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“Pinch it harder,” I said, and she complied. The pinch made her gasp with delight, and a flush spread over her body, a color that lit up against the red of the outfit. I was the one giving directions, but she was in total control. The balance of power was precarious and hot.
How long could I watch this for before I came in my pants? Not much longer, my brain offered. But I was having too much fun to stop.
“Take off your… belt,” I said, indicating the thing around her waist. She expertly undid a series of intricate clasps, and threw it to the side. All that was left now were stockings, heels and a very tiny pair of underwear.
I knew exactly what I wanted her to do. “Turn around, bend over and slowly, slowly pull your underwear down,” I ordered.
Catya turned, never taking her eyes from me until she at last pivoted her neck to match her body’s alignment. She then bent over, red silk flashing from between her thighs. She hooked two thumbs in the edges of the panty and slid it down her ass, one single millimeter at a time. My cock strained against its cotton sheath as she at last revealed her perfect pussy, calling to me out from the gap between her legs.
I wanted to cross the room right now and put my mouth against that sensitive flesh and lick her to completion, but I held back.
She dropped the underwear to the ground, where it pooled around her feet like a crimson lagoon.
Still leaning over, she asked me through her legs, “Now the stockings?”
I shook my head. “Leave those on.”
With that, I finally gave into my temptation. I strode across the room, grabbed her ass, and pressed my mouth to her lips — her pussy lips, that is.
She moaned with pleasure, bent over at the waist and helpless to the flicking of my tongue. I made circles, squares, the whole alphabet on her lips, and felt her slickness against my dry mouth. She became shaky on her heels, her legs quivering with pleasure, so I laid on my back and pulled her ass down to meet me, until she was sitting on my face and I was eating her pussy like it was a late night snack. Her taste was even better than I remembered from in the forest.
“Yes, yes,” she moaned. “Yes, Simon, don’t stop.”
She ground her pussy against my mouth, using me as her own personal tool of pleasure. Her heels were inches from my ears, their lethal points caging my head.
She leaned forward, bracing herself against my legs as I quickened my pace, thrusting my tongue in and out, then focusing on her clit, licking it over and over.
“I’m gonna come,” she whispered.
I responded by pulling her closer, then reaching my hand over her thigh and around to her front, where my finger latched onto the small pearl that was her clit. I was eating her out from behind and plucking her from the front.
Catya was helpless, stimulated beyond belief, and at my complete mercy.
She cried out my name, then doubled forward, her body quaking as orgasm after orgasm rolled through her. I kept my tongue and finger in place, working her over, forcing her to a second orgasm. Her screams were vigorous enough to snuff out a couple of nearby votives.
At last, she sat up from her place on my knees, then untangled our limbs so that she could turn around and face me.
“Okay,” she said, her face red and bosom heaving. “Your turn.”
The rest of the evening was a blur. A delicious blur.
We had sex on the bed, on the floor, in the shower, up against the sink, and possibly other places that I’ve since forgotten, as there were just too many for one man to remember. There were also too many orgasms for one man to remember, and certainly more than any one man deserves. We came again and again and again in each other’s arms, our stamina stretching into the wee hours as though we were on meth or GHB. But no, it was a stronger drug — sexual attraction.
I touched Catya in all the ways she yearned to be touched. We learned things about one another’s bodies that I’d remember for the rest of my life, played back like a movie on my deathbed — the exact spot on her ass where she enjoyed being slapped, the place on her lower back where my hand should go, the rhythm her pussy responded to. It felt as though I were Indiana Jones, discovering within an ancient temple the secrets of life and of pleasure. Had I even lived before today? I certainly hadn’t fucked, not really, until now.
At last, we landed in bed and rolled off one another, panting and heaving, our eyes staring up at the stucco ceiling as we caught our breath. In the corner of my vision, I could see her chest rising and falling, the way it had after we’d run through the woods.
