When she still doesn’t move of her own accord, I bring my hand up and wrap it around her jaw and chin.
“Earlier, you asked me what I like,” I say. “Well, that's what I like.”
“You don't have to.” She won't look me in the eye.
“Look at me, Jenna,” I say, applying a bit more pressure with my fingertips. She finally locks eyes with me. “If you remember one thing about me, make it this. My job is all about flavours, textures and taste, but I have never, ever wanted to eat something as much as I want to eat you right now. Please let me taste you.”
With her deep exhale, it's like all the fight leaves her body and she smiles at me in that way she did when she was watching me in the shower; a mischievous look drenched in longing and curiosity and just the right amount of apprehension. I give her bum another squeeze and finally, she starts travelling up my body. I tuck my arms and shoulders under her when she's close enough and then my hands are back on her butt, pulling her down and on top of me, which she does only to then lift up again.
“Sit,” I say.
“I am,” she replies.
“No, you're hovering.” I pull down again.
“I'll suffocate you.”
“It'll be a grand way to go,” I say, with another pull.
“Marty, seriously,” she says with more nervous giggles.
“I amveryserious right now. I’m so fucking hungry for this. Feed me. Give me what I want.” I yank her so hard she sinks down.
And I get to work.
I start slow, exploring, mapping her out, inside and out. I kiss, I lick, I suck, and I use my tongue, making it firm, making it soft. When she moans, I stay where I am, circling her clit until she starts to rock against me, then I stop and move down to push my tongue inside her and curl it as much as I can. Her taste is intoxicating – salty like the ocean, musky like the air on a hot summer’s day – and I eat it all up. I want to go further, lower, deeper – eat all of her up - but I daren’t when she just showed me how even this is not something she is used to. When I go back to licking up and down either side of her clit, she makes the sweetest strangled noise and I look up. Her eyes are closed, one of her hands is playing with her right nipple and she’s biting that full bottom lip.
“Keep doing that,” she mumbles. “It feels amazing.”
I do as I’m told, closing my eyes again and digging my fingers into her backside harder, pinning her exactly where she is. My mouth is impossibly wet now, the air hot and full, but I don’t want to move. Her hands come down to find my hair and they grip my scalp as she grinds down into me.
“I'm going to come,” she says, breathless, pupils blown dark and wide.
She thrusts her hips hard against me and if my hands weren't happy on her backside I would lift them up and applaud her on, but there's no way I'm going to stop squeezing all her solid warm flesh while she comes on my mouth, which happens only seconds later as she rides out her orgasm and I get to taste more of her.
“Fuck,” she gasps and what is probably my favourite word in the world has never sounded better. “Fuck.”
When she pulls up to float above me, I let her. She looks down at me over the tanned mounds of her breasts and stomach, and she smiles. Then she reaches down and wipes my mouth, nose and chin with her hand.
“Still alive?” she asks.
“Absolutely. Not even close to being suffocated, sadly,” I say and then I almost come myself when I see her put that hand of hers to her mouth and she licks herself off her fingers.
“I taste good on you,” she says pushing back to lie flat on top of me. A beat later she's kissing my mouth and face, hunting for more traces of herself. I ready myself to pin her body against mine, roll her over and God willing, enter her again, but then she pushes off me and the absence of her smooth sun-kissed skin feels all kinds of wrong.
“Where are you going?” I say, the panic audible.
“My turn to be responsible,” she says, walking to the bathroom, and I get to watch her butt sway as she does, delighting at the sight of red marks where my finger dug into her skin. While she's gone, my hand grips my length and strokes it, but I stop when I see her coming back into the room. She's completely naked and all curves and all woman and all things I want to touch and hold and feel. But the sexiest thing about Jenna right now is that she's not covering herself up or showing any nerves. She's walking with her head high, her shoulders back, and a condom in her hand that she's carefully opening.
Kneeling on the bed beside me, Jenna has the condom out but doesn't put it on. Instead, she looks at my cock, almost inspecting it. She is anything but neutral about it because her tongue is licking her lips and her hands are both gentle and deliberate as she gives me a few rubs, moving my foreskin up and down. Then she bends down and swirls her tongue around the head, once, twice, then comes off leaving a kiss on the very tip. I suck in a breath and find my thoughts banging into each other because I want her to do that again, but I also want to fuck her and at the same time I need to taste her again because it's already been too long.
“Marty?” she says, talking to my penis.
“Yeah,” I just about manage to reply.
“I don't want you to guarantee me anything about tonight, but I do want you to promise me one thing,” she says, and she licks the small bead of pre-cum that we both watch emerge at the top of my cock.
“What?” I ask on a sigh. Whatever it is, I'm pretty sure I'll do it.
