“He asked for this,” I think, as I grind my hips down and around, “earlier, when he asked me to sit on his face.”
I am holding the bedpost for balance as my body shakes and my back arches and my ass juts out and I come. I know he tastes my juice, hot on his mouth, my pussy closing around his tongue.
His arms wrap around my thighs and his fingers pull my labia apart.
I can feel my clit exposed, wanting warmth and cover. His tongue swirls it gently.
My body moves slightly forward and back against him, my cheek against the wooden wall hanging. I can smell the lacquer as my breath warms its surface.
My mind flashes to another smell, earlier in the evening.
I was on the floor between his legs. He was stretched out on his back. We had been talking about our new books and plans for the evening. His cock was semi-hard and as I moved to take it into my mouth my nose caught his scent.
I inhaled, drunk on the smell. I didn’t put my mouth on his dick. I buried my face in his hair instead and traced his scent across every inch of his groin.
Sweet. Salty. Musky.
My hair fell onto his thighs and slid over his cock, which was growing harder by the second.
He grabbed my head and pushed it down onto his shaft.
I am pushing myself down onto his face, his eyes closed as my body shudders through another wave.
I know this feeling in the pit of my stomach.
My pussy is poised for greatness.
I lift up from his mouth, still panting, and kiss him as I dismount.
I am going for a condom; he has other plans.
The fingers slide up to my g-spot, the other thumb to my clit. He is still on his back, I am beside him on my knees, legs spread, bracing myself with a hand on his leg.
He starts slowly, moving his fingers and wrist with steady pressure and gradually builds to a fucking rhythm I can get behind. I envision my pelvis totally relaxed.
My hips circle and I feel it: the cold tingle spreading from my clit throughout my body. I let myself be open. There is a low hum in my throat.
I don’t want to stop this.
It’s coming, and I can’t speak, can’t warn him that this is big- bigger than anything he’s felt.
My hips press forward and up as his three fingers massage my insides.
The hum becomes louder and he’s thrusting from his elbow and I’m ecstatic with the pulsing warmth and wetness.
I’m raining cum down his arm.
“Oh, Jesus…” he murmers.
I manage to ride through the first torrent only to cry out as the next wave crashes.
Again I’m flooded. He’s flooded. The sheets are flooded with my juice.
I open my eyes.
He is looking at me in awe.
I swallow and manage a smile.
He slowly withdraws his hand from my cunt.
The sheets beneath me are soaking wet.
I jump off the bed and start to tear them off.
I can’t believe I’m doing this after what just happened.
But I don’t have one of those plastic mattress covers.
We strip the bed. Or rather, I strip the bed and toss the sheets and mattress pad onto the hallway floor. Jefferson is strangely quiet.
I look at him and, using the sheet in my hands, dry myself from his forearm. I am exhilarated.
And the mattress topper is dry.
He kisses me, “I really need to fuck you.”
I sit on the edge of the bed as he readies himself next to it.
My pussy is juiced and hot and swollen so tight we both gasp when he pushes into me.
We are staring at each other as he holds my hips and fucks me slowly. My head is tilted to one side, watching him and smiling. He kisses my ankle, resting on his shoulder.
I am rocked by his movements, his speed increasing now.
“mmmmnnnn, ahmunna cum...”
He pulls out and shoots on my belly.