I need to feel you coming on my tongue.
The last one drives her almost to the edge, her moans reaching a higher pitch as I work her closer and closer to orgasm.
I know I shouldn't do this, shouldn't even risk anything more firm than this touch, as she's almost certainly going to wake up if I do. But fuck, I need her to come more than I've ever needed anything.
I wrap my lips around her clit, sucking the swollen, slippery bundle of nerves into my mouth, using a firm hold on it while I rapidly use my tongue to flick up and down, pleading for her to at least orgasm before she wakes up and murders me.
With a sharp, quiet cry, she finally does, falling apart so perfectly, the flexing of her cunt so powerful I can feel her whole body shaking, writhing on my face while I let her, letting her soak me with her perfection, rubbing herself freely against my mouth and chin until she's wholly spent.
Utterly pleased both in reality and in her mind, the suspicion abates, the orgasm clouding her judgment. As gently as I can, I lift her underwear and shorts back into place, sorrowfully saying goodbye to my favorite place in the world. With a final chaste kiss to her pubic bone, one that she tries to chase with her hips again, I tuck her back into the blankets.
I steal one last look at her: the strands of hair strewn across her face and pillow, the pinkness in her cheeks, and the slowing of her breaths. A cold feeling fills my chest, a hollowness, almost, as I take in her beauty. A completely unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation, like as I walk out of here, I'll leave something behind. Some part of me that I'll never get back.
But I can't stay. I've already risked too much of her ire, violating her body this way. I know full well that I've just done a horrendous, unforgivable thing. Something I can't take back, and honestly wouldn't even if that were possible.
I did this to feel better, and do I?
Yes, and also no.
I feel sated, carrying her flavor with me as I silently escape her room, and yet I feel a hunger like I've never known. That small taste of Isla as she could be, free and vulnerable, is all I'll be able to think about from now on.
But I'm not worthy of that version of her, not worthy of her trust and openness. I just have to take solace in having her body crave mine until she can return to her life and hopefully find someone who might be worthy of her.
The thought makes me physically nauseous and murderous, but I can't keep her, even if I want to. Which I don't. I just want to fuck her. Take out all this aggression on her cunt and make damn sure that when she does find someone, she'll live the rest of her life imagining me in the quiet of the night when her future partner fails to give her the devastating, borderline violent orgasms I can.
That knowledge won't be nearly enough for me, but it'll have to be.
I don't deserve any part of her, even the ones she's given me.
I've already taken too many of her choices away.
I won't take her whole future, too.
Six Minutes
Isla
A wet dream.
I had a wet dream like a goddamn teenage boy.
I didn't even know women could have them.
And yet, the proof was undeniable.
So here I am, searching the internet to see if it's possible or if I'm just losing my mind.
Up to 37% of women have reported having them.
Huh.
Well, I guess that's that then.
Maybe it has something to do with the frequency with which I've been masturbating lately.
I can lie to myself and say it's not to torture Eamon... but of course it is.
He wants me so bad it's turning him into a caged beast. Every time I so much as brush my teeth now, the second he overhears any vibration at all, he starts slamming doors and throwing dishes around. It's fucking hilarious. Andoh my god,itmakes my orgasms even more intense knowing how badly they torture him.
