"Tell me more about what you want me to do against this wall." His hands framed her face as he tilted his head and kissed her. Loads of tongue and a great deal of heavy petting had her wound up super fast.
"Um…" How was she supposed to know when she’d never actually done it that way?
"You want to wrap your legs around my hips, so your tits are in my face?" he asked.
Okay, yes, sure, she could do that. It sounded super fun.
She nodded. She gulped. Her mouth went dry and between her legs was oh-so-soaked.
"You want me to put my mouth on ’em?" he asked, his beard brushing against her cheek and his tongue licking at her earlobe. "While I hold your ass and you take all of me inside you?"
"You’re better at this than I am," she admitted, already totally wound up.
She didn’t mind at all, because he could talk dirty to her all day long if this was how that played out.
"You’ll learn quick," he assured. "Just tell me what you want me to do first."
"Shirt or pants?" she asked.
"Shirt," he said, slowly, like they had all the time in the world.
"Then take off your shirt," she said way too quickly.
He released her, which she did not like. But then he pulled off his shirt, which she very much did.
"And your pants second," she directed her gaze to his pants.
Slowly, he unbuckled his pants and shucked them off, so he only stood there in his skivvies.
Mach wasn’t a gym rat, but he was total masculinity in human form. His thick thighs and defined abs. The smattering of hair across his chest that trailed in a V down to his—
"Now take off my shirt," she said, lifting her arms so he could do it more easily.
Lucky for him, she’d already changed, so there was no bra underneath. With a deft quickness, he removed her shirt, and with one knee on the sofa, he pulled her to him and pressed his mouth to her nipple.
The no-bra bit was actually lucky for her, not him, because he lavished her breasts with kisses. He traced her nipples with his tongue—the whole time holding her in place so she couldn’t move. Not that she would’ve moved away from the amazing things he could do with his mouth.
Her hands in his hair, she said, "Take off my pants."
She’d never had sex like this. She’d always asked for what she wanted, yes, but she’d never had a partner who anticipated her needs and didn’t make her wait. Mach slid her pants and panties down her thighs, over her knees, and with a tender touch she could never have expected from him, he helped her step out of them.
There was no more chance to give any more direction because he lifted her to the sofa without delay, and she was horizontal on her back, her knees over his shoulders, his face between her thighs.
She gasped as he licked and tested the sensitive skin there before he dove in and devoured her.
In her experience, this was not the thing men usually loved to do, so if she wanted to ask for it, she had to bake a cheesecake first to sweeten the deal.
Mach, however, was all in. He used his fingers and his tongue until she bucked against his mouth, demanding more and craving release.
"You’re going to wait until I’m ready," he said, talking to her between her legs and stroking the triangle of hair where her thighs came together.
"Okay," she said, automatically, but he didn’t seem to be talking to her.
"I’m not ready yet." He continued stroking, and swear to God, he dirty-talked to her lady bits like they were a sentient part of this encounter.
That only turned her on more and her hands went to his hair, rubbing his scalp like she’d done on his back the night before. He pressed a kiss at her bundle of nerves, then flicked it with his tongue and nipped softly with his teeth.
Hold up, were they allowed to do that? She’d always been told absolutely no teeth during oral activities.
