“I really want to fuck you,” he says.
“I really want that too.”
“You sure?” He hovers over me, his thumb brushing my cheek.
I don’t have to think. The answer is easy. “Yeah. I want you.”
“Then let me make you feel good.”
He kisses me again, that slow and drugging pace. Like he’s reallytastingme. Like we have all the time in the world, and he fully intends to use it.
His tongue moves slowly over my skin. There’s no hurry or rush to get me off like I’m a quest to be conquered before he can come. The drag of his lips over my body makes me ache. As hemoves lower, I spread my legs for him without hesitation. His hands settle on my thighs, thumbs stroking teasing circles.
Catfish touches places I never knew were hot-wired to turn me on. The back of my knee. The crease of my hip.
When he finally moves to my clit, sucking it hard and moving his head like he would if he was sucking dick, I feel fully in my body.
Like nothing else matters.
I fist my hands into his hair, holding him tight against me, as I ride his face.
There’s something so freeing about letting my hips go wild as I grind against him.
His hands slide beneath my ass, his fingers digging into my skin, like he can’t get close enough.
He only shifts for a moment, to suck in air on a gasp.
When he returns to sucking on me, he adds two fingers, the angle of them curling inside me.
I stop worrying about what my body looks like or what the person between my thighs thinks of it. I allow myself to just be in this moment with this man who seems intent on worshipping me how I am right now.
I cry out as Catfish manages to grip my hips and flip us. It takes a second to realize what he wants. Me, riding his face.
“Suffocate me, Wren,” he says, and there’s sheer desperation in his eyes. I glance over my shoulder and see his cock. Heavy, thick, and dripping pre-cum onto his belly in a long silvery strand.
Then, he grips my thighs and pulls me down onto his face.
I’ve humped things to get off before. Pillows. My fist wrapped in bedding. Strap-ons. But the sensation of a face pressed so intimately against me like this is utterly overwhelming, I have to reach for the post of the bed to stay upright.
When I try to lift my weight off him, he simply tightens his grip, pulling me tighter, forcing me to grind.
And Catfish, God, he bites and sucks and licks and hums. His chest is rising and falling like a freight train by my feet.
And everything starts to build, fast and hot.
Briefly, he releases one thigh to grip the bedding.
Suffocate me, Wren.
Oh God, is that what I’m truly doing?
I come hard, body jerking. “River!”
But he doesn’t stop, holding me tight to him with both hands again, forcing me through my orgasm.
When he releases my thighs, I try to move, but they’re trembling so badly, I flop onto the bed next to him just as Catfish sucks in a deep breath of air.
Mini tremors rush through me. Like another orgasm is close, but just out of reach.
