Because He Eats My Pussy

I could love him for his looks, his sexiness, or the warmth of his lightly furred chest beneath my palms when we fuck. Hell, I could love him for the way he smiles as if I am the only woman in the room. Oh, hell, I'm too selfish for that, because, I love him for the way he eats my pussy. The talent of that tongue should be legendary, the fodder for raging mythical, thigh clenching orgasms. And, what can I say, that gift is bestowed upon me alone.

He had called at lunch, ordered me to be naked and ready when he arrived. For the reward that I would receive I didn't even think of saying no. Now, here he is, business suit still in place and the heat in his eyes making it feel like a physical caress. Slightly calloused hands move to the backs of my thighs, opening them, pushing my knees back. My head rests on the pillow, my inner thighs are already slick, pussy aching with vivid memories of the night before, of this morning.

Dropping a kiss to my lips, giving me a smile and I close my eyes to the slow gentle glide of his lips down my body. Taking his time, teasing me with the achingly slow strokes, bites and sucks to my nipples, over the curve of my stomach. He dips his tongue into the hollow of my belly button and still he moves lower. His intent clear.

Hips lifting restlessly from the bed, urging him on, he presses a kiss to my perfectly trimmed mound, his breath teasing the curls. I would call him a tease, but I know that once he starts I’m going to have to beg him to stop. A secret smile tilts my lips as he groans and the rough flat of his tongue finally licks from weeping pussy along my slit. The tip pushing between my pussy lips, teasing my clit.

Fingers clench in sheets. Back arches. I feel his body shift, laying down on the bed, lifting my head I look down at him. His face is buried between my thighs, his eyes taking in the look of me. He enjoys the way pussy tastes, the way it looks, the scent of a woman’s arousal, and the truth is in the heat of his stare.

Reaching one hand out, combing my fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his faintly damp brow. He lifts into the caress of my hand, my fingers clench in his soft hair, pulling him down. Hands slip beneath my ass, lifting me into the probing of his tongue, he pushes in, curls that tongue upward, tracing around just the entrance. The pressure and pleasure cause me to clench.

Controlled chaos between my thighs, he fucks me with his tongue, lashes me with it, fast then slow, heart beats a hard rhythm against my ribs, breaths pant from between pouted pink lips. Rough fingers dig into the generous curves of my ass. Lightning strikes of ecstasy that flow in waves outward from the epicenter of my pussy. A shiver runs my spine. Teeth sinking into lower lip as heels press into mattress as I lift, riding his now thrusting tongue.

Sweat mists my body, beading between my breasts. Wetness flows from between my thighs to the blanket beneath. He laps greedily, alternating, thrust then gathering his reward on his tongue. Deep rumbles in his chest tells me he loves it, loves what I give him, I am his every ready feast. He merely has to command and I allow him in, give him the gift of my pleasure.

He finds something sexy about a woman that comes apart at his insistence and I have no choice, because I love the way he eats my pussy. A gasp leaves me as without warning I am turned, brought to my knees straddling his shoulders. Fingers fist in sheets, breasts sway beneath me and he only growls, an unsaid order to move, to take control.

Straightening, sitting back, hips roll, arch and ride his twirling tongue, front to back, tongue entering me, orgasm on the edge, ready to fall over the precipice and take over. I ignore it, pushing it away, ass arches back in a slow rhythm, a broad sweep, thighs quiver and I gasp. Big hands to hips, cupping them, holding me still.

Lips nip, suck, suckling sounds as he pulls on and off my hard clit, dragging it between his lips, only to increase the suction. My hands go to my breasts, squeezing, pinching the hard aching nipples. Oh my Goddess, there’s that fast flick over my captured clit. Body jerks and I let out a girl squeak, it happens each time. A ragged sigh. A tortured moan. Short nails graze over my ass.

The wetness flows freely from my pussy, it’s a steady stream showing him just how much I love what he does. I can’t keep myself still, can’t deny the tightening in my lower belly, the sharp spasms. I whisper that I’m going to, the words are cut off, that’s all he needed to hear. It’s a primal frenzy as he pushes me closer, flicks, licks and sucks, not allowing me time to recover, to try to hold on to the pleasure another minute.

Thighs give just before he turns me again, he’s on his knees, my ass cradled in his hands. My legs rest heavy over his shoulders as I can do no more than give in, let the orgasm hit me, tear my senses, leave me nothing to hold onto, but the screaming release. He takes every drop of wetness, licking over my oversensitive folds, my pulsing clit. I can only hang there suspended in his grip.

My mind shattered, I can hear nothing but my own heartbeat in my ears, feel the quivering of muscles recovering. And still he eats me, he hasn’t stopped , hasn’t slowed, he will not stop, and I won’t complain. Arms move back, gripping the edge of the mattress, holding on for round two even as my mind screams that I won’t come again. My body knows differently, like me, my body loves him because he eats my pussy.