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“What else turns you on?” He runs his fingers under the band, gripping as he starts to tug them down.
“You,” I answer.
He stops and meets my gaze again, studying me in silence before he continues moving his hands down, keeping his eyes fastened to mine, even when my panties lower to reveal me to him.
“What about me?”
“The way you played with my breasts. Like they were your only focus,” I admit, my chest rising and falling faster as the panties reach my knees.
“They’re beautiful breasts,” he tells me. “And needed my undivided attention. But now there’s something else that is equally as beautiful and deserves to be worshipped as well.”
My panties slide down my calves to my ankles, and I’m already half a second from coming. This man could give lessons in foreplay.
One tap to my right hip, and I lift that leg, my knees and thighs quivering. Thanks to his story, I know what comes next. I’m ready to lift my left leg when he speaks again.
“Your panties are soaked.” He rubs his fingers along the fabric.
“For you,” I say.
My heartbeat thuds in the silence that stretches between us. Maybe not loud enough that he can hear it, but it drowns out every other thought that exists outside of this moment.
Finally, his right hand slides up my calf. It smooths around to the back of my leg, his fingers wrapping around the muscle.
Tap.
I lift my foot, and he grabs the panties with his other hand. He lifts my leg higher, stretches it until I straddle his shoulder, then his hand glides back down my foot. The anticipation simmers in my blood, my only focus on the way he’s looking at me, the way his hands feel against my skin. The way time seems to slow until I can only hear the pounding of my heart and the scrape of air into my lungs.
“Do you remember what happens next?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me,” he growls.
“Your t-t-tongue,” I stammer.
“What about it?”
“You’re going to lick me. From back to front.”
“What else?”
I can barely make out the question through the hunger in his tone.
“Garrett,” I groan, desperate for him to make good on his story.
“What else?” he repeats.
“You’re going to circle my clit. Use your teeth and y-your fingers,” I manage to get out.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t let go of your dress.” It’s the last thing he says to me before he leans forward.
The first touch of his tongue is lightning against my pussy. Nerve endings sizzle throughout my body. His right hand holds my thigh up as he licks along the seam and reaches the bundle of nerves at the top.
“Aaaah,” I cry out, my dress falling slightly as I clench my fingers in his hair.
