“Um. Okay. Almost… any bit,” I corrected myself.
I was so in love with her smile. There was a little dash of wickedness to it, and I couldn’t get enough of it.
Or her.
“Want to roll over?” she asked. “Onto your back?”
So I eased myself out of her (earning me a delightful little groan as my fingers cleared her pussy) and stretched out. She took a slow, deep breath as she gathered herself, then shimmied down the bed for a better view.
I opened my legs and reached down to spread myself for her so that she could see all of me.
She stared down at me.
“God,” she breathed, after a while. “You’re… so pink. And so… neat.”
I shifted my hips, smiled up at her. “I’m enjoying you staring at me like that. It’s very… entertaining. I like that expression.”
“Looking at your body like this is doing it for me, that’s for sure. You’re gorgeous. And I want you. Desperately so. What do you like, Willa? How can I please you? Please? Tell me what you need…”
“I… I really like slow touching of my clit. It’s my guaranteed crowd-pleaser. Just with a fingertip. Give me your hand…”
“Here…”
“Like… this…”
“Oh… oh wow, your skin is so soft. And… and you’re so warm and slick. And… so bare.”
“Yes…. uhn… like having not much down there…”
“It’s very erotic. I… like it…”
“Sam,” I whined.
“Yeah…”
“I’m loving this dirty talk. I really am… but, do you know what I’d really love right now?”
“What?” she breathed.
“You don’t have to do it…”
“Stop teasing. Tell me. I want to make you feel good.”
“I’d… love your tongue on me… if you like…”
“Oh.”
She pondered for a moment.
“Really?”
“If you don’t want…”
“No, I want,” she declared.
She shifted, lowered herself between my thighs; I groaned as she tentatively touched her tongue to me then withdrew.
“Where? How?” she mumbled.
“Just… around my clit… like you would a… finger…”
She dropped lower, gently probed me.
I couldn’t stop the low, almost pained moan; couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and tangle my hands into her hair as she slowly and hesitantly explored me, tasted me. She grew more confident as she felt how I was responding to her; I raised myself on my elbows and stared down at her, watching her as she nuzzled at me, tongued me, and even tried once or twice to probe my entrance with her tongue. She stared up at me, then broke for air, grinning.
“It’s… nice,” she breathed. “Doing this to you. Tasting you. I… like this. I like this a lot.”
She lowered her mouth to me again and I writhed, whimpering.
“Use… your fingers… in me…” I gasped in between her slow, excruciating licks.
She broke for air again, smiled up at me. “Is that nice?”
“So nice, oh my God it’s so nice…”
I let myself fall back and started to finger and tease my nipples, shuddering as she penetrated me with her finger and lowered her mouth to me again.
“Just… like that,” I whimpered. “That’s great. Just keep doing that. Do that… just do that… oh my God, Sam, you’re… you’re great, just… just don’t stop… or change anything, please…”
I was ramping up fast towards what promised to be a brutal orgasm.
God, I loved her in me.
I loved the hot scent of us making love. The heat of her mouth against me. The way her breath would sometimes catch in her throat as she swallowed…
I was close.
She had beginner’s luck.
Beginner’s fuck, the twisted bit of me punned.
And I began to laugh, and then my orgasm took me and turned my laughter to incoherence as I arched and writhed against her, thighs clamping hard on her cheeks as lightning and fireworks going off in every last far-flung bit of me.
She was pitiless. She kept tonguing me, making little delighted noises as she clenched me to her and possessed me, body and soul.
Very quickly, though, I reached the point where I couldn’t take any more.
“Stop. Stop stop stop,” I begged, body shaking wildly. “Please, please please, please Sam, please…”
And, achingly slowly, she slipped herself out of me and started to kiss her way up from my mons to my belly and from there upwards between my breasts to my mouth; she lowered herself to me and laughed, exultant, as my full-body shudder rattled us both.
I buried my face in her neck, balanced on a perfect razor’s edge between euphoria and tears; she must have sensed it because she rolled onto her side and pulled me in to her and lay there, simply stroking the back of my head, both of us just breathing.
.:.
She shifted slightly, tucked some strands of my hair away from my eyes.
“So…” she murmured.
I nuzzled closer, almost lost in her warmth. My hand rested on her hip, fingers curling to follow her lovely lithe form.
“Willa. Are you listening?”
“No.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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