“Youare my kink,” I tell her back, and she twists around on the bed, impatient. “Let me get to know this part of you a bit better,” I tell her, reaching for her chest, and she nods up at me.
My hands grab a boob each, and they’re so fucking huge they spill out around my grasp. Been dreaming about these things as long as I’ve known her, but even more so since she sent me that picture for my birthday. This view I have right now, my fingers pressed into her flesh, the way there’s more breast than hand? Jesus Christ, this picture’s gonna be the screensaver in my mind from here on out. Any time nothing else is going on in my mind for a few seconds, this’ll be what I see on default.
My dick’s back to full-mast, and I try to talk him down. Hope he doesn’t start leaking yet, really wanna have a chance to enjoy this night.
My fingers pinch and tweak at her nipples, teasing her until she arches her back, desperate for relief. Bring my head down, press my mouth to her chest and swirl my tongue around each bud, one at a time, back and forth, sucking, biting, licking until she’s mewling, and my hips are seeking friction with anything they can find (currently, her mattress—fucking embarrassing).
I move farther down her body, keep my fingers playing with her nipples as I go, tongue leading the search and discovery of the planes of her stomach, the little belly she’s so concerned about but it just makes her look soft and feminine, fucking delicious. I kiss my way down it, stopping every time I get the urge to just pay a certain bit of her extra attention, and before I’m ready to be done with the rest of her, I’m back to the junction of her thighs. Not complaining.
Fingers slip underneath the band of her underwear, peel ’em off her and let ’em fall off one of her feet, all the way to the ground. I lay down between her thighs, elbows braced, palms flat against the insides of her thighs. She’s already open for me, so perfect, all on display like that, and I run my hands up and down the soft skin of her inner thighs.
She’s moaning, head thrown back, nearly thrashing on the bed, and I haven’t even touched her pussy yet. God, this is going to be fun.
Can’t tell you—won’t tell you—how many times I’ve envisioned this moment. Getting to split her open with my tongue, taste her for the first time, make her shake and tremble around me until she’s screaming, but my mind didn’t do it justice.
Her smell, the way she’s going to taste, I can already tell it’s like a designer drug engineered just for me. I don’t make myself wait any longer. My tongue reaches out, straight up the middle of her, slipping between her folds and taking my first sample of her.
“Fuck! Asher!” So glad I called it right about this girl. She is a screamer.
My eyes roll back and something heavier than a groan rumbles through my lips, into hers. I hope she likes being eaten out, because I’m not going to have my fill of her anytime soon.
My lips and tongue move together, moving up her pussy until I find her clit, flick it gently a couple times, and all those noises she’s making are just the soundtrack to the best night of my life, bringing this from a ten to an eleven, easy. If we could record them, get it up on Spotify, fuck she’d be a top-streamed artist, for sure.
Close my lips around her little bud, add some pressure, feel her legs shake instantly when I do, and I back off. Whatever guy couldn’t get her off before is a fucking quitter, because this chick doesn’t take much to get her going. Almost hope I can build her tolerance a bit, so I can do more to her over time, get this to last longer for me.
In the pool, on the couch, now here in bed, I don’t think she’s lasted more than a couple minutes for me yet. Though, am I really one to talk? I just spurted in a few strokes not ten minutes ago, and it’s going to take everything in me not to do it again if, and when, it’s my turn.
Bring my tongue back to her entrance, flatten it out, swipe at her core, probe inside of her once, twice. She’s moaning, groaning, whispering so many things I wish I could hear, and it spurs me on. I lick at her entrance, up to her clit, and then I take my time with her there until she’s shaking, her back bowing, and then more of her screams come, right before she does.Goddamn, being in a house—not an apartment with roommates—has its perks.
Her pussy floods my mouth, and I keep going, licking every drop of what she gives me until she’s pushing at my head, trying to get me off of her, but it’s too soon for me. I don’t want to stop yet. She’s my new favorite flavor, a delicacy I’ve waited years to try, now that I’m finally of age, able to partake, I’m not done with her just yet. I haven’t had my fill.
I lap at her a few more times, until her legs are closing around my head, her body doing whatever it takes to protect its most sensitive parts from more stimulation right now, and I have to sigh and resign myself to coming back down here as soon as she’s ready for another round.
I sit back up, getting on my knees to tower over her, take her in after that.
Her hair is a crown of tangles, must be two feet of it all around her on the bedspread, like spilled honey. Just like how she tastes. Her cheeks are redder than I’ve ever seen them, her face so fucking satisfied that pride lights me up from within. Her lids are lowered, and she’s blinking up at me in something like awe, maybe a bit of hero worship that I don’t deserve.
I plop down next to her, laying on my side, head propped up on a hand, elbow bent. She’s just shaking her head at me, dazed.
“What the fuck, Asher,” she finally says. “If you’d opened with that argument, our negotiations would’ve been over two months ago.”
We both laugh, her face pressing into my chest, body shaking in my second favorite way from her.
“Never been so wet in my life,” she tells me, kissing me deep, not afraid to taste herself on my lips, my tongue, and I groan at the things she keeps saying to me. She just gets hotter, this woman. She pushes forward more, using her palm on my chest to put me flat on my back, and I don’t hate the way that feels, not even a little.
“It’s my turn to taste you, I think,” she whispers against my skin, and I give her another groan in response. Might be my only language after this.
My hands bury themselves in her hair, wrapping it in my fists, holding her close to me, but not controlling her movements. Letting her go anywhere and everywhere she wants on me, I just wanna feel it in as many ways as possible when she does.
She teases me with that tongue, dragging it over my chest, my pecs, the abs that I do have, and down into the dips in my hips, right above my pants.
“These fucking things,” she says against them, something like reverence and annoyance in the words. She tries to bite them, teeth nipping at the hip bones there, and I shiver at the feel, then laugh at the look on her face.
“You mad about ’em?” I ask her.
“Yes, I’m fucking mad,” she tells me angrily. “You’re just, stupidly hot and it’s not fair.”
“Look who’s talking,” I say to her, my eyes pointedly moving down to her breasts, hanging heavily with the way she’s hovering above me. “Got the world’s greatest tits and doesn’t even realize how much you can get away with ’cause of it.”
