“Do you want to stay under the covers?” he asked, kissing my thighs.
“No, just do it. I mean, please. If you want to.”
He chuckled and spread my lower lips. “My pleasure.”
But it was mine.
He dragged his long tongue up and down my slit, then swirled around my clit.
“Fuck.” I rocked my hips. This was so much more dynamic than any fancy wand attachment.
He moaned, the reverberations amplifying my arousal. He licked and lapped, sucked and slid. But he wasn’t all over the place. I presumed he only switched things up to keep his jaw from seizing. A fine sheen of sweat stuck to his skin. God, he worked for this. He was focused. He eased his fingers in, tapping out a beat on the raised ridge of my center. His firm bulge grazed my leg. I could only imagine what it’d be like to have him pump inside me. With me.
I gripped his shoulder, and my whole body clenched, seized with pleasure.
Gasping, I rocked my hips, part of me wanting to shove myself against him for the overdrive of orgasm, the other longing to recoil and recover. Everything tingled. Until eventually, seconds or eons later, the bulk of itfinished coursing through me. My body sizzled. When he came up for air, I half expected steam to slip through his lips.
“How was that?” He sucked my thigh, wiping his cheeks.
I managed a squeak.
He chuckled and propped himself up. “That good, huh?”
I couldn’t think. My brain buzzed with orgasm. Sal. Good. Sexy. He kissed my legs and stomach, then used a water bottle and a workout towel to clean me up.
“You want to cuddle? Sleep?” he offered.
“I want to suck your shaft,” I said, my voice thick.
He laughed, but I wasn’t joking. I pushed him onto his back with a grunt, relishing his gasp. His pupils swelled, swallowed by black.
I would make him orgasm like this. I just had to figure out the right combination.
I worked his dick free. This one, attached to a man I loved, wasn’t a scary, stupid, veiny thing. It was smooth. Warm. Hard. For me.
“Z,” he rasped, holding my hair back.
For such a sweet guy, he tasted salty. I sucked his tip, tentatively licking the curved lip. He moaned.
Would deep-throating be too much for my gag reflex? Maybe we could work up to it. I slid down slowly, careful to shield him from my teeth. My throat tightened around his length.
He shuddered and slammed a fist in the mattress.
I sat up, coughing. “You need to tug my ear?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Sorry, I’m just trying not to thrust.”
“God, you are sweet. Let’s see if I can get you cursing.” I tugged his shaft.
“Zero, wh–ahhhh, yes.” He dropped his head back and enjoyed the attention.
Whatever part of his length I couldn't comfortably suck, I lubed up and twisted with my hands.
He tugged my hair a touch rougher than he probably realized. “I’m going to come.”
Not that I was against swallowing, but it was fun to sit up and watch him, the way his stomach tightened, the way the milky heat flowed out of him in bursts, smearing over my hands.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, throwing an arm over his face. “That was fucking awesome.”
