“I do like ice cream,” he says, because of course he does.
“Do it, Charlie. Make me feel good.”
That snaps him out of making silly comments. He brings his mouth to my pussy and licks at the tip of my clitoris, once, twice and then again and again. It resuscitates my arousal and I am pleased that he is doing exactly what I asked, but still, I need more.
“That’s good, Charlie, really good,” I say and his hum at the praise is something that I mentally store away somewhere, not least because of how good the vibration of the noise feels on my clit. “Now use your tongue to explore more of me. And use your hands to pull my lips apart. Look at me.”
“You’re beautiful,” he says after I feel him stretch me open. I flinch hearing the compliment, like I always do. I’m normally the one dishing out praise and flattery.
“Get back to work, Charlie.” I place my hand on the back of his head and push him closer, lower.
Still using long, liberal licks, his tongue probes my inner labia and then my entrance, I feel myself clench involuntarily. “Put your tongue inside me. I want to feel you there.”
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he tells me before quickly complying.
I am maybe even more surprised than him that I don’t have a reply. What I do have is warmth in my cheeks and the feeling that my insides are melting, and it’s not because he is somehow managing to curl his tongue up and get so close, so, so close to my G spot.
“Your tongue feels so good inside me,” I say rather than acknowledge the praise he gave me. If Charlie was someone I saw myself having more than a night of fun with, I would tell him that I don’t like that, that I prefer to be the one to dish out compliments. But this is not something we are going to ever do again so there’s no need to be pedantic.
He mumbles an incomprehensible reply and I grip the back of his head with a bit more force. His hair really is so silky smooth and soft; I wonder what shampoo he uses.
“That’s good,” I tell him as he pierces me again with his tongue, the nub of his nose rubbing against my clit. “So good, Charlie, stay there a bit longer.”
It doesn’t surprise me that he obeys that order just as quickly and diligently as he did each one before. I wasn’t lying when I said I like to be in control in bed, and I know it really, really shouldn’t be the case but there is something especially invigorating and empowering that I am dishing out orders to a man and that it’s a man that is working so hard to please me.
“Back to my clit, Charlie,” I say and my voice doesn’t sound as level as it did a moment ago, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he wastes no time moving up to take my clit in his mouth.
“Suck on it,” I say and my knees buckle when he does. It seems to shock him because he comes off me, right when I really don’t want him to.
“Are you okay?” he asks looking up at me. His hair is a mess because of the way my hands have been clawing through it and his lips still glisten with my arousal. I nod at him as I bring a finger to his mouth and trace the length of his bottom lip from left to right.
“I’m fine,” I say and then holding his eye contact I suck that finger into my mouth and close my eyes as I taste myself. When my eyes open, he’s palming himself through the material of his trousers again.
“Want me to take care of that?” I ask him.
He looks down. “No, I want you to come. I want to feel you come on my mouth.”
Fuck. Such a pretty, dirty mouth.
“Then back to it. Suck on my clit again, then lick it. Lick all around it too. Up and down. Side to side. Swirl your clever little tongue all around it.”
I’m rewarded by another vibrating noise by Charlie, this time it’s more like a groan and I look down and see while his eyes are closed, eyelashes fluttering, his hand is now rubbing up and down his erection with a steady rhythm. I kick my foot to knock his hand off himself.
“What the—” He pulls back again.
“I’ll look after that later,” I say with a serious voice. Then I open my legs a little wider and rock my hips forward. “I need you to focus on making me come, Charlie.”
When I act like this in bed, especially with a new lover, it’s always a risk. A risk that they’ll not want to be bossed around. A risk that they will not take kindly to being deprived their own pleasure or orgasm. A risk that they will feel less motivated to follow my orders. But if Charlie feels any of these things, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he grips my hips and yanks my pussy to his face.
“Yes, Charlie,” I say when he finds my clit again with his tongue. “More, Charlie.” I gasp as he licks lower and sticks his tongue in my entrance where I squeeze him. “Such a good boy, Charlie,” I tell him when he goes back to my clit again and uses his tongue to circle it in a steady rhythm that takes me so, so, so close…
“Put two fingers inside me,” I order and while there’s a little fumbling as he does so, once they’re inside me I don’t even have to tell him to curl them towards my front wall. And when they’re there, stroking my clit from the inside, I finally cross that bridge that takes me to my inevitable orgasm. Now it’s not a question of if, it’s a matter of when.
“Deeper, deeper,” I order.
“Lick slower,” I demand.
“More pressure, more Charlie.” I moan as I reach behind me for something, anything to support myself, but instead I end up yanking a handful of coats off their hangers and onto the floor.
