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I groan in appreciation when she doubles her efforts rather than pulling away.
“Good girl,” I hiss as the tingling sensation I’ve been feeling the entire time congregates at the base of my spine. “Good girl.”
She whimpers with the first rush of my orgasm, her eyes fluttering closed. The second and third bursts are the things dreams are made of but serve to be too much as she pulls back. I don’t stop coming. I fucking can’t, and I watch in awe as her mouth stays open and rope after rope of cum lands on her lips, her chin.
“Jesus,” I hiss, my hand finding my spasming dick to stroke it with a violence I’ve never used before.
I stand there a slave to this woman as she blinks up at me.
When she moves her hand from behind her back to wipe me from her skin, I can’t handle it. Reaching for her, I run my fingers through the mess I’ve made of her pretty face and dip my coated fingers into her mouth. She laps at them greedily, her breathing rushing through flared nostrils when she closes her lips around them to suck.
My cock bobs between my legs, refusing to flag while her mouth is on me, so in an attempt to distract myself, I lean forward licking up the remaining mess before swiping my tongue inside of her mouth. The kiss goes on for eons, her hands gripping my forearms as if I’m the only thing anchoring her to earth.
“Naked,” I insist, breaking my mouth away.
She blinks up at me, still dazed for several long seconds. Reaching down, I unclasp the cuffs on her ankles and take a step back.
“That was filthy,” she whispers, her hands reaching for the hem of her t-shirt. “Tasting your cum like that.”
Her fingers tremble as the fabric clears the perfection of her tits. I barely hold back a groan, but from the salacious look in her eyes I know she sees the affect she has on me. Hell, my cock reaching for her again is probably the only sign she’d need.
“Shorts and panties, too,” I insist. “Completely naked.”
I need to tug my boxers and jeans back up, put some barrier between us if I have any hope of keeping to my personal promise of not fucking her tonight, but her eyes focus on the fabric tangled around my legs.
She won’t ask, but I know what she wants, and it’s the vulnerability in her eyes as she slips her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts that sets me into action.
Keeping my eyes on the slow reveal of her flesh, I begin to kick my shoes off, a nearly impossible task considering my brain doesn’t want to work right now.
She chuckles when I nearly fall over, and somehow that’s perfect too. It’s a way to relieve some of the tension in the room right now, but it’s over quickly when my hand reaches for my cock once again. It’s her turn to feel pleasure, but resisting the urge to stroke as she tosses away the last piece of clothing is inconceivable.
“You’re fucking perfect. Move your hand,” I command when her fingers flutter over the sensual roundness below her belly button. It’s clear she’s a little self-conscious, but that has no place in this room. “God, I want to lick you from head to toe. Every inch of this delectable body.”
She whimpers with need when I inch closer.
“Want my tongue on you, baby? Want my fingers in that greedy pussy of yours again? Need my attention focused on your tight little asshole?”
Anal play turned out to be a soft limit for her, but the thought of her squirming while I touch her there is intoxicating.
“Just your pussy tonight,” I assure her when her eyes widen. “And these fucking tits.”
The peaks of her nipples bud into tight points as my thumbs tease the pebbled flesh. Her breaths are as uneven as mine as I lower my mouth to her. We groan, perfectly in sync when I nip and then suck one into my mouth. Her hips shoot up, back bowing, her entire body begging for contact. My cock jerks at the idea, and I’m desperate for distance.
“Scoot back,” I urge, my mouth still hovering over her flesh.
I remain steady as she situates her body which puts her shiny pussy right at my mouth. I aim for seduction, beg for a little finesse but the scent of her arousal is like steak hanging in front of the salivating mouth of a hungry lion. Just as it would be impossible for that wild animal to resist, I’m no better.
Whitney squeals, hands tangling in my messy hair as my mouth attacks her without warning. Her knees clamp around my ears, and maybe one of these days I’d be all for that type of reaction, but it keeps me from being able to hear her moans and judge her pleasure.
