Kitchen. Max returns late from a night out with her childhood friend Amy. For the last week my jealousy has been building. Maxine leaves in another week's time to finish up her degree. I've been alternately petulant and short tempered with her or clingy and overbearing. I can tell its grated on her, she's tired of it. We fight shortly after she walks in and I am a child throwing a tantrum, I rage and cry and she is stunned at first then defensive and hurt by my angry foolishness. I'm just a selfish lover. I want her to stay here with me - maybe she can finish her classes remotely. Selfish infantile fool.
Her scent, a perfume of sweat from the club and the subtle citrus-y spritz she wore out. The tang of drink. She leans against the counter and berates me. Her toned midriff and shadowed belly button bare below the clingy club shirt - her shining eyes - god she turns me on. My anger shrinks under the rising heat of my desire. I'm desperate to hide it and flash a ridiculous accusation at her, some stupidity about her and Amy. She blows up. I think I really hurt her and my heart aches to see what I've done. It's hard to breath.
A croak of regret and somehow I punch a hole in the wall. The burst of pain shocks me out of this clingy anguish and I collapse against the baseboard. Where the hell did that come from? Instantly Max softens and kneels beside me - worry writ across her brow as I hold my wrist. Tentative words are exchanged, consolation and reconciliation, but my anger turns against myself - all this undeserved shit I'm putting her through. I look through tears up at her and her beauty steals my breath again. I hate to see the worry in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm... I..." I splutter and gasp. Her scent, close, stirring. All I want to do is be with her, to make her happy, the happiest person on earth, but I'm doing the opposite and the hurt and confusion I see in her face tear at me.
"I need you to use me tonight." I finally spout. "Take me... fuck me right here. Take whatever you want..."
Her eyes glint beneath a furrowed brow. She hesitates, then, "Take off my pants," she whispers. Standing before me she hooks her thumbs into the waist of her leggings. I help her peel them down. "Now... panties." The heady fragrance of her sends my heart racing and I almost melt as her hands push my face into her warm wet pussy. I nuzzle myself into her syrupy snatch and run my tongue through her delicate folds. Opening my mouth I try to cover all of her while she grinds against me and holds me hard against her sweet oyster. I nearly cry at the taste of her.
Soon I'm on my back and she's looking down at me and straddling my face. Her puffy lips lower down to smother me and she starts fucking my face with long strokes. My tongue penetrates and coils and flicks at her while her soft petals slide up and down over my chin, and lips, and nose, and brow.. She leaves me slick with her trail. It shines like oil on her thighs. I moan a muffled hunger amidst the sticky sounds of her all around me. I see her eyes in brief glimpses past her swollen pink button and her curly bush now flecked and glistening.
Her forehead creased now with raw desire. Max is fucking me with gusto, humping every part of my visage with long powerful strokes. I'm hers to use, a willing servant, a toy for her to ride. Her firm rear in my encouraging hands is a pliant swell of hungry heat, the powerful engine of her thrusting. I want only to see her screaming and squealing atop me, to feel her secret lips quavering on mine.
Suddenly she slides forward until her delicacies are smashed upon my brow and then she angles back to bury my face between her glorious globes until I'm tonguing at the puckered sphincter she feeds me. I'm too aroused to be surprised. She's never let me explore her there before, outside of a few teasing kisses soon after we got together. I've had to content myself with pecking at the firm swell of her rump and savoring the feel of it in my kneeding hands. Or an occasional tickling finger that slips down along her dark valley when she's humping my thigh.
Now she growls deliciously and settles her full weight onto my hungry tongue. I lap and prod that wrinkled nexus in a fugue of lust and manage to push the tip of my lingual lance into her dark tunnel where I luxuriate in the soft iron grip of its clenching.