Calico

“It’s not enough,” he whispers, dragging his teeth across his own lips. “I need more. I’m always going to need more.” He moves quickly, grabbing hold of me by the legs again, tugging me closer, and then he’s dipping down, dropping to his knees, hooking my thighs over his shoulders as he buries his tongue into my pussy.

I cry out, overwhelmed by the warmth of his mouth and the heat that zips from between my legs, all over my body, making my muscles flex and contract. Callan laves his tongue over me again and again, sending violent shockwaves through my body, so powerful and undeniable that I don’t even know how to react. My arms and legs work without my permission, my fingers winding through his hair, pulling his head into me in the most shameless way as my legs wrap around him, locking him into place.

The intensity of my response seems to fuel Callan. He takes hold of my hips and buries his tongue deeper, increasing the speed with which he licks and sucks at my clit. He used to love licking me when we were kids, but he seems to have taken a master class at some point. This level of expertise is something that he learned without me. I’d be sad over that fact, if only I weren’t so delirious in my pleasure. The world feels like it’s simply melting away. Callan grunts, his back arching as he shifts to get a better purchase on me. Two seconds later, he’s pushing one of his fingers inside me, continuing his savage assault on my clit, and I’m screaming, my own back curving so hard it feels like my spine is going to snap at any moment. Using his free hand, Callan presses his palm down against the flat of my lower stomach, massaging his finger inside me in a come here motion, and suddenly everything deepens, intensifies, grows almost unmanageable its force. I’ve never felt like this before. This is different. This is weird and amazing and strange all at once.

A bottomless, bizarre pressure begins to build between my legs. “Callan? Oh…Oh my god.” My legs tighten around his head. Callan glances up at me, half his face obscured. He stops what he’s doing with his mouth for a second and speaks breathlessly.

“Don’t worry, bluebird. Just relax. Let go. It’s normal.”

I don’t know how he knows what I’m feeling right now, but it feels far from normal. “I feel like I’m gonna—”

“You’re not gonna pee, I promise you. I’m just gonna make you come properly. You can only do it if you relax, though. You gotta trust me.”

Embarrassment flutters around on the edges of my subconscious, but then Callan purposefully draws the tip of his tongue slowly up and over my clit, giving me the most wicked grin as he does so, and I can’t recognize one emotion from another. It’s almost as if I’m feeling everything in color. The room turns an odd shade of red, tinged with purple as that same, odd sensation building again.

“Oh shit. Fuck, Callan. I don’t think…I can’t stop…” And I can’t. I can’t hold back the surge of power that rips through me like electricity. My breath feels like it’s being sucked from my lungs as I scream silently. I can hear Callan swearing somewhere, can feel his fingers still inside me, can feel him fucking me with them as I writhe and thrash about on the kitchen table.

“Shit. Shit!” I’m lost in a void. My ears are packed with cotton wool, muffled, while a distant ringing sounds somewhere off in another room. My lips are tingling, prickling almost, as my nerve endings fire and snap ruthlessly all over my body. Eventually my hearing begins to clear.

When I open my eyes, Callan’s softly placing kisses against the insides of my thighs. He looks incredibly pleased with himself, and I’m feeling awkwardly wet. I try and clamp my legs together, but Callan pushes them apart again. “Don’t you dare,” he growls. “This is mine.”

Slowly he licks at me, tracing his tongue over my pussy and over the insides of my legs, gently nipping at my skin, making my body jump and twitch. “Is that…normal?” I whisper. My throat feels raw, like I’ve been screaming for hours. Callan sends me a secretive glance up the length of my body. He nods his head.

“Only if you’ve had a really good time,” he says. “I’m hoping you did.”

“My face feels numb. I don’t think I can move.”

“Awesome.” He grins as he straightens up, fixing me in a penetrating gaze. “Remember what I said, Coralie. I told you I was going to feel your pussy tighten around my dick now. This is where we find out if you can handle me. Are you ready?”

I don’t think my body is equipped to take another orgasm like that, but I must be a glutton for punishment. I find myself nodding. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Callan unbuttons his jeans and kicks out of them, revealing a pair of black boxer briefs underneath. They’re tight enough that I don’t need to use my imagination to figure out what’s going on beneath the taut fabric. “Do you want to suck me, Coralie?” he asks. He squeezes his cock again, shivering slightly as he touches himself.