His face lights up. “How lucky should they be to get to see something as beautiful as you.” His hand hovers over my thigh, and he makes his request again, more intently. “I’ll ask again, can I touch you?”
The betrayer between my thighs screams yes, even as my brain says to wait, but sometimes your crotch yells louder than your mind.
“Yes.”
He lifts me from my seat next to him, nudging open my knee so that I’m able to straddle him once more. The man pulls the oversized green dress off my shoulders, its deep vee allowing it to fall and pool at my waist quickly. His eyes focus in on my large breasts, the nipples already hardening in anticipation.
“If anyone is watching us,” he whispers, “let them enjoy the view, because I will rip the head from their body for witnessing this goddess without her permission.” His brow sinks down as he sucks my nipple into his mouth while his hand palms its twin.
“There’s no way we're strangers,” I moan, arching into his eager mouth. He looks up at me with hooded lids.
“I lied, you taste better than sq’aurks. I think I have a new favorite flavor.”
His hand slides from my breast toward my throbbing sex. I hold my breath as he grabs the dress and pulls it apart at its center seam, ripping it cleanly from my body. He takes his large fingers and rubs them against my slit. They slide through wetness easily, and he tests my entrance as if unsure of its location. His eyebrows knit, and his eyes seem far off as he feels me, trailing his fingers all around my most sensitive flesh.
“First time?” I joke, even as my breathing gets ragged and I roll my hips against his hand.
“I doubt it,” he shrugs, “but maybe the first time with your kind? Tell me if I do anything that doesn’t feel good.” His fingers find my clit.
“Shit!” I say and he pulls his hand back rapidly.
“F’tee, did I hurt you?” His face is crestfallen.
“No, good, very good,” I say as I pull his hand back where my body is begging to be touched.
“We likevery good.”
He trails his fingers back up to the sensitive nub at the apex of my thighs. He takes two of his fingers and strokes on either side of my clit. The pressure he applies tugs at the nerves, and I pant as he works my pussy. I throw my head back and rest my chin on his chest.
“That feels so good,” I sigh.
I protest as he pulls his hand from me, but I stop my mewling as he puts his other hand on my exposed neck and feeds the fingers that were between my legs slowly into my mouth. Torturously, he pushes past my lips, and I taste my tangy sap.
“Do you taste how wet you are for me?” he growls, tightening his grip on my throat.
“Fuck,” I groan as he takes his fingers from my mouth, grasps my cheeks between his hands, and pushes his full lips into mine. A kiss so hungry that I swear my lips are bruised. He pulls back, hoists me up by the ass, and spins us around. He lays me on the bed and places my knees over his shoulders.
I feel his breath on my pussy as he says, “I’m going to taste that pretty little cunt of yours.”
He pushes his mouth against me, his tongue lapping long, hard strokes from the bottom to the top. It pushes my clit in the most delicious way. I weave my fingers through his white hair, wrapping them in the strands as if I need something to ground myself. His tongue works my clit again, and I clench my ass and lift my hips. The pleasure builds as my body tightens—I feel myself approaching a point of no return.
He lifts his eyes to me, everything below his nose obscured by my sex. His mouth makes the most obscene noises as he eats me like a peach. He tilts his head up, and my juices run down his chin, glistening in the streams of artificial sunlight.
“I like this pearl of yours very much.” He opens his mouth as he begins to speak again, but I use my hand to shove him back toward the promised land.
“Now is not the time to talk,” I say as he works a finger deep into my channel.
My muscles clasp around him desperately, begging for more. When he adds the second finger and curls them up to a spot I didn’t know existed, I unravel. His tongue applies firm pressure as my pussy spasms. I drift toward heaven as he draws out every wave of pleasure that crashes over me.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” I scream, as I become too sensitive to touch. I push his head away and snap my legs shut, unable to handle anymore.
“I don’t think that’s my name,” he says, chuffed, “but I suppose you can call me whatever you like as long as you let me keep tasting that delicious cunt of yours.”
His face is still wet with me when he pulls up to kiss my forehead. He scoops me up to lie beside him on the bed. I can barely catch my breath as he pulls me to his side, pulling the sheet up over us.
“What about you?” I ask him.
“You say that as if tasting your nectar wasn’t enough for me?”
