I lift my eyes to meet his, but they’re closed. He appears lost in the bliss of this moment. I give him a particularly naughty twirl of the tongue. His breath hitches. I apply more pressure. My hands squeeze him firmly, guiding him deeper into my mouth, as deep as I can take him. I want him to come. He’s close—I can sense it.
But instead, he grips my shoulders and nudges me upward until his cock is free.
“Something wrong?” I ask, panicking. “Did I go too hard?”
“No, it was perfect.”
“Are you in pain? Where does it hurt?”
He shakes his head. “Nowhere.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
His eyes burn into mine. “Ride me.”
Oh.“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” He smiles. “Just don’t lean on my chest.”
I kick off my sandals and climb on the bed. Carefully, I position myself above him, my knees on the bed, straddling his hips. My center hovers over his without touching, while my skirt covers his midsection. I’m dying to feel his flesh inside mine, but I refuse to rush things.
Very slowly, I lower myself until our sexes touch, and then I stop.
“You’re dripping wet for me,” he says, his voice filled with deep, triumphant satisfaction.
“Pff, like you expected any less!”
Suddenly, his eyes widen. “No panties?” He pulls a faux-scandalized face. “You vixen!”
“Happy first day of summer,mon amour!” I giggle, feeling silly. And happy.
His cock twitches in response.
This morning when I put on my flirty sundress, earning a compliment from Henri wasn’t my only motive. I had a hidden agenda. I was going to flash him if the opportunity presented itself. It didn’t. But something better happened instead.I’m about to get laid!This was just as unhoped as it is wonderful.
Henri reaches under my skirt and strokes the inner side of my thighs, before sliding a finger into my soaked sex. His caresses are slow at first.Too slow.
“Harder!”I protest.
The mischievous smirk on his lips tells me this is intentional. The bastard is stalling, torturing me with gentle strokes in revenge for my earlier teasing. I writhe and grind my hips, trying to quench the void. But in vain.
Finally, he takes pity on me. Adding two more fingers, he switches to a decidedly more vigorous pace. His energetic, forceful rubbing—exactly where I need it and just the way I like it—brings me to a climax within seconds. The orgasm isn’t as powerful as a vaginal one, but it’s lovely.
Our lips crash together and lock in a sultry kiss. I lower myself onto him, feeling him slide into my slick and eager core with a relentless pressure that makes me wild with lust. Still, I pace myself as I grind down onto his rock-hard member. My core stretches to accommodate him. My womb clenches with desire and my inner walls tighten, yearning for more friction and seeking deeper penetration.
The sensations that accompany this gradual entry are exquisite. Every successive breach is a new threshold of pleasure. The primal need that courses through my body intensifies by the second.
Henri’s hands roam freely over my body, and his gaze drills into mine, hot. “That’s it, Gigi, no more teasing!”
He grips my hips and shoves me all the way down, until my pelvis is flush with his. The full length of him is embedded inside me now. We stay like that for a moment, savoring the sensations. I wriggle a bit so that my body can greet and feel every ridge and vein, every glorious part of his cock.He’s such a perfect fit for me!Granted, this is old news, but every time at this precise moment of our joining, I’m reminded of it, and the notion fills me with endless joy.
His hands gripping my hips guide me up before pulling me back down, setting off a rhythm fast enough that I know he won’t try to draw it out. He’s headed straight to the finish line, knowing that I won’t be able to come while I’m on top, working him. I never could. Something about being in charge distracts me enough to make peaking impossible.
Our bodies move together in that perfect rhythm, his length gliding in my channel with ease. We go faster and faster. Beads of sweat form on my forehead. His T-shirt is wet with his perspiration.
We keep moving feverishly as the pleasure builds. My inner walls flutter with every delicious stroke. I arch backward, bend forward, moan into his neck. My voice mingles with his.
“I’m going to come,” he grits.
