Gennady
I tasted her before on my fingers, but this is different.
This is worship.
I settle between her thighs, pushing them wider to make room for my shoulders, and take a moment just to look at her. She's pink and swollen from earlier, glistening with arousal, and the sight makes my cock twitch despite having just come down her throat.
"Gennady—" Her voice is uncertain, shy. "You don't have to—"
"I know I don't have to." I press a kiss to her inner thigh, then the other, working my way slowly toward where she needs me most. "I want to. I've been thinking about tasting you properly since the moment I put my mouth on your lip in that car."
"That was different—"
"Was it?" I look up at her, holding her gaze. "I wanted you then. I want you now. The location is the only thing that's changed."
Before she can respond, I lower my head and lick a long, slow stripe up her center.
She gasps, her hips jerking off the bed.
"Stay still," I command, pressing a hand to her stomach to hold her down. "Let me enjoy this."
I lick her again, exploring every fold, every sensitive spot. She tastes like sex and salt and something uniquely her, and I'm already addicted. When I find her clit and circle it with my tongue, she cries out.
"Oh god—Gennady—"
I alternate between long, slow licks and focused attention on her clit, learning what makes her moan, what makes her thighs tremble. She's responsive in a way that drives me insane, every touch draws a reaction, every change in pressure makes her gasp or whimper.
I could do this for hours. Could spend the entire night between her legs, making her come over and over until she's boneless and begging.
And I will. Eventually.
But right now, I want to watch her fall apart.
I slide two fingers inside her, feeling how tight she still is despite being thoroughly fucked earlier. She clenches around me immediately, and I have to adjust my position to relieve the pressure on my hardening cock.
"You're so responsive," I tell her, pumping my fingers slowly. "So perfect. Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
"Gennady, please—"
"Please what?"
"I need—I'm so close—"
"I know." I curl my fingers inside her, finding that spot that makes her back arch off the bed.
I place my tongue over her clit again and increase the pressure, the speed, combining the thrust of my fingers with focused attention from my mouth.
She's right on the edge, I can feel it in the way her muscles tense, the way her breathing turns choppy and desperate.
She comes with a scream that's torn from her as her walls clamp down on my fingers so hard it borders on painful. I work her through it, drawing out every last pulse of pleasure until she's pushing at my head, oversensitive and trembling.
Only then do I pull back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I crawl up her body.
She's gorgeous like this, flushed and dazed, hair a mess on my pillow, lips parted as she struggles to catch her breath. Her eyes are unfocused, lost in the aftermath, and the satisfaction I feel at reducing her to this is primal.
"You taste incredible," I tell her, kissing her so she can taste herself on my tongue. "I'm going to do that every fucking day for the rest of our lives."
She makes a small whimpering sound and I feel her twitching beneath me.
