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It was torture, his light, exploring caressing. I wanted more. I wanted heat and pressure. I wanted him to tear into me and leave marks for me to remember him by.
“I need to get you ready. I want this to be good for you.” He leaned down again and laved his tongue up my neck before biting gently into the flesh there. It was just enough on the border of pleasure-pain that I could feel my body respond to him viscerally, becoming slick enough to almost be embarrassing.
“That’s my girl. I’ve been dreaming of this since…”
“Huh?” I asked, his words slipping away from me like water. He’d been dreaming of what?
“Nothing,” he said, his teeth nibbling along my chin. Before I could question him further, his fingers finally slid into me and my hips bucked right up off the bed.
“Fuck, yes!” I cried, still to tipsy to make very good dirty talk. And wow, I was quickly growing drunk on his expert ministrations, tension building up in me like a geyser.
His fingers crooked inside of me, finding that spot up against my pelvic bone that I didn’t know would make sparks fly behind my eyes. But that’s exactly what it did, and I found myself bucking up into him.
“I’m ready,” I cried out, feeling sweat start to pepper my body. “I’m ready right now.”
“No, shhh,” he mumbled, lips everywhere on me. “Can you come for me first? I want you to do that.”
“No,” I whined, wanting him inside me without waiting another second. Apparently, alcohol made me spoiled, who knew. “I want you now.”
His hand supporting me slid out from behind my back and instead pressed down on the softness of my lower stomach. Something about the pressure there made me feel the movement of his fingers that much more intensely and I let out a wanton gasp.
“There you go. Come for me and then I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“But I want you.”
“Then you’ll have me. I promise.”
I let out another mewl, and his mouth found my other nipple, his tongue rasping against it. At the same time, his thumb shifted to rest right against my clit, and he pressed it in three quick circles.
All of my muscles tensed almost to the point of pain, then released suddenly, throwing me into the most intense orgasm that I could remember. I tried to buck up against him, a strained cry escaping my throat, but his hand on my belly held me fast while his fingers continued to work me through my entire climax.
“Fuck, Mickey, fuck!”
“That’s it, baby girl, scream my name.”
And I did scream it, letting myself feel every drop of pleasure and ecstasy with utter abandon. I loved it. I loved it even if I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. I could only white-knuckle hold on as paradise itself washed over every bit of me.
When I came back down from my trip to heaven, Mickey was shifting his weight. I blinked at him, happy and sated, but my interest perked right back up when I saw him line up his manhood with my wet, wet center.
“Relax for me, baby,” he murmured, shifting forward.
Wow.
Oh wow.
Even with my orgasm and his thorough readying, I could still feel my vagina protesting to the stretch of him. For a moment there was an unpleasant pinch-burn, but Mickey stilled almost instantly.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
I nodded, wiggling a little and letting my thighs fall open as far as they could go. “Yeah. I just need a minute.”
“Take all the time that you need,” he practically growled into the side of my neck, making my entire body gear right back up again. “I could be inside of you forever.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” I murmured back, feeling excitement circumvent the unpleasantness that had been flooding me just moments earlier. “I think I’m ready.”
“You sure?”
I nodded and he slid forward carefully, bit by bit, until he was fully sheathed inside of me.
Yes.
Now that was what I had been waiting for. I felt so full, almost to bursting, and it was satisfying everything I had been craving. But at the same time, there was so much more in store for me and that thrill was everything.
He must have felt my body comply to his entrance because suddenly he was moving in a frenzy against me, hips slamming into me over and over again. The drag of him pulling out of me punctuated by his hard-thrust back in was the perfect rhythm and all I could do was hold on for everything that I was worth.
The pleasure built up inside of me quickly, or maybe it didn’t. Time seemed slipshod and uncanny, twisting this way and that as Mickey showed me exactly how powerful his musculature made him. His lips pressed into me everywhere while his hands were at either of my hips, fingers pressing in so hard I knew that I would have prints of them in the morning.
