Peach

With particular thanks to figleaf at realadultsex.

*

Summer afternoon. Cicadas buzzing. Sunflowers in my garden. A dog barks somewhere, once, lazily. I settle on my back porch, book in my lap.

I am going to eat a peach.

Velvety skin. What is it they always tell you to look for at the market? "Heavy for its size." Yes. It's weighty in my hand. Pretty, pretty. Yellow shades to orange, pink is in there too. How remarkable, that every year there are peaches like this.

The fragrance. There's nothing else like it, voluptuous, sweet. I brush it over my lips. Inhale. Lovely.

I bite. Juice drips over my chin. I slurp, undignified, eager. Another bite and another. It's so good! I suck on the ragged flesh. I catch at another bite with my lips. Summer, so perfect, so brief. Why can't there be peaches all year long?

Sated, I set aside the pit, with its alien wrinkliness. I let my head fall back and I drift off to sleep.....

*****

I awake. He stands over me, smiling. He reaches down and takes the book out of my hands, kisses me softly. He flicks his tongue over my lips, tasting the fruit.

I start to speak, but he puts his fingers to my lips. He kneels in front of me and gently lifts my skirt, folding it back. He gazes at my mound, covered in soft white lace panties. He kisses it. I feel his breath, hot. I can't help but lift my hips, pressing my pussy upward towards his mouth. He laughs, low, his voice muffled against my skin. He puts his hands on my hips and slowly tugs my panties down.

He puts a hand on each knee, opens me, and spreads me for his pleasure. The first time he did this, I blushed, tried to close my legs. I laughed nervously and protested, "no, no." I couldn't stand being seen. He taught me to glory in my cunt, to flaunt it. Now, I wait, knowing that wetness is gathering on my silky cunt lips and that he longs to taste.

He dips his head, laps against my slit. Long slow licks up and down. I groan. He holds my knees firmly apart as he licks at me. Warm, wet, this is like nothing else. I can finger myself, I can put a dildo in my pussy, but nothing can pretend to this. I put my hands on his head and hold him to me. I breathe deeply. I savor this luscious kissing.

I tilt my hips just a bit, trying to get my clit to his tongue. He takes the hint, circles his tongue over my clit, around it, hard, slow, exactly as I like it. I cry out, and he slows his pace. He likes to do this, to tease, to push me forward towards orgasm and then to tug me back again. He sucks at my clit. He opens his mouth and slurps hungrily at it. I push my cunt into his face. Rubbing against him, wanton, needy. Again, he slows.

"Please...." I whisper.

"Please, what?"

"Please, suck my clit. Eat me. Tongue-fuck me. Make me cum. "

He grasps my ass and pulls me to him. He grinds his hot mouth against my pussy. He strokes my clit with his tongue, across, up, down, around, around. I can't stop moaning rhythmically now, sighing, feeling it build, wanting release. I beg him to keep going, do it, do, don't stop, eat my cunt, yes, just like that, make me cum baby, make your girl cum. The suckling at my clit torments me so sweetly. I open my legs as wide as I can, as if offer myself once and for all, and my back arches as I feel a surge sweep me. Then another--another--another. Sharp jolts shake me again and again.

I fall back, panting for breath. He lifts his head and smiles at me. He kisses my right thigh, then the left. He moves up to kiss my mouth, and I taste myself, sweet, a fleeting juiciness, like the ripest of summer fruit.