We came together again. We were kissing each other hot and heavily. He ripped off my dress and I was kicking off my shoes. He had me completely naked and I laid flat on the counter-top. He opened my legs wide and used his hands to expose me completely. His tongue grazed my button and I squirmed. He chuckled slightly and then dived in. When I thrashed in pleasure, he locked me down with his arms. He was going to make sure that I took it all. My body was blazing. His tongue was curling within my folds. I would gush against him but he didn't relent. He had a goal, or some sort of mission. I was begging him to enter me, but he refused. Instead, he would dive deeper, suck harder, and then recycle my own nectar against me. I could hear myself leaking out and I was amazed he wasn't drowning.
"Flip over," he demanded and my body wobbled over to him. I was so weak now. When I began to move, I saw that I left this huge wet spot on his counter. He didn't even seem to mind. He just stood up, placed his hand on my back, and started to kiss down my back side. His tongue entered familiar territory, but then it lapped its way up to a new home. I giggled at first but then I was pulsating. My sex was throbbing. I reached my hand through my legs and inserted a finger inside. I was wet ten times over and my walls were warm and waiting. He snatched my finger out, sucked it clean, and placed it on the table. He placed his tongue inside me. The sound of him slurping, my nectar falling out me, and what I'm guessing is ten years of sexual tension, led me to one of the biggest orgasms I've ever had.
"Oh?" He was being cocky. When I turned to him, he was wiping my juices off of his face. Before I could say a word, he was carrying me over his shoulder. He opened the bedroom door and put me on his bed. I knelt and started to undress him. Ripping his shirt open, pulling his belt off, and bringing his pants to the ground, I was happy when he was nude, too. His hard tool was in my face. I licked it. It swayed to the left and when I kissed just the head, it moved toward the right. I rammed it inside my mouth, pushing it past my teeth, and as far back as it could go. He hissed and cocked his head back. He was enjoying himself immensely. I opened my mouth wider and relaxed my throat. I was gagging just a little bit and I pulled out and spit on the head.
"Do that again." I complied with his request. "Now stroke me up and down." I took my hand and started to do as he said, when he stopped me. "With both of your hands. And squeeze harder." My hands gripped with much more force and strength. I spit every other stroke just to make sure it was wet. Then without him telling me, I forced him down my throat. He pulled my face in deeper and held it there tightly. I tried to pull away but when he said, "Hold it right there."
I stayed and seconds later, he filled my mouth up. After I let his essence slide down my throat, he laid flat on the bed, and then placed me on his face.
His tongue is a miracle worker. I'm pretty sure it was made out of pixie dust or something because it was magical, the way it worked. There wasn't much time before I found myself riding his face. I grabbed onto the headboard for support. My hips were moving frantically, chasing the orgasm I was sure to have again. His hands were spanking me softly and I caved. The orgasm had me and his tongue had me captivated. It didn't slow up after I came either, it just went on, sending chills through me. I finally begged for him to stop. I slid off and before my back could hit the bed, my legs were already in the air. How is he already ready for me? I wondered in amazement at how lucky I was to have found someone as incredible as Blake.
Blake wrapped my thick thighs around his waist, but didn't insert himself into me yet, instead giving me a perfect view of his sculpted body. I could feel his rock hard cock throbbing against my slit, and I squirmed underneath him, eager for him to enter me. His hard-on was getting wet at the touch and when it brushed against my clit, I found myself scooting up.
"Stay put," he ordered me in a warm tone. "Don't act like you don't want this."
"I do," I reassured him.
"How do you want me to do it?" he asked.
"Any way you want."
"No. Tell me how you like it," he commanded, and I paused realizing he was serious.
No one had ever asked me how I liked to have sex. Every sexual encounter I'd ever had consisted of me opening my legs and hoping he knew where and how to touch me. There were some guys who got it right, but more often than not, I left not completely satisfied. There's nothing worse than almost having an orgasm. That's torturous. I imagined that it almost felt like winning a Nascar race and having your car give out on you. At least if you came in second place, you still finished the race...but to never finish?
Blake's eyes were still on me, searing my skin. I thought about it some more and finally answered him.
"I like long and deep strokes." I said with my eyes closed. "And then I like it when it's sped up."
"Look at me."
"What?" I opened my eyes.
"When you are telling me how you like to be pleasured, look at me. There's nothing to be ashamed about here."
"Okay...." I was about to close my eyes again through sheer instinct but those hypnotic emerald eyes had me. "I like it when it speeds up for a while and just when I'm about to cum, it slows down."
"What else?" He was crossing his arms with a smirk.
"Flip me on my stomach and enter me from the back...hard."
"Anything else?"
"Don't take it so easy on me, you'd be shocked at how much I can take. And always try to surprise me." I was looking down and he reached over held my chin up. He kissed my nose.