Page 76 of First in Line

It feels like an explosion, a sudden burst of lust, and love, and need that can’t be contained. But it’s not like we’re even trying to. No, we’ve both given up on that. What’s the point of trying to stop the inevitable? Nothing but a waste of energy.

She tastes minty, and the smell of whatever cream she applied for the night is still strong. It’s a soft, sophisticated scent, but it might as well be the headiest perfume in the world with the way my head spins.

Lost in her taste, her scent, I let my hands course all over her body as our kiss grows even wilder, our motions impatient and feverish. The thickness of her robe prevents me from truly enjoying every curve and dip of her body, and it robs me of the softness of her skin. So, I pull it up, bunching it at the belt holding it closed, and fill my hands with her bare ass.

She moans in my mouth as I knead the flesh, clinging onto me harder. When yet again, this isn’t enough, I tug at the knot of the belt with avid hands. It resists a little, but I can’t look down because I’m not letting go of her lips. I don’t need to, as she comes to my aid, untying the belt herself.

The robe opens, hanging loosely on her shoulders, and one of my hands rushes to fill itself with the full swell of her tit. It fills my palm, its weight familiar, smooth, and soft as I fondle it. Her breasts have always been generous, even at fifteen. But during those first few years together, as she matured into a woman, I noticed with awe that there was more and more to worship and play with.

“Jax,” she moans when I pinch the hardened tip. She arches into me, pressing herself onto my rigid cock.

“Where?” I grunt. “Where do you want me?”

“Upstairs. My bed’s upstairs.”

Grabbing her ass with both hands again, I pick her up, lifting her into my arms. She wraps her thighs around my waist as I begin our ascent. But between the heated kiss, my lack of familiarity with her house, and the way my head spins from the high intensity of the moment, I stumble on the fourth step.

I break our fall so softly, ensuring she doesn’t get hurt, that I’m not even sure she notices, too busy kissing me.

Fuck the bed. This is happening here and now.

When her greedy hands tug at the back of my T-shirt, I rip myself away to pull it off completely.

Looking down at her afterward, I lose my ability to talk or even think properly. Her robe only covers her arms below the shoulders, flat on the steps behind her, and I all but revel at the view. She’s the most gorgeous sight there’s ever been. Precious, perfect curves and dips wrapped in soft, pale skin. Those pink, pebbled nipples have my mouth aching for a taste, and the curly patch between her legs has me salivating.

Her hooded eyes are heavy with lust, and when she tries to press her knees together, all it does is trap my hips between them as her body arches, her tits lifting in clear invitation. And I’m too starved to resist such an offer.

So, with one hand leaning on the step beside her and the other grabbing a soft swell, I lunge forward and wrap my lips over the hard tip on the other side.

The little cry she lets out, back lifting to press herself deeper into my mouth, makes me suck harder, my tongue circling the puckered surface. She was always so sensitive to my touch. Always so eager for it. And I was, still am, devoted to giving her anything she wants. Any fucking thing.

Her hands return to my head, nails digging into my scalp as she guides me, pressing for more.

My cock aches between us, even as I rub myself onto the warmth of her pussy. I’m desperate for some relief, fucking dying for it. I haven’t been with a woman since the day she came back into my life. There was no desire for it. Not if it wasn’t with her. That means I’ll be coming embarrassingly fast. And I fucking hate that. I want to be inside her the whole night, to fuck her until we’re nothing but dehydrated and panting, sore all over, and exhausted.

It seems she wants the same thing, because she begs, “Jax, I need you inside me. Please…”

Not yet. Not quite yet.

Letting go of the nipple in my mouth, I move on to the other one, mirroring my thorough treatment. And when she moans my name again, I let it go to begin my journey down. I want to taste every inch of skin I come across, so I do. My lips and tongue fervently sample her smoothness as I lower down her perfect body, all the way to the drenched path I crave.

Once I reach it, I kiss the curly mound and, adjusting myself, settle one of her legs over my shoulder. As much as I want to lickher and fill my mouth with her taste, I take a moment to admire this part of her first. Still my favorite pussy in this entire world. So pink, so perfect, and so fucking wet. It’s practically seeping out of her, much like the precum wetting my tip.

My tongue tingles with the need to sample her. I did it that evening, licking her off my finger, but there’s nothing quite like getting it right from the source. So, I don’t resist the urge and lower my face between her thighs, hungrily running the pointed tip of my tongue over the length of her slit, bottom to top.

She shivers under me, crying out my name, and I don’t need more encouragement to keep going. I lap at her until she’s everywhere in my mouth, then I lock onto the swollen crest that demands my attention. Again, I wish I had longer hair when her trembling hand comes to my scalp. I used to love the ache of her tugs prickling down my spine as I ate her out.

I all but feast on her, doing exactly what she prefers, what she wants. This is the only way I know how to eat pussy. I learned with her, through every one of her moans and whimpers. I know she’s slightly more sensitive to the right, and that if I suck hard, she’ll jolt with a mix of pain and pleasure, but the licks that I soothe her with will have her left thigh shaking uncontrollably.

I’ve been sexually active these past six years. Quite a lot, actually. But I didn’t make a habit of going down on the random women I spent my nights with. And the rare times I did, I didn’t bother finding out what they preferred. It didn’t matter to me. Not as much as it does now.

“Jax!” Evie cries out, back arching off the steps.

As I look up, the temptation of her quivering tits has me reaching up to them, fondling them. “Come for me, princess. Come so I can shove my thick cock in your tight little pussy.”

I don’t give her a choice but to comply, locking in on her clit, tormenting it in a way I know will make her shatter. And sure enough, it works.

Her orgasm echoes around us, sweet cries that resemble agony more than pleasure. But the throbbing against my tongue and the trembling of her legs are all pleasure and bliss.