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I sucked carefully, alert to every change in her breathing even though my own was loud in my ears. Maybe it was strange to toy with her breasts for my own pleasure rather than hers, but there was no one in the room to judge me. I played with them with my mouth and tongue until they were rosy and sensual in the soft light, the gleam of my saliva enhancing the color. I stroked my cock a few more times, taking some of my precum and wiping it on her soft mouth. Such a pretty mouth. Briefly, I considered masturbating into it, but no. I gripped my balls, not ready to finish this illicit exploration.
Damn. Her thighs were parted.
How was I supposed to resist doing more?
I sat back for a moment, admiring her, taking in the tumble of her hair, the opened shirt with her beautiful breasts spilling out, her naked pussy on display, like an invitation to take what I wanted.
I ran my fingers along her inner thigh, the silken feel of her skin making my dick bob. I swept my index finger over the copious amounts of precum leaking from my cock, gritting my teeth against the frustrating pleasure it brought, then moved my fingers between her thighs. I spread her labia, exposing her slit to the warm air of the room. Moisture glistened at her opening, as though her body was alert to what I was doing even though her brain slept on. I daubed the slickness from my cock against her clit hood, using it to lubricate the slide of my fingers over the little nub. Her clit hood piercing made me feel feral, as it always had.
Her body was reacting to me, even though she was unaware of my presence.
Why was touching her while she slept so achingly hot?
I rubbed her clit hood with gentle, teasing strokes, gathering more of my precum to keep my fingers slick. She shifted and quietly whimpered in her sleep. More moisture gathered at her entrance, then trickled, making me desperate for relief.
Fuck. Just imagining easing into her while she slept made my cock throb dangerously. I imagined her waking up in the middle of it—or maybe only waking up much later, sore and sticky and confused. Which would be better?
I lowered myself between her thighs, then dragged my tongue through the liquid approval her body offered. She tasted tart and smelled like heaven. I explored every inch of her sweet pussy, tasting, stroking. When I licked lower, her body shuddered. She mumbled something, and I froze in place, my tongue still on her, but she didn’t wake or push me away.
Feral for her, I stood and pushed my jeans lower, then moved over her, trying not to jostle the bed. Gently, I touched the weeping head of my cock to her slit, the warmth and dampness making me bite back a groan. It would take a saint to deny himself now, and no one would ever be silly enough to canonize someone like me.
Just a bit of penetration, and then I’d stop.
The touch of my cock head to her pussy made me shudder in anticipation. I dragged my dick up and down her opening, using my precum to make her body slicker. Carefully, I coaxed the head of my cock into her slippery warmth, bit by bit, shaking with the effort of not plunging fast and deep. I moved my hand on my shaft, stroking lightly, masturbating into her body. With curious fingers, I traced where we were joined, amazed her tiny pussy could bestuffed so full.
She mumbled in her sleep.
“Do you like that, princess?” I whispered. “Your hot little pussy is drooling for more, but I should probably stop.” My voice had begun to shake, and I struggled to control my breathing.
Her pussy fluttered around me, as though urging me deeper.
What gentleman would refuse an invitation like that?
No, Loïc. Stop.
But Loïc didn’t want to stop.
Loïc wanted to fill his woman’s needy pussy full of cum—to prop up her legs so none of his seed escaped her—to feed any that spilled out back into her.
I tried to bargain with my animal brain, that desperately wanted her heat, her warmth. And also…
Progeny.
Pull out.
I did not.
You may stir your hips once, then you must stop.
I meant to, but the biological imperative was insistent. I kept going, my movements so small, shallow, and slow, it was torture.
Do you want her to refuse to see you again?
Would she, though? She rarely did more than gently scold when I crossed the line. Somewhere in her beautiful mind, she had limits, but they rarely applied to me.
I eased my cock deeper, groaning silently at the hot grip of her. A few real strokes wouldn’t be much worse than what I’d already done, and she was still sound asleep.
One.
