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“You’re so beautiful like this.”His voice is low and thick with desire, and the words seem to make this last even longer for me, my body moving in that rhythm that I want to enjoy all night with him.
Then, just when I think the climax has loosened its grip on me, he dips his mouth to me again and prolongs it, stroking and licking me.
I want so much more than just this tonight.I want to feel his thickness and length entering me, stretching me out, joining him with me, and bringing me a completion that I know I shouldn’t feel.
I want to see how deeply he can thrust into me, making me scream at the same time I beg for more.
I feel nothing like myself right now.I feel like a siren, a temptress, and above all else, I feel desperate for as much as he’ll give me.
I’m still coming when he speaks again.
“You want more than just my fingers and tongue in you.”
It’s a statement, not a question, as the orgasm still holds me fast in its clutch.
“Yes!”I cry out.“I can’t—I need more—I need—” I can’t finish my words.
I need him in me right now.I want to feel him deep inside me while I come like this—so hard that I feel like my soul is propelled far out of my body.
And I know I won’t be able to come again like this tonight.I couldn’t possibly.
He seems to read my mind.“Go ahead, baby.Let it take over.I’ll get another and another out of you tonight.Promise.”
With that, the fire in me consumes me, and I let myself give in.I buck and thrust and ache and soar, and all the emotions seem to swirl into a pool of lust until I finally feel my soul settling back down into my body.
When the last aftershock of the climax leaves me, he kisses me gently, first on that tender nub, then to the moist flesh between my legs, making me shudder.
I hear the alarm he set on his phone.
Has it really been forty minutes?Did he really take that long to only focus on my needs rather than his own?
I could get addicted to this.
“Let it burn,” I suggest.“We can bake another pie.”
“Iknewyou were trying to distract me,” he laughs, standing despite what I said, and heading into the kitchen to pull it from the oven.“Wicked, wicked woman.”
I grin, watching his perfect naked form disappear behind my kitchen island as he slides oven mitts on his hands.
I giggle at the sight, never thinking that I’d have a man in my kitchen wearing oven mitts… and nothing else.
A sly smile sliding upwards to my cheeks, I call out to him, “Come back to the couch after your pie is safe, and I’ll show you just how wicked I can be.”
