He steps closer to get a better look, and his knees almost go out at the sight.
She looks exactly the same as he remembered, the same pussy he closes his eyes and sees when he needs to relieve himself, except now it’s almost bare with a perfectly groomed triangle of blonde hair on her pubic mound, and he has to fight every urge in his body not to lean down and run his nose through it.
“God, I need to come,” she whispers in agony. “I can’t believe you can still make me feel like this.”
“Touch it,” he demands, his hips starting to move to fuck his fist again. “Since you won’t let me help you.”
“Get rid of that bitch of a girlfriend and you can help me,” she says with a mischievous smile, running her middle finger down the center of her glistening opening.
“I’ll go do it right now, Tessa.”
“No, you’re going to finish what you started right now,” she says with a smile.
He was always able to make her do this – relax and give into whatever feels good. Whether that be sexually or finally shutting her schoolbooks to go to a party with him. She had been missing this side of herself for the past decade, the side of herself that only came out when he was around.
“Then you better get to fucking work,” he says. “Because I’m about to come just fucking look at you.”
Tessa starts moving two fingers now, up and down over her dripping wet lips, stopping at her clit to make small, firm circles, and she can’t help the whimper that escapes.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he whispers, taking another step forward.
“No one ever makes me this wet,” she says in amazement, and he groans at her words, his balls throbbing and begging to be released.
“That’s because that’smypussy,” he says sternly. “I had it first.”
“Tristan,” she whispers, her hips lifting off the table as her fingers sink deep inside.
“I mean it, Tessa.”
“Oh God. I need to come. It’s been so long since I’ve come.”
“Who the fuck have you been dating, angel?” his voice is angry, but his dick is angrier; his tip leaking and red, veins throbbing, balls tight up against his body.
“No one even close to you,” she says, her fingers pumping in and out rapidly.
“God, I can hear how wet you are,” he says. “I can fucking smell you,” he takes another step forward, “I can’t fucking do this anymore.”
He suddenly drops to his knees in front of her, and she gasps.
“Tristan.”
“Please let me,” he literally begs, and she hesitates before nodding her head yes, and he gives her a long swipe of his tongue, causing her whole body to vibrate.
“Ohh fuuuuck,” she moans. “More.”
He attacks her pussy with his mouth and tongue, all while he continues to pump himself faster, right on the brink, and he can tell that she is too.
He groans loudly against her, his tongue firm and wet against her clit, and she’s grinding her hips furiously into his face.
“Gonna come,” he stutters. “Need you there with me.”
She grabs his head and holds him steady against her, lifting her hips and whispering, “suck on my clit,” before he does just that, and she throws herself back onto the table, her body convulsing, legs bending, back arching off the table.
“Tristan! OH my God!”
With two final pumps of his fist, he spills out onto the floor, groaning like a cave man, rubbing his mouth and his chin, and nose, all over her, coating his face in her release.
It takes them both a solid minute to come down from their orgasm, and he finally stands on shaking legs. He looks down at her, still in her dress, but with it bunched at her waist, panties still pulled to the side and exposing her pussy to him. Her face is red and flushed, her eyes glazed over from desire.
