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Her underwear is in the way, which frustrates her. She shoves them aside, opening herself further up to me, but I chuckle smugly as that’s the reason I left them on—to have her on the cusp of exploding before I give in.
As I work her into a wild mess, I play with her clit, unable to get over the sight of her coming undone because of me. I enjoy going down on women. I prefer it to sex, to be honest. Being able to dominate someone to the point of them losing complete control is what I like.
Sex is the hard part. The intimacy makes me uncomfortable because someone always wants more, and I don’t have any more to give. Being with them, vulnerable that way, isn’t something I enjoy. But now, all I want is to be lost in Babydoll as I know my demons will play well with hers.
I just want to let go.
With a guttural groan, I give her what we both want, and with a sharp tug, tear off her underwear. Her pussy glistens under the light, the slickness awakening an even deeper hunger within. Without thought, I lie down on my stomach, position one of her legs over my shoulder, and take her cunt into my mouth.
Babydoll cries out, clutching the top of my arms for support as I devour her without apology. She tastes how she smells—like vanilla—and I want more.
Rubbing her flesh against my face, I slather myself with her honey, taking her into my mouth as I sink my tongue in deep. Up and down, in and out, I fuck her with my tongue and mouth, licking, sucking, leaving no part of her untouched.
She bucks against my face, using the heel of her foot to coax me in deeper. She is the one holding me prisoner, and usually, I wouldn’t like it. I would feel suffocated, claustrophobic, but not with her. She tenderly runs her fingers through my hair, moaning and shuddering with each flick of my tongue.
Her pussy is scalding, burning me alive, but I want more, so I add a finger to the mix, showing no mercy as I eat her out. Gripping her thigh, I extend it out further as I want her all over me. I want her aching, her legs resembling jelly, so she’ll think of me tomorrow with each step she takes.
My finger and tongue are in a race with one another, sprinting toward the finish line as I punish Babydoll with torturous strokes. Her back bows off the couch, and she uses my hair as reins, pinning me to her pussy. She is confident and knows what she wants—and that is the kind of lover I want.
I want someone to take from me, demand I serve her like a queen. I want an equal, in every way there is. I want someone to challenge me, infuriate me until I’m ready to explode, because that eruption will result in something utterly sinful…just like this.
“Ahh, Punky!”
Gripping her waist, I keep her restrained as I work her into a frenzy. She writhes and moans. “Please, oh God…it hurts…but it hurts…so damn good.”
It pleases me that Babydoll doesn’t mind a little pain because I can give her that. Everything else is foreign to me. But being with her this way feels almost innate as though we’ve done this a thousand times before.
We click, in every way, which has never happened before.
She is slathered all over me, and I wonder what my face looks like because her pussy is covered in slashes of black and white. My dick is so hard, I’m afraid I’ll come in my pants like a horny wee lad.
Babydoll pumps her hips against my face, fucking me as I’m fucking her, and when I suck her clit, she comes loud and hard. I keep her pinned, holding her pussy prisoner as I milk every last tremor from her body.
Her curses are moaned, and holy fuck, if it’s not the hottest sound I’ve heard, then I don’t know what is. The last shudder leaves her, and her body grows lax. With one last kiss over her perfect pussy, I sit up and wipe my mouth because I’m a messy eater, but I thoroughly enjoyed that meal.
Sprawled across the couch, Babydoll attempts to catch her breath. I like seeing her here, in my home, sated because of me.
I’m about to stand because my erection threatens to have me walking with a permanent limp, but the moment I do, Babydoll slides over and straddles me. She loops her arms around my neck, still breathless and spent. Her cheeks are scarlet, and a satisfied look paints her face.
Instantly, I stiffen as I don’t like this intimacy. She’s too close. I turn my cheek, but she stops me, coaxing me to look at her as she places a finger under my chin.
“You just ate me out like I was your last meal, and now you can’t bear to touch me?”
“It’s not that,” I reply, not wishing to offend her.
“Then what?”
“I, I don’t like this sort of…touchin’.”
She arches a brow, confused.
“I don’t like being this close to someone,” I confess, feeling emotionally inapt. “I feel…caged in. I feel like I can’t breathe.”
She purses her lips, weighing over what I’ve just shared, but she doesn’t get off. She isn’t repulsed or mad. “What happened to you?”
“Ya don’t want to know,” I counter, gripping the cushion beneath me.
“Yes, I do,” she gently argues. “That’s why I asked.”
