We ran to the kitchen and he took it out of the oven, a little too late. I was laughing behind him, covering my mouth and nose as he coughed and waved the tablecloth to clear the smoke out. He turned around, nostrils flaring, eyebrows scrunching together, and through gritted teeth, he barked, “Why are you laughing?” The frustration in his rumbling voice was ominous, like a subdued thunder. “I am really hungry!”

He bent me over the kitchen counter, separated my buttocks, and ate my pussy and ass with riotous abandon. I feared he would bite off my clit.

The cold of the marble counter clashing with the heat of my body, particularly my nipples, added to the already exhilarating experience. It also took me right back to that day in the classroom. Same temperature shock; same abrupt thrusting into me with arrant wantonness and total rampancy; same fleeting bewilderment and unquenchable avidity for sexual exploration and gratification.

I lost count of how many times he spanked my ass but got off on not knowing when or if another one was coming. He was the first person to ever punish my rear this way. (There were plenty of firsts that night.) I came again all over his mouth, with the unrelenting sting on my rump. My legs were wobbling so badly that I wasn't sure they’d hold me if I stood up.

He kept me there, taking me in, gloating at the sight of his actions’ full impact. Cumming that hard, it takes a moment to come down to Earth, you know? Powerful orgasms are such bliss, it's a shame not to pause and truly bask in them. When I regained full consciousness, I became gradually aware of his movements: a light albeit steadfast tickling of his thumb on my clit and two fingers up my ass, slowly twisting left to right. I knew what was next. Even though this wouldn't be a first, I was wary.

“Take that ass to the couch. Wait for me on all fours. And don't peek!”

His husky tone was impossible to resist. I was smitten by the way he talked to me: not bossy, just assertive. I did as I was told. My butt was flaming red; my cunt still pulsating from my climax and its produce was trickling down my legs. His approaching footsteps echoed off the living room walls, and before he reached the couch, a strange, unexpected aroma I could not yet identify hit me. 

Instinctively, I tried to look up, but he held my head down, sunk in the corner where the back meets the armrest. The flat of his tongue trailed from my clit all the way through my asscrack, making a strategic stopover to rim my bumhole. The barrage of emotions overwhelmed me, so much so that I didn't realise he was smearing something there—something cold that smelled very sweet.

He tucked one finger, then two, reaming my back passage. I was whimpering like crazy, maybe even squeaking a bit, slamming my ass back onto his hand-fangs when he suddenly went motionless. Kneeling behind me, he grabbed a fistful of hair and jacked me up. His diamond-grade hardness parked itself between my cunt folds, leisurely sliding back and forth as he opened my mouth with the back of his now free hand. Another hint of sweetness. He asked me to stick out my tongue and when I did, he popped his sticky fingers into my mouth. I was already salivating when I made out what it was: peach jam.

“Fuck.” 

“Yes, little minx, you can say that again. Fuck”. He daubed some more jam on my face, neck, and tits, pinching my achingly hard nipples for good measure. His glans pressed against my rear door as his hand lowered my back. Then slowly but firmly, he stretched my ass.

It had been a long time since my one and only (and to be honest, not that pleasant) anal encounter. The jam was helpful, but he was too thick, so it still hurt like a bitch. My unconscious response was to shrink away; frankly, it felt like he was ripping me apart. I knew it would get better, but then and there, the rational part of me was silently screaming, 'Get the hell out!'  

My outer ring was on fire, but once he was halfway in and set to pounding, the pain turned into something more than just tolerable. That fiery sting coalesced with a dazing effect and rendered me sweltering in luscious buggery. I didn't want that feeling to end.

A flash of revelation hit me. This was the exact moment where I consciously understood I could enjoy sex-infused pain.

“Push me out!”

What? No! My cheeks hugged him tight. “Ohhh… but I like you in!” I sincerely did.

The hail of thwacks broke out of nowhere, yet landed every-butt-where. “Do as I fucking say, and you'll have me ALL in your bratty ass!”

He snagged my hand, which was clinging to the cushion as if my life depended on it, and, reaching down to my cunt, he guided and used it to frig my clit while he continued plunging beyond the howling point. He was right, as it happens. My pushing him out smoothed his passage to the depths of my yearning hole.

The walls of my ass yielded to the demanding throbs of his cock, expanding even wider, and I squeezed as hard as I could. I was raring to feel him spurting inside me, but he had other ideas. He laid me on my back, straddled me as if I were a wild mare (which, admittedly, I was) and went full Jackson Pollock on my face and tits. Much like a horny teenager, he swayed his hips, fapping like crazy and emblazoning me with the warmest of gifts.

