Rayna launches at me, kissing me with wild abandon, apparently contending with my hand and mouth for her essence. She moans deep into the back of my throat as she throws her pelvis into mine, confirming her extended desires.
She snorts sans the usually accompanied smile. “You in my mouth,” she whispers then nudges me backwards until the back of my legs touch the bench in the vanity section of the bathroom. I watch as she, this time, successfully unbuckles my belt, opens my pants, and allows them to drop to the floor. She moves quickly, dousing my boxers, and before I know it, she’s moaning at the sight of my throbbing strongman suspended in the air and moist at the tip.
I’m ready for her. Rayna doesn’t waste any time flickering her stiff tongue on the tip of my cock to lap up my fluids. She rolls it over the head, around and around, increasing speed each time. Goddamn! Then her wet tongue trolls the length of me. Rayna angles her head and licks me horizontally. My head falls against the wall in tantalizing expectation. She returns to the tip and applies soft scrapes, taking me in deeper each time she does it. When she gets midway, Rayna pulls back, softy scraping me until she makes it to the apex, sucks then plops me out, making the popping sound. That’s new and I like it. My wife the G. Too much of it and I’m prepared to explode.
But then Rayna attempts to take all of me into her mouth. I can feel her tongue flattening and then her throat starts to expand. She pulls up and then when she descends again, her neck snaps back, she retches, and makes a bee-line to the toilet.
What the fuck!
“Rayna, you okay?”
“Gooooob!” That was the first upheaval, there are three more to follow as Rayna upchucks the contents of her stomach. I can’t believe she’s vomiting. She never gags!
I go to grab a cloth to wet it. When I place it on her neck she screams, “Get out, Azmir!” Then hurls again.
“Rayna,” I call out to her. How can she ask me to leave her in this condition?
“Go!” she yells again hurriedly this time, anticipating another round of vomit.
Out of nowhere, Azna barks, alerting me of his alarm because of Rayna’s excitement. I’m out numbered and decide to leave the room, feeling as useless as Azna did earlier.
I don’t go far. I find shorts and a T-shirt to throw on and grab my phones. As I walk out to the bedroom, I keep one ear to the bathroom vicinity to listen out for her. Initially, I hear nothing. I check my email and even return a few in an attempt to keep from going back in there to check up on her.
I’m well beyond mystified by what just happened. I’ve had several gaggers in my day, but that’s usually during the first few encounters. Rayna is precisely acquainted with my girth and has always accommodated my length. This is some bizarre shit. I can’t conceive hurting her.
“Psssssssst…” I hear from a short distance.
She’s standing in the doorframe of the bathroom, water running from her dripping curly mane, to her caramel shoulders, and down her toned thighs. My cock stands at attention, awakened from its repose state and painfully growing by the second. I bite my lip.
“I’m almost done,” she utters seductively. “You better hurry up if you want reciprocity.” Then Rayna swings around gracefully, returning into the bathroom.
I chuck my clothes in a nanosecond and I’m right on her heels. The bathroom is steamed, but I find my way to her glistening curves and can even observe her knowing smirk.
“You sure you’re ready?” I hope like hell she doesn’t take the out. I don’t want to force myself on her, but my body is in desperate need of a release and something deeper inside needs to connect to her essence. “Do you think you need a few more days to recover?”
Rayna turns to me with heavy eyes and brings her arms to my shoulders, melding her body into me. My cock twitches against her belly and I feel like a Neanderthal for the brewing need I have for this woman.
“I need you now,” she speaks into my mouth, her lips are soft and warm, her breath minty.
“But I’m hurting so bad,” I hear myself growl as I place my hands at the top of her mounds. “I don’t think I can take you with delicate hands.” I warn with sober eyes. My need exceeds the softness making love requires.
“You need to smash,” she accurately secerns.