"And now"—as Kayla spoke, she grabbed hold of Michael's boxers from either side of the waistband—"it's time to take care of you."
Before the underwear came off, she wanted to tease him a little and also work to drive him mad.
"And let me tell you," she continued, "you deserve it after that. Don't you think?"
Michael reached up and rubbed the back of his head. "Uh...I guess."
The muscles in his raised arm were flexing beautifully, inducing a state of aphrodisia inside his lone observer. She had an adonis in front of her.
"No, no. You need to show me that you believe you deserve it."
"I deserve it," he said meekly, unconvincingly.
"Uh-uh," she rejected. "Do I have to remind you that you just made your first woman cum? Your mouth and your tongue and your hands on my ass—all of it. You. You made me orgasm against your lips." Her sly attempt was working, made obvious by the pulsating bulge inside his boxers, which had a life of its own. "Now I want you to tell me if you deserve it."
His chest puffed slightly. The look on his face grew determined and serious. This was it.
"Yes," he boomed, "I fucking deserve this."
"Uh-huh," she agreed, "tell me why, you fucking stud."
"Because I made you cum. Me."
"Say it again!" his personal cheerleader implored.
"I fucking made you cum!"
"Yeah? Say it again again, hunk."
Kayla was finally ceding. The waistband of Michael's boxers began to roll down his pelvic bone. His butt instinctually rose up off the chair in order for her to undress him fully, just like when she had slid down his pants.
"I gave you a fucking orgasm," he practically growled in response.
His underwear was now around his thighs, slowly but surely revealing a thick patch of pubic hair at the base of his rippled V-line.
The anticipation of the moment got to Kayla as much as it did Michael, despite all of it being designed by her for him. She could not believe that the moment had finally come for her to see what treat he had hidden away for her this whole time. She wanted to count the number of veins and trace them with her tiny fingertips. Her nails were painted pink to match her toes; she wanted to turn her hand over and drag one of those nails down his gorgeous shaft. She felt like she could burst into another series of orgasms just imagining it all.
The waistband finally revealed a thick rod emerging from a base covered with carefully trimmed pubes. His noteworthy housekeeping was finally getting a chance to be admired.
Kayla stopped her actions. "Keep talking and I'll keep going."
Michael looked down into her soul and spoke. "I made your pussy cum all over my face. I know you loved it so much. I did that." A wicked smile grew.
Kayla continued, satisfied. The waistband kept going. And going.
Holy fuck! Where does this end!?