His tongue smeared the length of my pussy before coasting into my slit.
I fought the urge to scream, because it wasn't his name on my tongue it was the words, ‘holy fuck’, and he wouldn’t want to hear that. But I had never ever felt anything like this.
His hands gently caressed my thighs, encouraging me to breathe when it appeared I'd forgotten how to do so.
I took a breath, and rocked against his mouth, feeling his nose bump against my clitoris.
My eyes rolled, and I started panting, as the feeling of his tongue making out with my pussy had a pleasure building in my stomach that I couldn't control. My hand moved from my breast, pushing his head harder against my body, his tongue deeper inside me.
But I couldn't take anymore.
I couldn't hold on.
His tongue was all the way inside my hole, licking the walls that enclosed it as I got closer and closer to orgasm.
He licked up and down along my puffy pussy lips—tingling and blissfully swollen. He licked up to my engorged clit, and he took it between his teeth, flicking at it with his masterful tongue.
My fingers dug into his short dark hair. My hips raised higher. I wanted him back inside me when I climaxed. He understood, placing a delicate kiss on my clit before he shoved his perfect tongue back inside me.
I came on the first thrust, squeezing around him and dragging him deeper. I came so hard, it rained from me.
My fluttering eyes caught sight of his perfect face, staring up at me from between my legs, when I screamed his name.
I arched my back again and clutched harder at his hair, wrapping it in my fist as another wave of pleasure crashed down on me.
I screamed, so fucking loudly. I couldn't hold back as he continued making out with my pussy as I orgasmed for the second fucking time.
My legs were shaking when he took the final swallow of my cum. Still shaking as he pressed a gentle kiss against my hole.
I dropped my head back, not focusing on the image of him, the daisy still in hand, because, fuck, the image of him and his lips sheened with my cum, would have made me come again, and I wouldn't handle another orgasm like that so quickly.
Instead, I focused on the small ginger creature sitting in the doorway, meowing a whining moan, as he wondered why my ass was allowedon the tabletop if his wasn't.
Evening had painted a pretty glow against the clouds. Pretty pinks, bright orange, and even a hypnotic lavender rolled outside the window across the sky. The kitchen was lit beautifully, too. A warm hue from one hundred motion-sensor fairy lights highlighted the peace and tranquility of the evening.
I was relaxed in my seat at the island, my nose to the spoon of ajiaco. The veggies all fought for the priority scent, but they melded together in one tasty harmony.
“Do you like it?” I asked Woodrow, who sat opposite me. The vase of flowers between us was full again, the pretty daisy I'd stolen had been returned to its family. That thought twisted something painful inside me.
Woodrow noticed, but he didn't question me. He focused on something else that would take my mind from what was bothering me. The food. It was important to me that he'd enjoy my cooking.
“It's really good. Like comfort food.” His spoon dove back into the bowl.
He'd eaten more at this table than I'd seen him eat all week.
I pushed a plate of homemade bread across the surface. It's smell wafted through the air and taunted my tastebuds, daring me to steal another slice.
“I can't eat that.”
“Can you not try? Small pieces?”
His eyes dropped to the bread, and he chewed at his lip, hungry for a taste of something new. He swallowed once, imagining how the dough would feel on his tongue.
“You only live once.”
My words caused him pain, but I didn’t understand why. “Not if you believe in reincarnation.” He winked, his pretty eyes flirting with me.
“I didn’t know where you stood on reincarnation, given your religious childhood.”
