“Fuck,” I breathe.
His hands stay firm on my ass, thumbs spread me wide, holding me open. His face is pressed between my cheeks, mouth hot, tongue moving in slow, deliberate passes that make it impossible to think straight. He doesn’t rush. He works me, methodically, like he is paying attention to every reaction my body gives him.
I can hear my own breathing, feel my pulse pounding everywhere at once. My legs tremble against the mattress, toes curling as his tongue traces the same path again and again until the muscles there start giving way on their own.
The tip of his tongue presses in. Just enough to make my entire body jolt.
A sound tears out of me before I can stop it, half moan, half gasp, and I push back against him without thinking, hips lifting like my body has already decided this is what it wants.
He growls low, the vibration hitting me straight through the nerves already lit up. His mouth pulls away just long enough to say, “Keep this ass up for me baby.”
His tongue returns to the same spot, slower now, firmer, pressing in and pulling back in a rhythm that makes my head spin. His hands never move from my ass, keeping me open, keeping me right where he wants me. I can feel how focused he is, like he is testing exactly how much pressure I can take before I come.
His hand slides between my thighs.
Two fingers drag through the slick there, spreading it, touching just enough to make my hips jerk again. He strokes my clit once, twice, then stays there, letting me feel the contrast. His tongue works my ass. His fingers remind me how wet my pussy already is.
My breath comes out in broken sounds against the pillow. Every nerve feels too close to the surface, like the smallest change will send me over the edge.
He presses his tongue in again, just a little deeper this time, holding it there for a second before pulling back. My fingers claw into the sheets as my body reacts, clenching, then easing.
He stays exactly where he is, working me open with his mouth while his fingers keep me soaked and sensitive.
Then he pulls back, and I feel him coat his fingers again. One thumb spreads me open while his slick fingertip circles the spot he just licked.
One finger pushes in.
I gasp, gripping the pillow tighter as my body clenches and then slowly gives way. He works it deeper until he is buried to the knuckle, then pauses, letting me feel it, letting my body adjust.
His free hand slides between my thighs, stroking once, teasing just enough to keep me open.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
I nod into the pillow. “Mhmm.”
He kisses my lower back just above the line of scars.
Behind me, his cock brushes my thigh when he shifts, his breathing heavier now. His finger moves again, easing in and out in small strokes that make my hips twitch.
“Stay still baby,” he murmurs. “Just breathe.”
I do.
The stretch feels strange at first, unfamiliar, but not painful. He doesn’t rush it. He lets me settle around him before moving again.
The rhythm starts slow. Small strokes that build heat little by little.
My legs spread slightly and he growls under his breath.
“Fuck, you’re doing so good baby.”
He slips a hand beneath my thigh, spreading me wider. He adds a second finger.
I gasp, my head tipping back.
“Too much?” he asks.
“No,” I whisper. “Just… keep going.”
