She slid her mouth and hand up and down his length, her clit throbbing every time the involuntary suckling sounds she made rumbled in her chest.
Masaki may have been on the receiving end of what was proving to be a glorious blow job in her estimation, but the work she was putting in had her juices flowing, running a streak of warm, clear fluid from her cunt down her inner thigh.
She heard his moans become deeper and louder above her head. She felt him tangle his fingers in her locs, tightening until it was almost too painful to move. He applied enough pressure to keep her head still, and began a rhythmic up and down motion of his hips.
“Fuck woman,” he hissed through closed teeth. “You think you're slick. You think I'm gonna lose my nut after a few swipes of your talented tongue.”
The pace and force he was using was punishing, but with each snap of his hips, she was that much closer to her own release. He hadn't touched her. But the way he was using her mouth, it felt dirty, decadent, and made every nerve ending she possessed spark with need.
“I was easy on you in the mountains,” he hissed “But, here, I'm coming the way I always do.” He continued as he leveled a few more strokes. “Buried deep inside my pussy.”
He pulled free of her mouth, taking a few breaths to regain his strength, then he stood up and gathered his jeans that were on the floor, pulling a foil packet out of one of his pockets.
He laid the unopened condom on the side table and laid down against the length of the sofa, his head resting against the cushioned armrest.
He looked down to where she sat on the floor and curled his finger. “Come here and sit on my face.”
God, the power in his voice made her quiver with need. She closed her eyes, a feeble attempt to prepare for the onslaught she knew was coming. Between the deep rumble of his voice and the sinister look in his half-closed eyes, she realized she was in trouble.
When Oshun opened her eyes, he was slowly stroking himself from root to tip, his finger slowly rubbing a circular pattern at the tip. When she licked her lips, he passed his thumb through the dew drop of desire at his slit and offered it to her.
She moved quickly on shaky hands and knees until she reached his side. She latched onto his offered finger with the desperation of a starving woman, moaning when his strong yet sweet flavor spread across her tongue. It was just a taste. A small taste at that, and it made her burn with a fresh wave of desire.
She stood up, bending one knee at the side of his head, and extending her other leg so that her foot was firmly on the floor. Her stance left her feeling exposed and needy as she straddled him. She was certain that was exactly the way Masaki wanted her now. He positioned himself directly under her, burying his face between her swollen labia, lapping at her clit, sending electric shocks of fire through her system with each pass of his tongue, each suckle of his lips.
“Mas, please,” she cried. “I'm almost there.”
He'd been eating her pussy for all of five-point-six seconds, and already the familiar tightening of her muscles just before she climaxed was now within her reach. Together less than six months and he knew her body well enough to make her drip with desire in moments.
It could be that practice made perfect. In fact, that's what she'd always believed; they'd sexed so much and so hard, he knew how to make her body sing with pleasure. But now, after all they'd been through, she understood that the pleasure he gave her had little to do with his remarkable sexual abilities, and more to do with his heart.
Masaki gave her everything when they made love. From the very first, he'd poured his soul into the only avenue she'd allotted him to express what he felt, what was in his heart.
The two fingers he inserted in her opening caused her walls to tighten again and become slicker, begging for more of the tantalizing friction they delivered. A few more strokes, and Oshun was bearing down on those fingers, riding the lightning bolt of electric need as she squirted the first wave of her release over his face. She tried to shield him from the next spurt she felt coming, but he grabbed her hand, cupped his tongue, and drank her desire like a thirsty man in a desert.
She collapsed in bliss, completely ruined by this man’s ability to bend her body to his will. She felt him move from beneath her, until he was free from her legs and still-dripping cunt.
“Ass in the air, baby,” he commanded. Oshun complied as much as her loopy brain would allow her. She assumed she'd followed his command satisfactorily when she felt him slide between her swollen nether lips and push until his sheathed cock was stretching her walls.
“That's right, take it,” he hissed. “I want to be balls deep in my pussy when I blow this nut.”
She was still sensitive from her first orgasm, but could already feel the next one clawing at her. His deep strokes were pouring more gasoline onto the simmering embers of her last climax. He changed the angle of his next stroke, his cap rubbing just the right spot, and she tipped over into oblivion as she came apart for him again.
“That's it, come on my cock. I want it all.”
His request was almost comical. She couldn't have held back if she wanted, her body had ceased listening to her the moment he'd touched her. Whatever he wanted was his, and for the first time since this crazy ordeal began, she was completely fine with that.
As the last wave of her orgasm crested then ebbed, she felt his frantic need as he drove into her again. His hands planted on her shoulders to keep steady as his powerful, but uncoordinated strokes expertly battered her walls, bringing her to another debilitating climax. When her muscles seized in pleasure, he gave up the last vestiges of his control and spilled over into his bliss with a load roar.
He collapsed against her back, leaving delicate kisses where his fingers had held her in a bruising grip on her shoulders, and held her until his breathing slowed.
“If for no other reason than I could never willingly give this up, know I'll return,” he whispered to her. “I love you, Oshun. No one is ever taking that, or you, away from me.”
1 4
M asaki drove his car on the westbound Belt Parkway until he came to the Rockaway Boulevard exit. The sun had just set on Canarsie, but with the bright streetlights New York was notorious for, he was more than visible to the knowing eyes that watched him drive down the street.
He spotted an unmarked police car following him, and knew it was show time. Before he crossed the next traffic light, he saw siren lights come to life in his rear-view mirror. A second later, Masaki heard the officer directing him over a loudspeaker to pull over, exit the car slowly, get on his knees, and clasp his hands behind his head.