I'd never seen the actual blowout in close-up. It was epic. His release rained on me thick as white chocolate pudding, then melted down upon touching the smouldering surface of my skin, gathering like droplets of liquid mercury. It was a filthy mess! A delicious filthy fucking mess that I, of course, took my time to clear up gleefully.

My taste buds remembered his flavour and I craved it, shovelling every trace of milky slop and feasting on it like a famished cub.

He looked at me, sated; then he pulled me up and, although his cum was still on my face, kissed me without flinching!

~.~

This time we showered together. It was bordering on romantic, which was confusing since he had been drilling my ass as if it were a newfound oil well not long ago. I washed him; he washed me, even my long hair (I have to say, it was cute). Last, cuddling me from behind, he lathered up my nipples purposefully, sending me over the edge again. 

“I love making you cum. You're such a beautiful, insatiable slut.” And right there was the undeniable truth.

We dried each other and I went to the living room to dress, but he cut in. “Where do you think you're going? You are staying here until neither of us can move anymore. Okay, maybe after a quick recharge…”

It must have been around 3 a.m., so buses weren’t an option, plus he had made a compelling argument, so I agreed to stay. We went to his bed, and he fell asleep instantly, spooning (another first for me) with his hand clutching my boob. I dozed off but was soon woken by the dawn chorus: loud chirps, trills, and wing-fluttering motions.

The sky was clearing when I opened my eyes, so it was probably 6-7ish. It took me a minute to recognise my surroundings, but the widespread soreness served as a stark reminder. I turned to find him sleeping face up, and my lips curled into a naughty grin. He looked so inviting; curiosity and plain lust-driven hunger took over.

I slid off as stealthily as possible, moved to the foot of the bed, and crawled my way up with my tongue, charting a wet path along his left leg till his weary, resting cock blocked my path. I adored taking him into my mouth like that, feeling it grow and harden progressively. It was incredibly exciting, as well as empowering! 

Thrumming but still half out, he slowly opened his eyes, his cock fully awakened before he was. It's fascinating how authentic bodily reactions are to certain stimuli without the mind having a say, especially when it comes to sex. Bodies never lie, fake, or act in conformity to others.

To wake up with my mouth engulfing his cock put an exultant smile on his pretty face. I cannot describe my self-congratulation at his astonishment. He crossed his arms under his head and enjoyed his show. Oh, the look in his eyes—spellbound. 

I played with his head, edging my way around the pulpy corona, and following the crease leading to the tiny oozing eye. I don’t recall ever liking the taste much up to that day.

Full Teasing Mode on, I released his cock and licked my way up over his belly and chest. Relishing in the approving moans elicited by my gnawing at his nipples, I flirted up and down his neck, finally parting his lips to invade his mouth. 

I was lying to his side with one leg over his, my knee gently rubbing his balls and my snatch dribbling down our thighs. I made him slobber over my palm to ramp up the handjob and fed him one of my tits. “Bite me,” I implored. 

He cupped my tit with both hands, pushing it further into his mouth. He sucked and clenched his teeth on my nip until I came. That was the first time I’d ever done that, a demand right from the depths of my euphoric cunt. I hankered after more of that pain; same as with my ass, it was oddly pleasurable. But it wasn't just physical; I rejoiced—and rejuiced—in asking him to do it almost as much as in his compliance. 

I was still cumming when I crash-dived my cunt onto his cock. “Feel me,” I urged him, otherwise motionless while my orgasmic spasms mashed the fucker, my eyes glued to his.

His thumb traced that heady, imperfect “O” formed by my lips as if he were reading a rapturous exultation translated into racy Braille. He reached out with his other hand and lugged me down by my nape and sucked my mouth into his. The reading hand lunged for my ass, squeezing and pressing me tight. 

I was categorically impaled but refused to let go an inch of him, so I kind of twerked and swung my hips, grinding onto him slowly but intently. His piston was well-nigh, prodding at the pit of my stomach.

He tugged on my hair with both hands and mopped my sweat-beaded face with his tongue; then he hurried down, nibbling my neck, heading for my tits. Hell-bent, he planted his feet on the mattress, readying himself to shaft the living shit out of me, but I would not have it. This was my moment.

Something came over me; I straightened up and humped him as if possessed. I remember feeling distinctively different. My hands were on his chest, my nails digging into him, getting off for the umpteenth time. I slackened off. When my body had finally calmed down, I disengaged and sought for his cum-drenched cock to reclaim all that molten pleasure. I licked his balls squeaky clean, too, and my tongue, of its own accord, ventured even further.

