As I neared her pussy I stuck out my tongue like I was trying to catch a snowflake and a pearl of moisture oozed out onto it. I hadn't even touched it yet. I'd just spent the last hour tying her up and teasing her, alternately licking and sucking her nipples then kissing up and down her thighs. Her eyes were half shut and glazed, her mouth an open gape. She writhed with every kiss, her hands suspended above her and her movement limited, tied up as she was.
I so enjoyed the taste and sensation of her pussy juice being dispensed into my mouth that I considered teasing her for longer, getting more and more juice to pulse out of her. It was starting to run down her thighs. But I really wanted to touch her and I just couldn't resist taking my finger and running it oh-so softly from the bottom of her vulva up to her clit. She moaned, grateful for that grazing touch, and rocked her hips upward, seeking more pressure.
She was insanely beautiful. I had wanted her for years and our timing just hadn't been right. The moment I had an opportunity I took it. We were both single, so I invited her out for dinner. After dinner, as we walked together, she told me that she wasn't ready for a relationship, that she was too raw and needed time to heal. Her eyes burned as she said it, her neck became red and flushed, almost rashy. I sensed something else behind it and so when she stopped speaking I stayed silent. She reached out for my hand and pulled me towards her. I waited for her to open her stance so I could fill it. I took a step toward her and she did, opening her legs as if to steady herself. She smelled like musk and vanilla and sweat. I became so excited knowing that I would finally be able to taste her.
We kissed and my head started to swim with desire. I wanted to make her moan and beg, to make her cum. When she touched her tongue to my bottom lip, like a snake tasting the ground, my clit jumped in my pants. I didn't want to push my luck, I resolved to be patient and gracious if that kiss was all that the night would bring. It wasn't, but it would have sustained me through many nights alone touching myself if it had been.
When she invited me back to her place, and with a smile silently handed me the ropes (both literally and figuratively), I couldn't believe how much my luck had changed.
I continued to slide my finger up and down her slit, hearing her hiss everytime I gently touched her swollen clit. I stopped touching her and she opened her eyes, watching to see what I would do next. I took my finger in my mouth and swirled my tongue around it like a lollipop. She tasted salty, a little acidic, and also slightly metallic. A faint trace of blood. My mouth watered.
I kneeled down so that I was right in front of her pussy. I lapped at her clit a couple of times, she jumped and moaned loudly. I didn't think she was going to last long and I still wanted to fuck her. I rubbed two fingers on the entrance to her pussy and felt her trying to suck me right in. I licked her clit and felt her introitus pulse back at me, aching to be filled. She was trying to push down to get my fingers inside her, but she could only go so far. I took my hand away and she groaned.
I smiled at her and asked, "Do you have a dildo or something you like to fuck yourself with?"