She curved her fingers slightly, pressing into that spot just enough to where that familiar tightness formed in my belly. The discomforting urge to urinate on the sheets, when really this was a sign of my first orgasm reaching the surface. Its head breaking flat water and letting out a big gasp of air, relieved from its long journey through the inner tides and embracing the chills that accompanied its freedom. My cheeks were burning through the pillow I rested my head upon; unable to restrain myself from those erratic bodily jolts. This girl is killing me.
"What a mess..." she cooed into my exposed ear, eliciting another dramatic jerk. The waves had long passed, but until she rested her hand on my lower back, my muscle control lacked stability. I wondered if I really was in so much despair that I lost restraint of my limbs, or did I long for her to speak more on my dismantled display- tell me more about how reckless I am, how my heart has escaped my chest and is being massaged by her talented hands.
"How do you feel?"
My bottom lip trembled, and I cursed myself for it, "I feel weird..."
"That's normal," she brushed a strand of hair that was clinging to my stained cheek, "It's different being on the bottom. But you'll get used to it."
Like I'd really spend the rest of my left bending over for a girl shorter than me, younger, and less experienced. To have a person like that take charge was asinine. Being on top was in my wheelhouse, so why did I give her the keys?
She hummed a happy tune at the sight of my disheveled face recovering from its body's explosion, then she took a nipple in her mouth and sucked. She inserted the bud between her lips gently, more delicate than a baby craving milk from its mother. I couldn't escape the intrusive fantasy of breastfeeding this woman, looking down with pride on being able to calm her aggression for a bit.
She released the nipple with a sharp pop before switching to the next one, and it appeared that it was that particular gland that sent new bolts of lightning out my clit and up my thighs. My muscles clenched underneath her and she hummed again, sending mini strikes into my nipple, so that I was being attacked from my lower & upper half. The power of her tongue, swirling clockwise around me, had subdued my free will. I wanted to touch her, push her onto her back so that I can return to my normal routine, but it's almost as if her scraping her tongue at my duct shut off a switch inside and left me with my arms above my head, unhinging my mouth to release the pent-up frustrations that lingered in my soul.
Something cool pressed against me. "You're even more wet now. I'm flattered..." She adjusted my limp legs so they were bent and spread. It felt sudden how she transferred her mouth from my nipple to my pussy; time was skipping quickly, similar to when I'd fast forward through the exposition of a porno to reach the sex scenes. I gained a new appreciation for foreplay; without it, I don't think I'd be as comfortable letting this little princess lap up my cum.
Back arched, my body was resurrected from the grave. Her digging her tongue past my vaginal walls was the code to activate my attack, as my legs wrapped around her head and pushed her deeper inside. "You like that pussy, don't you?" I growled. She hummed in agreement, her tongue going back to work once the shock wore off. "Such a dirty cum slut, couldn't get out of your own clothes before stripping off mine. Pinning me against the wall, lowering my defenses, just so you can feel like a big shot." It was easy to get in the mood once we went back to my place. The plan was always to have sex, but I didn't think it needed an explanation to say that I was supposed to be on top. Girls like her wouldn't know what to do with a woman like me; but she proved me wrong. I hated that.
My hand combed through her hair and tightened its grip on the strands in one sloppy ponytail, "Yeah...now you're stuck. It's your fault I'm rubbing my dripping wet cunt against your mouth. You have no one to blame but yourself for suffocating between my lips."
"Mmmhmm!" she agreed once more. Her eagerness was bordering on immaturity. She was still unaware of who she fucked with. She's a precious vase that wouldn't break under the worst weather conditions, and I wanted to be that final thunderstorm that made her crack.
My legs were growing numb from being locked in position for so long, but the loud slapping collisions of her face in my crotch was more than enough to withstand the pain. But just as I intended to leave her sobbing for air, that pink tongue scraped the side of my clit. It wriggled beside it how a worm buries itself through a patch of dirt. It tickled more bolts inside, along with storms and whirlwinds, a crashing disaster that was fed fat droplets of rain as I roared through another orgasm. I could feel it, the waterfall of cum splashing on her lips. She returned to fucking my opening while vacuuming my release down her throat. It was too hard to see her efforts through the tears.
"You said you had a strap-on, right?" she said after swallowing her last serving. I had forgotten toys were a thing. From ropes to vibrators, I assembled all the weapons I could to take down my partners. But she must have installed the mechanics of a rose toy in her mouth because there was just no way, it was impossible with the body count she had that her performance could be up to such a high caliber. Now she wants to try the strap, which was my ultimate sword to plunge within my lovers.
