Her tits are as tiny and perfect as the glimpses in the department store promised they would be. I toss the bra aside and spear the knife into the sidetable again to concentrate on them, brushing one nipple with the ball of my thumb then changing sides, making them contract further than the chill air alone could manage.
“So sweet.” I bend and take one in my mouth, palming the other. It’s so flat it’s ridiculous, like feeling up a small boy. The slight curve underneath is almost lost at this angle, lying on her back they’re even flatter than when she’s standing.
Itrail my tongue from her nipple down to that curve, then swivel my face to the side to draw more into my mouth, trying to get enough purchase to bite. I can’t, my teeth graze along the skin rather than finding a grip. I change position and attack from another angle, this time earning enough of a mouthful that I can close my mouth and experience the sweet give of flesh, biting deeper until I hear the cry catch in the back of her throat. I release it, smiling against her skin as I kiss the abrasion all better.
“Do you like that?” I ask, my words muffled against her midriff where I try to gain purchase with my teeth, again failing against her concave stomach. Far too concave, even for such a small girl. Scrawny instead of thin.
She needs just the tiniest bit of fattening up and my grin grows wider at the thought of force feeding her just so there’s enough padding to bite her from head to toe.
My molars ache with the desire to chew on something substantial. Craving the sensation so badly I pull one of her hands down from over her head, sucking her forefinger into my mouth and clamping my teeth over it, eyes closing as the resistance sends a pulse of pure pleasure to my crotch from my jaw.
“Ah.” The sound escaping her compressed lips is tiny, but I open my eyes, drinking in her pain.
It’s exquisite.
I release her finger and move lower, snapping my teeth over a chunk of her thigh, applying enough pressure that when I pull my head back, an imprint of my teeth remains behind, like I bit into a receptive mould.
Retracing my path, I kiss each of the marks I’ve left on her, rubbing them with my thumb when they’re not blushing enough for my liking. At her tits, I stop again, sucking in a nipple and holding the very tip between my front teeth, holding it, holdingit, hearing the whimper while she wonders whether I’ll increase the pressure, bite down, bite it off.
With my right hand, I reach down between her legs, stroking her wet slit, easing my finger inside, feeling the slippery rush as her body reacts so positively to my actions that it might as well spread out a warm wet welcome mat to usher me inside.
My head draws back, keeping the same pressure, until the bud pops free. Then I fall on her neck, nibbling, biting, sucking, grazing her tender, tender skin. Marking her. Biting so hard that the metallic warmth of her blood is just the tiniest sliver away.
“Should I… Do you want…?”
Her words crumble as I draw back to examine her face, unsure what she could find pressing enough to ask me about right now.
“My last boyfriend liked me to…” her fingers spasm as she trails off.
“Liked you to…?”
“To touch him.”
“If you want to grab my cock, you can just say so.”
She bites her bottom lip, wincing as she remembers too late that I got there first. “Only if you…”
I thought she’d be crying by now and instead of being afraid of what I might do next, she’s offering to help. To wank me off while I eat her in a far more literal sense than she should be used to.
The confusing response makes me curious enough that I roll off to the side, landing on my back. “Go ahead. You can touch anything on me you want to.”
George sits up, biting on the side of her thumbnail as she looks at me. To help her make a choice, I unbutton my shirt, then my trousers, then lie back with my hands behind my head.
Her hand darts over to rest against my abdomen, so cold thatI belatedly consider buying the girl a jacket and gloves.
“Your boyfriend liked you to put your icy hands on his stomach?” I tease, watching as she wrinkles her nose and gives the tiniest shake of her head.
Her hand heads south but so slowly it’s going to miss the last train if it doesn’t get a move on. The fingers dance over my naval, light enough to make me quiver, then duck under the waistband of my boxers.
“I feel like there should be a rule. If you’re going to touch sensitive objects, you should warm your hands the same way a doctor would warm a stethoscope.”
“I thought you liked pain?”
She sneaks a glance at me, mischievous, possibly guessing my answer is ‘yeah, other people’s.’
Her head dips low, her eyes redirecting to what her hands are up to rather than looking at me. I brush some hair away from the side of her face to give me a clearer view. Now her lower lip is swollen nearly twice its size, her beauty is even more obvious. I feel a pang of hatred for the ‘last boyfriend’ she referenced. Right now, I’d prefer to be the one and only. The first. The last. The only one in between.
Her hand clasps around my cock, tentative fingers growing more confident as they slide up and down the full length.
