“I want you to lick me,” she said, carefully keeping her tone conversational. “What do you think?”
“I think I love you on my tongue,” he said. “I think there’s nothing I love more than feeling the surges as you try not to come, as you try to wait just one minute longer.”
His words were like a prelude to his cock, driving into her and pushing her open, giving her something to straddle and ride. She loved it, she loved every word of it. She went to the edge of the bed, then gratefully let herself sink down on the edge. Her clit was throbbing in time with her pulse, and she was slick, hyper aware of her pussy as she watched him walk towards her. “Strip,” she said.
He raised one eyebrow at her tone, and she acted on total instinct, nudging him hard in the thigh with the pointy toe of the shoes she still wore. It didn’t hurt, but it caught his attention. “My apologies, mistress,” he said, his tone humble and small. Oh, god, the word mistress went directly to her cunt, making her hips edge up a little bit, eager for something to press against, something to fuck.
Alex’s fingers went to his buttons, moving efficiently down his shirt. Too fast, way too fast. “Slow down,” she said. She found the side rails of the bed, down by the boxspring, and hooked her heels in them, spreading her thighs wide so that her cunt glistened wide open. “I want to watch you.”
His eyes locked on her sex as his hands moved more slowly over his buttons, working one at a time, gently edging his shirt open as he moved lower. She watched his mouth, the rapid rise and fall of his breath as she ran a hand over her breasts, tweaking each nipple, and then down her belly to the swollen curves of her lips. She was so wet and eager that the first stroke over her clit made her cry out, and she realized just how quickly she could drive herself to orgasm—if she wanted to. But no, that wasn’t what she had in mind. His eyes widened as she stroked her pussy with her fore and middle fingers, tracing her inner lips, her palm brushing against her clit while he finished unbuttoning his shirt, shrugged it off his shoulders, and with a bit of a lifted eyebrow, neatly folded it over a nearby chair.
When his fingers went to the button of his pants, she sank two fingers into her cunt, holding onto her control with an iron fist. She almost never came from penetration when she was masturbating, but right now, she was so close that she didn’t know what would push her over the edge. The smooth motion he used to push down his pants and his boxer briefs revealed his lean hips and strong thighs, and then he was standing in front of her, his erection weeping arousal and need, his hands placed carefully behind his back.
“Oh, that’s very nice,” she said, mimicking his tone. “On your knees.”
He knelt before her, his glorious tongue just a few inches from her cunt. She still had her fingers buried deep inside of herself, and she slowed down even further, forcing her breath into a calm and easy rhythm. She wanted him to work for this, not just get her orgasm the second he laid his mouth on her.
“Do you want me?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.
“Yes,” he replied, and he looked up at her, the first time he’d looked up since she’d opened her thighs, and she saw so much in his eyes. Need, and worship, and love, and trust.
“I want your mouth,” she said, quietly. “I want you to keep your hands behind your back. And if you make me come hard enough, I may let you fuck me.” It was an empty threat, she suspected that he knew that, but it made him shiver, and she felt the soft chuff of breath as he groaned against her thigh.
That was where he started. She kept her fingers working gently in her depth as he bit at her inner thigh. Her pussy clenched around her fingers and she cried out. Her free hand went behind her back, supporting herself as her stomach
“I think I love you on my tongue,” he said. “I think there’s nothing I love more than feeling the surges as you try not to come, as you try to wait just one minute longer.”
His words were like a prelude to his cock, driving into her and pushing her open, giving her something to straddle and ride. She loved it, she loved every word of it. She went to the edge of the bed, then gratefully let herself sink down on the edge. Her clit was throbbing in time with her pulse, and she was slick, hyper aware of her pussy as she watched him walk towards her. “Strip,” she said.
He raised one eyebrow at her tone, and she acted on total instinct, nudging him hard in the thigh with the pointy toe of the shoes she still wore. It didn’t hurt, but it caught his attention. “My apologies, mistress,” he said, his tone humble and small. Oh, god, the word mistress went directly to her cunt, making her hips edge up a little bit, eager for something to press against, something to fuck.
Alex’s fingers went to his buttons, moving efficiently down his shirt. Too fast, way too fast. “Slow down,” she said. She found the side rails of the bed, down by the boxspring, and hooked her heels in them, spreading her thighs wide so that her cunt glistened wide open. “I want to watch you.”
His eyes locked on her sex as his hands moved more slowly over his buttons, working one at a time, gently edging his shirt open as he moved lower. She watched his mouth, the rapid rise and fall of his breath as she ran a hand over her breasts, tweaking each nipple, and then down her belly to the swollen curves of her lips. She was so wet and eager that the first stroke over her clit made her cry out, and she realized just how quickly she could drive herself to orgasm—if she wanted to. But no, that wasn’t what she had in mind. His eyes widened as she stroked her pussy with her fore and middle fingers, tracing her inner lips, her palm brushing against her clit while he finished unbuttoning his shirt, shrugged it off his shoulders, and with a bit of a lifted eyebrow, neatly folded it over a nearby chair.
When his fingers went to the button of his pants, she sank two fingers into her cunt, holding onto her control with an iron fist. She almost never came from penetration when she was masturbating, but right now, she was so close that she didn’t know what would push her over the edge. The smooth motion he used to push down his pants and his boxer briefs revealed his lean hips and strong thighs, and then he was standing in front of her, his erection weeping arousal and need, his hands placed carefully behind his back.
“Oh, that’s very nice,” she said, mimicking his tone. “On your knees.”
He knelt before her, his glorious tongue just a few inches from her cunt. She still had her fingers buried deep inside of herself, and she slowed down even further, forcing her breath into a calm and easy rhythm. She wanted him to work for this, not just get her orgasm the second he laid his mouth on her.
“Do you want me?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.
“Yes,” he replied, and he looked up at her, the first time he’d looked up since she’d opened her thighs, and she saw so much in his eyes. Need, and worship, and love, and trust.
“I want your mouth,” she said, quietly. “I want you to keep your hands behind your back. And if you make me come hard enough, I may let you fuck me.” It was an empty threat, she suspected that he knew that, but it made him shiver, and she felt the soft chuff of breath as he groaned against her thigh.
That was where he started. She kept her fingers working gently in her depth as he bit at her inner thigh. Her pussy clenched around her fingers and she cried out. Her free hand went behind her back, supporting herself as her stomach
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