattoo started at his left shoulder and trailed down his back.
I’d seen it this morning as he’d gotten dressed, and I could picture it in my mind.
I trailed my fingers along his trapezius muscle, at the very top of his shoulder where only the heads of two pistons could be seen.
“And this?” I dragged my nails down the length of his shoulder, starting at his neck, and working my way down.
“Old engine,” he said. “Three-fifty. First motor that I rebuilt.”
I licked my lips at the rasp in his voice.
“It’s cool,” I said.
His hands once again started to move, this time trailing his fingers along the lower curve of my ass.
That was when I looked down at his cock.
It was still hard as a rock, and now it was leaking a clear, milky fluid that I wanted nothing more than to drop down to my knees and suck off of him.
He saw my intention, too, and tightened his hands along my thighs.
They spanned from the outside curve of my ass cheeks to the inside curve.
Both of his middle fingers were resting on the outside lips of my sex.
When he dug in his fingers to keep me from dropping down, the lips of my sex spread deliciously apart, making me clench.
“Don’t,” he murmured. “If you do that, I’m going to come inside your mouth, and that’s for another time and day.”
I once again locked my knees, the idea of him coming inside my mouth a delicious idea that took root in my brain.
“I can see that the idea doesn’t bother you,” he grinned. “But for now, I want to do other things.”
“What other things?” I wondered.
He leaned back on the bed, going down onto one elbow, and pulled me with him.
I went, going down to my hands and knees beside him.
The new position put my breast in his face, and he took advantage of the situation, leaning up and biting down lightly on one nipple.
So lightly, in fact, that nothing else touched but his teeth.
Then he pulled away, allowing my nipple to stretch until it popped free of his mouth.
I dropped down lower onto him, feeling the brush of his cock head against my sex.
I looked down to see the drop of his pre-cum now decorating my clit.
I licked my lips and looked away, unsure if I wanted to reach down and rub it in, or swipe it free of my clit and bring it to my tongue to taste.
“Walk up here and straddle my face,” he urged, placing one hand on my ass and pressing forward.
I swallowed hard.
“Jonah…”
My hesitancy must’ve shown on my face because he grinned and pushed harder.
“Come on, baby,” he ordered. “I want to taste you.”
I bit my lip and decided to give him what he wanted.
I was very intrigued by the idea, and even more, I wanted to see what it felt like to have his tongue on my clit. In my pussy.
Tasting me. Devouring me.
I climbed up his body, and with his help, situated myself until I was hovering over his face.
“Come closer.” He pulled on my hips.
I dropped down more and more until I could feel his breath against my sex.
“More,” he ordered again.
I dropped down more.
“You’re not going to hurt me,” he teased. “Sit on my face.”
I lowered down until my pussy was practically pressed directly on his mouth, and he groaned.
One slow lash of his tongue had me jolting.
The next lick circled my clit. Then my entrance before delving deep inside.
My fingers clutched onto my thighs.
His arms encircled my hips and his hands spanned my rib cage on both sides, pulling me down even further until I felt like I was smothering him.
He groaned.
I cried out in surprise when he buried his face into my pussy. His tongue going deeply once again inside of me, and his nose pressing against my aching clit.
The way that his beard felt against the sensitive folds of my sex felt utterly divine, too.
He did this for long minutes.
Each time I would get close to the edge, he’d pull back, allowing me to once again regain control of myself before delving back in. Over and over he did this until finally I latched onto his hair and pulled him into me.
Instead of allowing him to pull away, I rode his face and ground myself into him, practically riding his tongue and lips as I chased my orgasm.
