Selfish

My breath finally released. It must have been an hour that it held like that. Caught in my throat, unable to move up or down. A lump that matched my feeling. And there I stood, my breath clumped at the base of my throat and my eyes held in utter fascination and anticipation. I haven't moved for the hour that my breath was held and now I'm stiff and disjointed.

Should I have announced my presence? Coughed or scuffled my feet outside the door? I heard the moan and pushed it ever so open. Did I expect someone else? I don't know, really. I don't care either, right now.

I watched. Through the little crack between door and frame and the mirror over the dresser. Watched with my breath bated. Held. Lumped in my neck. Unable to push it one way or the other.

Your beautiful fingers separated the petaled folds of your flowering. Pushed them gently but firmly aside. Pinned them there, open and waiting. I could see the glistening of dew and moisture. Hot, wet and wild, I couldn't help but think and I almost moaned myself.

Once pinned to the sides, your fingers probed inside. First they pushed into you steaming hole. Pushed in and pulled back. Again and another time. I repressed another moan, but you, you gave one out. A full, throaty, engaged moaning that reverberated at the base of my scrotum. Oh, I've heard that moan and loved it! That's the moan that means that everything is right with the world. The one that echoes within my heart.

Your fingers push in again and force another soul shaking moan from you. And I'm enraptured! Captured! Held there. Could I make a noise and stop you? Never! I can only watch as a deer watches. As a child stares at the colorful streamers waving in a blue sky. Delight and hope flutters within and wages life with anything that would show these banners false.

I watched and reveled in the vision. Your fingers moved, slowly up to the delicate budding. I could see it stretching out to your touch. Saw it stiffen from here. It woke, aroused and lifted. Your finger placed just the pad upon it. Lightly, softly, barely pressuring, the finger moved against your clit and circled.

My tongue flicked out without my knowledge or consent and tasted my lips. I was surprised they were without sweat. It felt to me as though heat were pouring forth from my pores, though my skin felt quite cool.

As your finger touched your clit, brushed against it, really. Moving in tiny circlets. I could just see droplets of glisten. Miniature beads of wetness and my tongue tasted it. Felt the wetness in the air. From afar.

Your lips were yet pinned open and I don't remember ever seeing anything as inviting. My awareness moved from my tongue to my fully hardened cock it was bursting the seams of my jeans. The cloth holding it back was stretched to breaking and where they met, my pulsing member and the taut clothing, it hurt. Ached from the tip to the base of my balls where they had drawn up wanting to spew their load.

I thought of taking it out. Unzipping my pants, releasing my rock hard cock and wrapping my hand around it. Stroking slowly, in time with your circles. My palm light upon the sensitive underside and my fingers resting over the top. I could push out away from my body and pull back in until it spasmed and jerked and shot a glop of jism onto the doorjamb. I wanted to so badly but feared making the noise that would stop you.

I groaned. Completely involuntarily. Fortunately, it came in time with your own moan. A particularly loud one. Your tempo had changed. You were tugging at your stiff little clit now. Pulling at it and spreading your wings further. They were so wide I could see a stream of liquid slipping out and down along the puffy pink lips. Sliding in a steady drizzle toward your anus.

I was positively enthralled by that rivulet. The way it ran in such a thin channel. I knew it was spreading underneath you because I have placed my hand there, on your ass, after you have been this wet and felt how it puddles there. The beguilement for me was not just the way you were enjoying yourself so thoroughly, but in the knowledge of that feeling. I know how you react intimately. I know how it feels to be inside you when the tempo steps up and the moan becomes loud and long and heartfelt -- just as it did now.

My cock leapt in this knowledge and anticipation and lust. It gave a a violent lurch against my jeans and made me double over with the intensity. Your moan was louder yet and your fingers moving with purpose and deliberation. I could virtually see the steam rising from your pussy and your ass made little lifts and circles. Your back was arcing into your fingers, pushing your clit out even as it reached and stretched itself. I could see it stiff, hard as my cock. As your red and puckered nipples that jutted from the tips of your tits.

My mouth watered. My cock ached. My throat was a lump of breath and my balls pained for release when I saw the shivering start. Your breasts, the delicate mounds I love to kiss and suck began shaking just that little bit. Just enough to see if you stared. Then your belly, flattened with the positioning on your back. I saw it shimmering and twitching.

You gave a ferocious set of moans and I would have but that my breath now had clogged all thought and sound. My cock jolted and tried to gain enough friction or pressure to set it off and release the wad blockaded inside.

Then you burst. The bed was shaking and you were moaning and seeing this was awe inspiring. Seeing this as now, from without. Always before it had been with me touching you and feeling the tremors. Having the spasms milking my cock buried deep within you.

And you moaned and thrashed and shook. And finally, at last and after too long, my breath let loose. Came out as a gasp and a sigh all wrapped together.

And with your breathing fast and heavy, and a panting quality to your voice, you said "don't just stand there. Come finish with me."