“I mean it, Jenna,” he says, his stern voice moving away from me.
He's a quick learner. The anticipation of knowing he is in there washing his body, touching skin I want to touch, is almost too much to bear. The heat between my legs starts to throb and ache. My nipples push against the fabric of my bra and I know without looking they'd be visible through the extra layer that is my cotton dress too. My breathing is no slower or deeper and my fingers literally shake with the urge to touch myself, but instead I just fist the bedsheets. I don't need to put my fingers anywhere near my pussy to know I am already very, very wet.
When I hear the shower turn off, a tap starts to run and then there's a gentle electric hum, and I realise he’s using my toothbrush. Somehow that little intimate detail turns me on even more. I throw my arm over my eyes and laugh at howundone I am. I’m drowning in the kind of desire I dreamed of for years and I am delirious with joy that I am experiencing it again.
The stretch of time between hearing the toothbrush switch off and the moment when the bedroom door opens is the longest minute of my life. And the only thought I have during it is, how will I go days, weeks, or months without his touch when I can’t even survive seconds without feeling like I’m losing my mind? But I quickly bury that conundrum as soon as I see him, standing again exactly where he was when he told me to wait and not touch myself. He is wearing nothing but a towel, and my eyes shoot straight to his waist to see if he is hard for me, but his hand is in front of what I want to see.
“Waiting isn’t easy, is it, cupcake?” he smirks.
“Marty.” I start to pull my dress up my legs, forcing his eyes in that direction. “I will happily wait a very long time for you.”
“Happily?” He arches an eyebrow. “You don’t look happy. You look... needy.”
“I am. And we’re running out of time, aren’t we?” I ask, the dress now halfway up my thighs.
“In some ways, yes.” He steps closer to me, his shins hitting the bedframe, but he doesn’t flinch. “But in other ways, we’re just getting started.”
The dress is above my waist now and I let my legs fall open.
“Jenna.” He exhales. “You’re not wearing any underwear. Have you been like this the whole time?”
I nod. “Now do you want to make me wait?”
He doesn’t reply, at least not with his voice. Instead, he falls to the ground and dives his head between my legs. With one strong, firm lick he glides his tongue up, parting me. With another, he finds my clit and flicks the tip of his tongue there back and forth, back and forth.
My hands go to his hair, and I hold him there for a while, rocking up into his licks and kisses, but when he starts to suck, I use my grip to move him away.
“No, Marty,” I say. “Not yet. I want to come with you inside me.”
“You can, you will,” he says, placing gentle kisses and bites on my inner thighs and trying to nudge my hands away so he can go back for more.
“And I promised you one of my toys,” I remind him.
He lifts up to look at me. “I don’t want that. I mean, I do but not now. I will cash that win in for sure, but all I could think about in the shower was your pussy. This is all I want, right now. Like this,” he bends to lick my clit, “and then like this.” He pushes two fingers inside me and strokes my front wall. My belly convulses. “And then I want to feel it all with my dick, all of you.” His fingers go deeper, and they scissor from side to side.
“Yes, that’s what I want. But please fuck me,” I beg, riding his hand. “Please, I love you, please.”
His mouth goes back on me as his fingers keep caressing me inside and I give up begging for his dick because this is just as good. Fuck, no, this is possibly better because I am so much more aware of where his tongue is, what his digits are doing, and where they’re stroking me so deep, so very, very deep and...
“Oh, shit,” I say, and I clench my thighs around his head.
“What?” He jolts back and I relax my legs.
It’s just how it was the last few times this happened. Times when I was on my own, with a toy or toys, plunging one inside me, vibrating another around my clit for long, long minutes, taking my time and discovering myself. It’s exactly the same now as it was then; I really do feel like I’m going to wet myself.
“You okay?” Marty says, and his voice is clearer because his lips are off me although his fingers keep thrusting gently and deeply inside me. I squeeze my muscles to stroke them back.
“So good,” I reply, and I throw my head back and surrender, only the smallest part of me worrying he won’t like it. “Stay deep, just like that.”
He does as he’s told, his fingers completely hidden, penetrating and probing deep inside me. His mouth is back too and the slick warmth of his tongue finding a perfect rhythm circling around my clit is everything I need.
“Marty,” I gasp as my hands grip his head again and I rock myself into his mouth as the pressure builds and that feeling returns. I fight the urge to resist it and instead I even push a little, actively releasing all the delicious pressure that’s building and... “Fuck!” I squeeze my eyes shut as my orgasm hits.
It’s hearing it that tells me it happened. A light tinny tinkling sound as my cum hits Marty’s face, once, twice. I take this confirmation with me as I shudderthrough my orgasm, the pleasure making me twitch and shake. As the waves die down, I release my grip on his hair and cover my face with my hands, laughing and a little embarrassed, but mostly, mostly elated.
Only when my giggles subside do I dare a quick look at Marty and see him straightening up and wiping his face with his left hand, and then put all four of his fingers in his mouth, sucking. That’s when I realise his right hand is still inside me. And that makes me cover my face again, now because I feel blinded by how much I am feeling in this moment.
“That was fucking epic,” he says.
