Sometimes I let them fuck me, too.
When we had sex alone, Peter liked to call me ‘Aunty' Rose and I had no complaints as it definitely seemed to make him even hornier.
When we’d started out, he knew nothing. I’d had to teach him everything about sex and women. Not that I’m complaining - it continued to be a fun journey for both of us. I’d never dated a younger guy before but I’d found that it certainly had it benefits – for one, he was so grateful to be allowed anywhere near me.
“Right there,” I said, as he swept his tongue almost shyly over my clitoris. I groaned approval as he applied perfect pressure and licked me exactly how I needed to be licked. It had taken months of training to get him to do that so perfectly.
My back arched and I felt thick, strong fingers digging into the flesh of my hips, holding me in place as his tongue worked its magic. He was intent on making me come since he knew that I wouldn’t even touch his cock until I had at least one orgasm in the bank.
My orgasm fired in a sweet peak of ecstasy quickly followed by a rush of involuntary convulsions. It was good, as it always was when Peter licked me but the intensity was that little bit higher as I thought about what I had planned for him and my ass.
Peter was still down between my legs, grinning, thinking that his work was done and it was time to reap his reward. “Lick me,” I hissed, my fingers moving into the chocolaty strands of his hair, tugging meaningfully. The grin faded and his tongue ran wickedly over my outer labia and dug inside my slippery groove. It felt good, but I had other plans for that tongue.
Gritting my teeth, I applied pressure to the top of Peter’s head, guiding him further down. His tongue raked along my slit, and dug into the mouth of my vagina. I squealed at the delicious sensation.
He was so eager, so willing to please me.
There was a sudden burst of pressure and fullness as his tongue penetrated me. I wanted to let him work my pussy, to feel the soft lips sucking, his mouth opening and closing hungrily as he tasted me. But I had plans, anal plans. With a sigh of regret, I pushed down again.
Peter’s tongue paused. It dragged limply, confused as I guided him further down than he’d ever been.
Then it touched my anus.
Peter realised my intentions immediately, realised what I was expecting of him, what I was demanding and his tongue curled up against the wrinkled skin of my bumhole. It tickled and my body squirmed away from the unfamiliar sensation. Peter followed, his tongue lapping, working enthusiastically into my asshole.
I felt naughty, somewhat bitchy at the dirty thing I was making my lover do to me – but Peter seemed to be enjoying it. I was losing control: laughing and squealing protest, wincing at how ticklish I was back there but also gasping at the pleasure of it. So good; so fucking good to have a tongue back there.
“Put your finger in,” I said, adding a little steel to my voice. I felt the hard digit move up, a sharp contrast from the soft wetness of his tongue; felt the slickness of his saliva; felt the pressure and then the penetration. I moaned loudly, it was so satisfying to feel his finger worming into my arse. Peter was moaning too – this was something entirely new for him, something he had surely seen in pornos but had never imagined actually being allowed to do.