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I suck her tongue into my mouth, and I imagine consuming her completely, owning her, keeping her. I think about what her cunt would taste like, the flavors I could get out of her with my tongue deep inside…
I need to taste her.
And she’s responding so eagerly, her fingers digging into my hips now, anchoring me to her as if she’s afraid I’ll slip away.
“Is this—okay?” I ask between feverish kisses, my voice barely audible in my own ears, my heart’s pounding so loudly.
“More than okay,” she tells me. And her lips crash into mine again, her tongue sliding inside my mouth like it’s looking for its home.
Desire floods my veins. “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy,” I half-laugh against her mouth, fingers threading through her hair. She gasps as I tug her head back, my lips trailing a path of fire down her neck.
“The feeling’s mutual,” she pants. “Oh, God.”
My core clenches with need. I tug at her shirt, impatient to feel her skin against mine. She pulls back, impatiently stripping off her shirt and then bra.
My breath hitches at the sight of her bare breasts, my hands reaching out to cup their weight. I roll her nipples between my fingers, relishing the sounds of pleasure spilling from her lips.
“I want to taste you,” I tell her. She whimpers as I sink to my knees in front of her, fingers deftly climbing up under her skirt, finding the satin panties she wears underneath. I tug them down and let my hot breath fan against her sweet little pussy, neatly trimmed, the scent of her arousal filling my nose as I press it into her soft curls.
“Please,” she begs, her hips bucking. I push her back until she falls onto the sofa again, knees spreading wide as I tug off her underwear completely and press a kiss to her inner thigh.
“Patience, darling.” I grip her hips, holding her in place. “I’m going to take my time with you.”
A strangled cry escapes her lips as my tongue slides through her folds, already dewy and delicious. Fuck, she’s going to be the death of me. Her fingers twist in my hair, urging me closer.
I’m drowning in the sensations, in the smell of her, the taste of her, the feel of her warm thighs, the sounds of her moans and the wet heat of her gorgeous cunt as I drive my tongue deeper.
Nothing else matters buther.
Her hips begin to rise off the couch, her legs falling wider, her back arching as I slip a finger inside her. I press my lips to her clit, flicking my tongue against it, sucking softly. I add a second finger, her inner walls clenching around me as I fuck her with my hand.
Her body is a gorgeous arch, her breasts thrust forward, head thrown back. Her moans fill the room, growing louder and louder as her orgasm approaches. I watch her, my own center aching with desire as she drives nearer and nearer her peak.
She bucks wildly into my face, her taste like an addiction, a drug, and I can’t get enough.
“Please,” she moans again, and I laugh against her pussy.
“What is it, darling?” I purr, pulling back to look at her. My God, she’s gorgeous, flushed, her eyes glazed with lust, hair tousled, her nipples tight and red. “Please what?” I ask again, my voice husky with desire.
“Fuck me,” shebreathes.
But I don’t want it to be over so fast. I want her here with me as long as possible.
So I sit up from my haunches, trailing my lips up her belly, over the swell of her breasts, gathering them together in my hands to suckle at them. Her back arches, pushing herself closer to me.
“Please, Alessa.”
“Not yet.”
I lavish her nipple with my tongue, teasing until she’s writhing beneath me. Her hands fist in my hair, holding my mouth there in place as my fingers slide between her slick folds again, never quite touching her clit, only teasing and stroking around it.
I don’t want her to come.
Not yet.
The instant she does, I’m terrified she’ll bolt. That post-org clarity can be such a bitch.
She begs again, her voice thin and reedy.Please, Alessa.
