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He watches me as he does it, though, and just like from the very first night with him, it’s the watching that is the real turn on. His tongue finds my clit, and it’s wonderful and overwhelming, but more than anything, I feel vulnerable with him like this.
He’s clothed and I’m naked. He’s in control and I’m losing it. I feel like I’m just a toy for him to play with, except that I’m the one who was basically begging him to do this to me. However hard that is to wrap my mind around, it’s the truth.
The worst part? I wish he were naked so I could get a hold of his cock. I don’t know whether I’d rather stroke it or suck it, but something about touching his cock while he plays with me like this gives me some of the power back. That’s probably not going to happen right now.
“You taste so fucking good,” he says as he picks his head up to breathe. How does he make me feel like I want to blush like this? I mean, we just went skinny dipping together, and I was the one putting my hand down his pants in a back alley. But those words are what redden my cheeks?
He runs his fingers along my lips, his touch lighter than a feather, and then he brings his glistening finger to his lips and smiles as he tastes me again. “I think I could drink you dry, Addison. Maybe I’ll do just that,” he growls as he puts his face between my legs again.
Instead of focusing on my clit, he shoves his tongue deep inside me, something he’s never done before, and when he makes circles along my entrance, it’s just too much. I try to push away, but his hands hold me still, like vises.
“It’s too much,” I whisper right before I moan. Lightning shoots through me, making my body jerk, but Phillip just keeps licking. There’s that feeling in the pit of my stomach again, that feeling like I’m going to burst, except that this time, I don’t have any control over it.
I can’t push his face harder or scoot back a little when it gets too much. No, he’s in control, and I feel myself let go. The lightning still rushes through me, and my body still quakes and shivers, but I don’t struggle in his grasp.
The feeling just keeps building while he watches me. His tongue flicks back to my clit, this time pressing harder and more insistent. “God Phillip, it feels so good,” I moan. “How do you make me feel like this?”
He doesn’t respond. His tongue is far too busy driving me freaking crazy. His fingers dig in harder, but then they let go. For a half-second, my body tries to scoot away, but his hands find my breasts and begin mauling them. It’s too much, and the pressure building inside me explodes outward in a deep moan and full-body trembles.
I expect Phillip to stop, but he doesn’t. His tongue just moves faster, more insistently, and what I’d thought would be a great orgasm transforms into something else. Something almost unpleasant, and I realize he was right to say what he did earlier.
“Please stop,” I whisper between moans. And he does. My body is a traitorous bitch, though, and even when I can’t handle the sensations, it wants more and grinds against the empty air. Phillip may not be licking me, but his hands on my breasts keep me expecting more.
He sits up, a grin on his face. “Just stop altogether?”
I’m still grinding, and I know what my body wants. “I need your cock, not your tongue. Please?”
“As you request,” he says almost formally and stands up. This time, it’s me watching like a wolf eyeing a rabbit. I remember the first time that he stripped in front of me, and this is not like that. The clothes come off smoothly, as though he’d moonlighted as a stripper in a past life or something.
When his cock finally comes to view, my mouth waters. That’s what brings me all the pleasure in the world. But what if he does the same thing with that? What if he fucks me until I’m begging him to stop?
He reaches into the dresser drawer as he strokes his cock in front of me. He pulls out a condom from the box we bought and grins down at me. Seeing him move his hand over his cock only makes me want it more. I don’t care if he tortures me with it. I can’t imagine ever telling him to stop.
“Flip over,” he commands. For the first time, I see that part of him that could demand obedience in the office blend with the Phillip I’ve gotten to know over the past two weeks.
I’m on my hands and knees in a heartbeat, my pussy dripping with need, and when I look behind me, he’s got the condom on and looking at me with hungry eyes.
He runs his finger over my slit as he kneels behind me. “Such a pretty little pussy. So slick and ready for me.” He’s not even talking to me. He’s just commenting and letting me hear him.
When he lines up with my entrance, my body tries to relax, but I’m too needy for him. I know the pleasure that’s waiting, and his tongue between my legs pales in comparison.
Instead of just thrusting, though, he slaps my ass. I jerk, surprised by the action and the sting that’s turning my skin red. He thrusts and with his other hand, he grips my hip while he slaps my ass again. Every time he fucks me, it feels like he’s splitting me in two, but this spanking thing is new.
And I fucking love it.
My arms are shaking as I look back at Phillip, but just like earlier, he’s looking between my legs. “Have you ever begged for someone to come, Addison?” he growls.
I quiver as his left hand grips my ass and he slams into me. I’d have fallen forward, but the hand on my hip holds me in place as he treats me like his little fuck doll even more. “No,” I moan.
The hand on my ass slides across my skin to my hair, and he balls his fist in it before pulling it tight. My head is pulled back, and I’m forced to look at the wall instead of Phillip as he begins to really fuck me.
“It hurts. Please don’t stop.” The words tumble out of me with no control or filter. As soon as they’re out, I barely know I’ve said them.
My fingers tighten in the comforter as his cock finally stretches me out enough that his balls are slapping my clit. My insanely sensitive clit. I’m still riding the aftershocks of that orgasm, and now each thrust is sending that liquid lightning through me.
And I can’t see Phillip. Nothing except a shadow on the wall out of the corner of my eyes. I can’t take my eyes off it. My body is experiencing things that I barely comprehend now that I can’t see the man who’s doing it. The shadow on the wall is the only difference between this and wearing a blindfold.
I know he’s still watching me, though. I know he’s watching my ass shake as he slaps it. He’s listening to me moan when he slams into me. It all goes back to being a plaything for him.
