How can it be?How can I feel so much at his mercy, and at the same time confident and in control? I know he’s burning to pleasure me. I also know he won’t go where I don’t wish him to go or do anything I tell him not to do. That knowledge gives me a sense of great safety.
Is it an illusion?Am I deceiving myself? Will Darrel hurt me?
Emotionally, no doubt. I suspect he’ll break my heart if I don’t guard it.
Physically, though?Never.If there’s anything I’m certain of these days, that’s it.
“Keep going,” he encourages me. “Stroke yourself.”
I run my fingers against my slick, swollen clit. I’m extremely aroused but I’m too aware of his gaze to be able to relax deeply enough to come. There is no release in sight. I don’t think I can orgasm with Darrel looking at me like he does.
“Give me your hand,” he orders suddenly.
I do.
“The other hand, Stella.”
Oh.I lift my glistening fingers toward him. He grabs my hand and lifts it closer to his face, and just holds it for a moment. His nostrils flare at the smell of the liquid coating my fingers. His eyelids come down with appreciation. Expectantly, I wait to see what he’ll do next. I have an idea, but I don’t dare to give it credence.
Oh, God, he’s doing it!He sucks my fingers, one by one, and licks between them, staring me in the eye. The erotic charge that shoots through me is so strong I shudder.
He’d asked about my fantasy earlier—and I didn’t have the guts to reveal it. Having no real-life experience with sex, it’s hard to gauge if a practice I saw in a porn movie is something real people do in real life. Women giving men blowjobs seems to be. But what about the other way around? Do unwaxed men enjoy giving cunnilingus as much as porn stars do? Or, should I say, pretend to do?
Well, given how Darrel suckles and licks my fingers, his eyes now closed and a blissful expression on his face, I feel that they just might. This man, at any rate.
“Would you like to lick me down there?” I ask him.
His eyelids fly open. “I’m dying to do that! I was hoping you’d let me. But I also feared you might balk at that caress, find it too intimate.”
“My favorite fantasy lately has been about you doing that.”
He studies my face. “Is that true?”
“In the basement, after you suckled on my breasts, and it felt so good, I couldn’t stop wondering how it would feel if you used your tongue and lips”—I glance between my legs—“down there.”
He draws closer. “You kill me, Stella.”
And then he grabs my legs, pulls me down a little, spreads them wider and settles between my thighs. All my shyness and hesitancy are gone now. I’m panting and trembling with anticipation.
Darrel’s eyes are fixed on my mound. “If you knew how much I’ve longed to bury my face in your sweetness and eat you up!”
All I can manage in response is a shaggy groan.
His lips curl into a slight smile. “Spread your folds, baby, and hold.”
My fingers obey immediately, eagerly.
He slides the tip of one long finger into me, like last time, and then his mouth descends on my clit, making me gasp. His tongue swirls around it once, gently. He hardens it and applies more pressure, and begins to lick, gradually increasing the intensity of his strokes. His finger moves faster, plunges deeper. He brings me to the brink with each deft movement before easing off just enough to keep me from going over.
I arch my back into every lick and every suck. His tongue finds a rhythm that speaks directly to my core, coaxing moans from me, which rise and fall in time with the flicks of his tongue. I thrash, but he holds me in place, allowing me no reprieve. He’s kissing me, licking me, suckling, caressing me with his fingers, lips, and tongue. I writhe and jerk against him. I plead, calling his name.
He works me with a resolute, relentless single-mindedness.
My body is on fire with the sensations coursing through me. It’s too much. I communicate it by wriggling away from the pressure. But Darrel doesn’t stop. There is no doubt in my mind that if I tell him to stop, he will. I press my lips together to keep me from doing that. I am incoherence personified, but I don’t want him to stop.
He keeps pleasuring me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of a cliff. There will be a delicious release on the other side—I know that. But the tension in my core is so great I begin to doubt I can survive the tumble.
When I attempt to slither away, he holds me down and moves his tongue so hard and fast that there’s no more escape. Seconds later, I tip over the edge.
