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She blinks, and a smile presses into her lips. I cover them with a hungry kiss and it’s not the same. We’re frantic, hands and tongues and teeth, kissing and sucking and biting until we’re both panting, overheated with our shared fever. I thread my fingers through her hair and unleash it from its elastic as she pulls my sweater over my head. Her fingers work at my zipper, and as I step out of my jeans, I tug on her soft green panties. Her breasts are bigger than a handful and shaped like teardrops, her pebbled rosy nipples pointing downward. I need to taste them.
I work my mouth down her body and trace my tongue around her nipple while I roll the other one between my fingers. She moans, her head rolling back and exposing her pretty throat.
“You like that?” I mumble against her soft flesh.
“That feels so good,” she groans.
I lick the flat of my tongue across her hard bud as I give her other nipple a little pinch and she cries out. Her fingers thread through my hair, holding me to her breast as I suck and nip and lave her nipple with hunger I doubt I’ll ever fill.
“I’ve been dreaming of this for months, thinking of this while I stroke myself at night,” I say, pressing kisses to the underswell of her breasts as I work my way to her other nipple.
She moans and I wrap my free hand around her back, palming her heart-shaped ass cheeks as I play with her breasts. She’s panting and gasping and I can’t wait any more to taste her.
I press kisses down her stomach, licking the indent of her belly button, breathing in as I work toward her soft mound.
“I need to taste you, baby,” I say, nudging her legs apart and hooking her knee over my shoulder.
She grabs on to the bed as she watches me part her folds with my fingers. “Zeke,” she whispers. She’s wet and slick and hot, and my dick jumps at the sensation of her juices coating my fingers.
“Is this all for me, baby?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says.
“How long has this been for me,” I ask, as I swirl my fingertip around her clit.
She groans at the sensation, and I slip my finger down, circling her opening.
“How long?” I ask again.
“March,” she says, licking her lips. “Last March. When we met.” My stomach muscles tense.
“Have you been touching this pretty pussy thinking of me?” I ask, watching my finger disappear into her center.
She’s so tight, and my dick swells again. I reach down and squeeze the head of it to relieve some of the pressure.
“Yes.”
“You’ve been thinking of me breathing in your pussy? Watching me fuck you with your fingers?”
“Fuck… yes…”
“Is that all?” I ask, leaning in and running the tip of my tongue over her clit.
Her hips buck and a strangled sound comes from her throat.
“Your mouth…” she says between pants as I take another little taste.
“What else?”
“Your dick,” she gasps. “My cum all over your dick…” She’s wild and frenzied and I can’t hold back any longer.
I flatten my tongue against her, licking from opening to clit, while I pump my finger in and out of her slowly. She lets out a low, guttural moan, and her hips buck. I trace my tongue back and forth from opening to clit, all while fucking her with my fingers. She moans and writhes against me, and I can’t get enough of it.
I’ve pictured this, jerked off to the fantasy, more times than I can count. But her musky scent, her sweet taste—once will never be enough.
“Oh my god,” she says, threading her fingers through my hair and pulling me into her pussy.
I smile at the way she’s losing control, and I let her hold me against her, fucking my face.
