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He fits his lips over my clit, sucking gently while he reaches up with one hand.
I cry out when his fingers slide into me, my pussy tightening around them in reflex.
He thrusts deeply, fucking me better with his fingers than some men have with their entire cock. As he moves them, he matches their pace with his tongue, seeming to know how to find every nerve.
I press one hand against the table, supporting my weight on it as I raise my hips, thrusting back against him.
With every movement, his fingers thrust deeper into me, and I scream out in pleasure, moaning loudly, no longer concerned if we’re caught or not.
I feel heat building in my core, fucking fireworks preparing to explode. I pull his head harder against me, grinding myself against his face.
He picks up on my imminent rupture, redoubling his efforts as I feel my orgasm build.
Finally, it’s all just too much.
I come hard against him, my hips thrusting, hand clinging roughly to his hair. Unintelligible sounds spew from my mouth in a rush. My hearing dims, my eyesight blurs, every sense seems to shut down in awe of his touch.
I can barely even hear myself screaming his name as I ride through this crashing wave of pleasure that seems to go on forever.
By the time it’s passed, my entire body is shaking. And when I return to the moment, I’m lying on the table, trying to catch my breath.
What a fucking winner I landed tonight. It’s hard to find a man that can make me come so hard and so fast, especially with just their mouth and a couple of fingers.
He’s every fucking woman’s dream—and I have him.
