She moans and moves her hips from my touch.
Soft vibrations pulsate from her clit, and it swells. I use it as a sign to do what I wanted to do the entire time, and that is to fuck her with my tongue.
I enter her with it, and she reacts as expected. A squeak and a moan, before she rolls her hips even more.
I know what I do when I fuck her with my tongue again and again and again. My tongue pushes slightly down, so I tease that sweet spot of hers, right there?—
“Oh gods, Kat!” she shouts as her moans get louder, and I slap her ass.
It wiggles into my face, and damn, am I turned on! I want to rub myself. I want to rub my clit over her leg, I want her to lick me, I want to fuck her with my fingers, and get off only by watching her come.
And just when she begins to twitch slightly between the moans, I push my face even closer into her. My nose digs into her ass, and I can’t wait to lick her there. But that’s something we’ll do after having a conversation about it.
I slap her again. Once. Twice. Thrice.
I have to moan myself now, and although my tongue hurts and air is scarce, I won’t stop. I’d rather pass out before she didn’t come once. I know she is close, so I keep doing what I do until the final wave comes.
“Ugmmmm,” she moans out in the sheets as her core clenches and a pulsating wave spreads from her over to me.
I lean slightly back to get some air and relax my tongue, not giving a fuck that I look like a panting dog. As I said before, I’d woof and meow for her if I have to.
“That was fucking amazing,” she mumbles into the sheets.
I snigger. “That was nothing, Princess,” I say, and bite her inner thigh.
She squeaks in pain, as she should.
“Next time, I’ll take a knife instead of biting,” I say.
She only giggles. I know she has a kink for knife play.
I get up and pull her up with an arm around her shoulders so she doesn’t have to push herself up with her chest.
I slide down her dress and ruffle her messy hair straight.
“I can do that by myself,” she says.
“You’ll let me do it anyway,” I say and pick up her thong. Instead of giving it to her, I slip it in my pocket.
She looks reproachfully at me and holds out her hand.
“Nope,” I say. “That’s my treasure.”
“You know,” she says, “Sometimes I liked you better when you were poor, innocent Ella.”
I have to laugh.
“Oh, I can be here,” I say. “Once ot twice a year when you have been a really, really good girl. This here is way too much fun,” I add, and briefly caress her cheek with the back of my finger.
I can see she is madly annoyed and in total awe at the same time, in other words: Things are exactly as they’re supposed to be.
“Come closer,” I say, and pull her into me. “Lick your juices off my lips,” I order her.
It’s one moment where she hesitates, but then licks over my lips.
“Mhhhm,” I hum out. “Like I said, way too much fun.” And with that, I grasp her arm to get back to the party.
EPILOGUE