It was awe-inspiring: his squinting face, the way his stomach contracted as my succulent tongue orbited his star, probing timidly, then darting hither and thither. A few sweeps over the taint had him crunching in a hollow hold, sustained as I sucked each nut into my mouth in turns. I was elated. He kept gasping, “Yes, yes, go on, fuck yes!”

I knew it was an involuntary physical reaction, but even so, it was because of me. I was causing that satisfaction! Have you ever had that sort of epiphany? There is nothing comparable. It’s intoxicating.

He was groaning and panting hard when the hand clinching my head between his thighs shunted me away. Getting to his feet, he rolled me over and cuffed my ankles against his shoulders. He moored his cock along my slick crevice, pushing my legs straight toward my head. “Fuck, how flexible are you?” Then he thrust so deep into my overspilling pussy, I promise I thought it was going to come out of my mouth. 

He was out of himself, lost in a frenzy, and most likely he didn't appreciate how astonishingly fast and hard he was hammering into my cunt. I am fairly certain that was the longest and strongest orgasm I've ever had. And he felt it too. 

“Seems your pussy is still hungry; it's trying to chew my cock off!” He settled the full weight of his body on me, cleaving through my legs and, while I didn't think it possible, he rammed even faster. My pussy was smashed, but madly lust-struck, I couldn't have cared any less.

His hands were pinning mine above my head and, all of a sudden, he stalled! 

What on Earth? I stared at him with bloodshot eyes and strained to move my hips but to no avail. He looked at me, nipping at my lips, tormenting me. I hated his guts. 

Still striving to catch his breath, he pleaded, “I want to cum inside you.” 

I was so not expecting that, but I begged, “Yesss, please!”

Still buried to the hilt, he kissed me without moving an inch and just let himself go. His body an inert plank, every single muscle tightened like those of an elite gymnast. It was different, intimate, and quiet for once. Needless to say, that made me cum with him right on cue. I clung to my climax as to life itself.

I felt every pulse, every glorious jet of spunk splashing against my puffy walls. Only when we were both done did he break the kiss, and we looked at each other with teary eyes.

Have you ever had an orgasm so intense and overwhelming that it made you cry? This was perfect. This was sex! I fell hopelessly in luvst with it; not with him, with SEX. Such a potent rush!

He collapsed onto me and I koala-hugged him. We stayed like that awhile, recovering. Then, when I thought it was over, he went down on me. 

What the-? There was no chance he wouldn't end up eating his cum along with mine. I tried to stop him, but when he touched my labia, I was completely undone. 

His tongue swiped along every crease, then he sucked my clit once more into his mouth and lashed at it with an iron tongue till he had me cumming again. 

I’m not sure how many fingers he had smuggled into my pussy, but he kept plundering through my peak until he made me squirt for the first time in my life—I could not believe my eyes (and neither could he). 

He clasped his mouth between my thighs, waiting for my legs to cease trembling, although his relentless tongue did not make it easy. When my cuntquake subsided, he withdrew and a gloopy stream flowed down his arm—what a sight! Like a digital retractor, his fingers pried my lips open, and the scent and taste of my fulfillment invaded my senses. I pounced to lick them, but that was not enough for him. The bastard pressed down my jaw to make me open wider and leant over me, pouring the thick mix he had slurped seconds ago right into my mouth. 

He pushed my jaw up and swabbed my closed lips, cleaning the remaining mess around my mouth, and told me to let it linger in my mouth so I could savour it. Savour us.

Then, he wrapped his hands around my throat and whispered, “Now, swallow.”

I wouldn't have ever considered or even imagined doing any of this before that morning; it was all so nasty, and I loved it to bits!

We fell asleep again after that, briefly in my case. I got up and took another, much-needed shower, regretting every drop that rinsed the lustful scent from my skin. Flashbacks of the previous night and early morning were overrunning my mind.

He was still sleeping when I returned to his room. Sadly, I needed to go to work, so I had to wake him. He fought to pull me to him, but I really had to leave.

Brushing my hair away from my face, he asked if I was okay. Too forthright, perhaps, but I said I had never been sorer, hungrier, or more ecstatic, for which I was exceedingly grateful. And looking back, I can tell you something else. I was also über-mindful of my sexuality. I'd learnt a bunch. It would be fair to say I had discovered myself in sex with and through this man. So I thanked him, kissed him again, and left.

There wasn't a fraction of my body he hadn't roughed up. More than that, the whole affair had thrown me for a loop. I was knackered, but nothing would wipe the beaming smile I had tattooed on my face all day.

The same face-splitting smile I'm sporting right now as I revive these cunt-warming memories.