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“I don’t have a lot up here, but I have some things.” He produces a shiny, small plug that doesn’t look too intrusive, and a little foil packet of lubricant. “You game?”
My head starts nodding as my brain catches up. “Yes. Please. Just... touch me again.” I know it’s been all take to this point, and I will reciprocate, I want to, I just... it feels so good. And he looks so fucking happy.
Ugh. I’m starting to love and loathe that roguish smile of his.
I expected a squirt of lube and cold metal being slid into my butt. But he settles back between my legs, tongue leisurely gliding through my lips, and his pinky back in my ass drawing small circles as he works me back up into a frenzy.
Tugging my arms, I fumble, groping to ball the sheets in my hands. Aren’t doms supposed to want you to do their bidding? What kind of dominant wants to make you come repeatedly on his tongue?
He pauses what he’s doing. “The pleasure kind.”
Fuck. Did I say that out loud? “Wh-wh-whaaaaaaa”
His tongue is back on my clit with a renewed determination. I don’t know how it’s not exhausted. Does he just spend hours waggling his tongue and practicing doing this to women until they black out?
I’m putting a pin in asking him what a pleasure dom is, in lieu of just enjoying the ride. It takes less than thirty seconds for him to make me scream his name so loudly the lightbulb sways. Or maybe it’s me that’s swaying, I have no fucking clue.
Right as I crest the wave and my release hits, another squirt of lube hits my ass before the small, cold metal plug slides into the hole. He doesn’t stop, he doesn’t let me breathe, or relax, or my muscles sag, he just keeps going. Licking and sucking and biting my clit with his mouth while he taps on my g-spot alternating between light touches and hammering at it like it owes him money.
I don’t know if the next orgasm that hits me is the same one that just finished, like, it never really finished, or a whole new one. But my legs tremble, and my body shakes so hard the bed is jiggling. I officially have no control over myself, and I’m sure there’s a growing patch of moisture under my ass from all the squirting I’m doing. I can’t stop coming.
This man is orgasm Satan. He’s going to make me come until I die and join him in the underworld.
“Check in.” He rubs his thumb on my clit as he lifts his head to ask me how I’m doing.
“I can see sound.”
He chuckles. “Check in, kitten. I’m not done with you yet, and I need to make sure you’re okay.”
My clit is swollen, raw, and if he keeps drumming at my g-spot he might punch a hole through my abdomen. But if he’s not done, I’m sure as hell not done either.
If this is my one-and-done shot with Thor’s tongue, I’m riding it all way to the end. And if my clit falls off when I get there, then I guess it’s just the price I have to pay for the best orgasms of my life.
“Green.”
“You sure?”
Nope. I’m pretty sure he’s sucking my soul out of my clit piece by precious piece. Am I gifting my soul to the orgasm devil? Sure feels like it.
Will I regret it? I dunno, we’ll find out.
“I’m sure. But I don’t think I can come again.”
He beams up at me before licking his lips. “Challenge accepted.”
Two more orgasms and a nap on his chest later, I wake up somewhere close to noon.
“Pancakes?” He smiles down at me like he has all the time in the world to take care of me.
“Don’t you want me to...” I’m not sure how to finish the sentence.
“Reciprocate? Suck my cock?”
I nod, needing to stretch out but a little afraid of what aches and pains await me.
“I told you earlier I was a pleasure dom, right?”
Another nod.
