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I'm going to let him fuck me – finally.
The thought of it makes my core throb almost painfully, because I need him to fill me up, to pound me hard and make me orgasm the way I've imagined for years. The next thing I know, my blouse is off, and I'm unlatching my bra and he's once again sucking my nipples like he can't get enough of me. He buries his face between them, squeezing and sucking until I'm squirming in need.
He stands up and turns me around, pointing to my skirt. "Take it off."
I comply, and while he removes his shirt and slacks, I'm unzipping the back of my skirt, letting it fall to the ground, leaving only my thong on. He's wearing a pair of black Joe Boxer boxer-briefs, his erection outlined clearly through the fabric.
My thong is skimpy see-through lace, flesh-colored, showing my very neatly trimmed pussy. When he pushes me back onto the bed, I almost laugh but then he drops his briefs and I get a look at what has been rumored, by those women of his who have talked about him, to be very thick and long.
They weren't exaggerating. It's both.
Knowing it will soon be inside of me makes my breath catch in my throat. I want to be impaled on him, and I don't care what position. Him on top. Me on top. From behind. Reverse cowgirl. It doesn’t matter. All I want is to feel him in me.
He pushes me farther up on the bed and when I reach down to remove my thong, he stops me with his hands.
"No," he says firmly. "Let me."
He licks me over the thin fabric, pressing his tongue exactly over my clit, which is throbbing in delight. Then, he strips them off me and throws them onto the floor. He spreads my thighs, his head hovering over my pussy, his eyes taking me in, roving over my body from my face down to my clit, which he's exposed with his fingers, spreading me wide.
"Nice and wet," he murmurs and bends down, covering me with his mouth, his tongue finding my clit and stroking firmly.
"Oh, God," I groan, and close my eyes. It feels so good and I know I'll orgasm quickly if he keeps that up.
He does keep it up, licking me firmly, then swirling his tongue over my entire slit, tonguing the entrance to my body, then slipping a finger inside me.
"So wet," he says again. "So ready."
He slips another finger inside me, then resumes licking and sucking my clit. Before I can warn him, I'm over the edge, the pleasure like fire through my veins, down my thighs and up into my chest.
"Oh, God, I'm coming," I say, and feel the first spasms of my flesh around his fingers, the pleasure so exquisite I'm panting from it. He doesn’t stop through my orgasm, just keeps licking me and sucking me, his fingers stroking inside of m
e. My pleasure goes on and on until it's too much and I have to stop him, pushing away his head.
"No, stop, please – it's too much…"
He finally stops, his fingers still inside me, his mouth poised over my pussy.
"That was fast," he says, grinning up at me like he's won. "You were ready."
I lie back, my eyes closed, not wanting to see the victory on his face and in his eyes. Yeah, I was fast. I haven't been eaten or fucked for a very long time. Having Jon eat me until I come is like the biggest turn-on I could imagine, and has populated my masturbatory fantasies for months.
Hell, a year…
"Don't relax just yet," he says and leans up, his fingers still deep inside of me, and kisses me. I can taste my saltiness on his tongue. He thumbs my clit, which is still swollen, pulsing occasionally in the aftermath of my orgasm. "I want another one of those, this time with my cock inside you."
"You're in charge," I say, my eyes closed, my arms thrown up over my head.
"I am," he says and I can hear the pleasure in his voice. He begins to suck my nipples once more. I'm not sure I can come again, but my core still feels achy and he may be able to work me up again if I just relax. I try to turn my mind off, turn off my awareness of the time and the reality of what's happening, and focus on how good it feels to have his mouth on me, sucking my nipple, biting it gently while his fingers continue to move inside me, his thumb pressing beside my clit, stroking all around it, avoiding direct contact.
He's damn good at this.
He finally pulls his fingers out of my body and it's then I realize we don’t have a condom.
"A condom," I say, my eyes flying open.
He rises, reaching over to his bag on the bed, and unzips a compartment. He searches inside it and removes a two-pack of condoms, ripping one open and then unrolling it over his erection.
Then he kneels between my thighs, and begins to stroke my pussy with the head of his cock. I'm so wet from his mouth and my own orgasm that it feels amazing, and I squirm beneath him.
