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Ode To His Cock

When his pleasure is all that she can think about....
Uncut. Perfect. Flared head. Mouthwatering. Tongue travels over dry lips, moistening them, breath fans out, warm. He lays there. His cock resting on his lower abdomen. My toy. My pleasure. I visually molest. Mental images of my tongue moving a slow path, tracing the thick vein. Feeling the ridges under the smooth silky skin. Inhaling deeply to take in the musk, his scent. Thighs quiver. I want to close my eyes. See the fantasy build behind my lids. An erotic film. Nothing but my man's cock. My lips. My tongue.

A low, tortured moan escapes. My feet begin a stutter step towards the bed. His place between my thighs that knows him so well, warms, grows wet. Aching. As much as I want to fuck. The pounding. The taste of his sweat on my taste buds. I want to savor something else, first.

Dawn is barely breaking the horizon. The bed gives under my knees. The cool cotton sliding along my lower legs. A shiver runs my spine. His hair roughened skin teases my inner thighs, my nipples. I moan. I nuzzle the lightly furred skin of his balls, running my tongue beneath then around, sucking lightly, pinching the skin gently between my teeth. Drawing them in deeper, rolling them upon my tongue. Moaning at his taste, his scent. His breath catches. His hips moving restlessly on the mattress.

Rough, calloused fingers tangle in my mussed hair, pulling it up from my face. Eyes meet his. Sleepy and sexy. The firm curve of his bottom lip caught between his teeth. I watch mesmerized as I watch his chest rise and fall. His stomach concaved as his breath hisses loudly in the quiet room. Filled only with the sounds of moans, gasps, an erotic symphony. My senses are filled with him. The spice and musk of his body and arousal. His deep rumble of pleasure.

With a soft slow suction I enjoy the feel of him filling my mouth, the tease of hair over my tongue, his textures perfect. Releasing him with a small almost silent pop. I watch him as my tongue strokes over my lips then drop them to his cock. Thick, long, heavily veined. A whimper sounds as I look at the small bead of pre-cum. Dipping my head in slow motion, taking my reward for his pleasure. Musky, salty, bitter, familiar, my tongue laps slowly, savoring it as I let the taste burst.

This is my altar, this cock is what I worship, it has brought me ecstasy, taken my mind, shattered me into a million pieces. I take my time. Savor it. Know that this moment could be as fleeting as the blink of an eye. I don't think about a minute from now, or a day from now, he and I exist now, no past, no future, just this. With that thought, with trembling hand I wrap my fingers around the base, lift him to my lips, my tongue peeking out, pushing beneath that extra skin, running slowly beneath it. I pull back. Nibble. Tug with my teeth. Just the way he likes. Just the way that makes him jerk in my hand, against my lips.

Eyes close, with a slow stroke of my hand up, then down, I pull back the foreskin to lovingly stroke over the smooth flared head. Push into the tiny slit. Again he jerks. His pulse pounds against my palm. The acceleration of his heartbeat my guide, proving just how much he loves my worship. Lips circle, suck, another burst of bitter salt. Moaning at the flavor, at the pull at my hair, the sting at my scalp.

Lips travel downward, as my free hand moves between my own thighs, humid, pulsing with need. My fingers circle with an agonizing slowness. I flatten my hand, tapping at the bare lips of my cunt. I tremble. He glides over my tongue, the extra skin an erotic pleasure that quickens my heart and breath. Deeper. Throat relaxes, swallowing around that broad tip, I feel the need to gag, deep breath, relax muscles further. I take him. Loving him as deeply as my body would allow. Retreating with a twist, half way, plunging again, another swallow.

This is what I love. Nothing more than this. I could suck this cock until the end of time. His pleasure feeding my own. I work feverishly between my thighs, slapping lightly, then circling. Dancing over his beautiful cock. Taking him deeper with each suction of my lips. He pulses against my tongue, in my throat. Retreating only to take him again. Unable to bear losing the fullness of him in my mouth, the stretch of my lips around his width.

Faster. Harder. Lips tighter. I pull back, flicking the sensitive spot just beneath the head. I can hear and sense the change, his balls tighten, his hips lift, fucking my mouth in hard thrusts and I allow it. Knowing my reward was coming soon. A low growl. One last thrust of his hips and he's seated deeply in my throat. I swallow each drop of him greedily. Moaning and shaking as I cum as he does. His pleasure my reward. Those fingers tighten in my hair, pulling me away, I lick up his lack, savoring it. On trembling thighs, his hands in my hair I make my way up his body. His breath fans my lips. Kisses me softly.

If only I could write an ode to my man's cock at dawn.

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