Or maybe I just forgot...
Impossible to forget this.
He finds every sensitive spot like he’s spelunking my pussy. His tongue does this thing that makes my back arch off the bed, and when I try to squirm away because it’s too much, his hands pin my hips down with effortless strength.
“Stay,” he commands against my pussy, and the vibration of his voice sends fresh heat rolling through me.
I’m making sounds I don’t recognize. Half-words and gasps and probably something that sounds embarrassingly like begging.
“Cor.. Cor.. Corin..” I slurp, one hand fisting his hair.
He adds his fingers, curling them just right, and I can feel another orgasm building already.
Which should be impossible.
I don’t cum multiple times.
That’s not how my body works.
I never came multiple times with anyone before. Not even him.
But apparently, I can now.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Let me hear you.”
The praise breaks me and I cum hard, one hand fisted in the sheets, the other tangled in his hair.
Through the haze I hear him make a choked sound. His whole body goes rigid. And when I manage to lift my head, I see the wet spot spreading across the front of his linen pants.
Did he just—
Oh my God he just came from going down on me.
He’s still kneeling there, breathing hard, looking slightly dazed.
“Sorry,” he says after a moment. “That wasn’t... I didn’t mean to...”
“Don’t apologize.” My voice comes out rough. “That was... that was really fucking hot.”
He laughs. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.”
He disappears into what I assume is the bathroom. I hear water running. While he’s gone I try to get my brain back online.
Okay.
Recap.
You came twice.
He came once.
Untouched.
From pleasuring you.
That’s... that’s actually incredibly validating.
Also terrifying because now you’re definitely going to overthink this tomorrow.
