I was overcome with happiness. Overcome with lust. Overcome with passion.
He was good, that was all that mattered to me. Looks, he didn’t sport the clean-shaven baby face I was so used to seeing with boys my age. Then again, he wasn’t a boy my age. He was a man, therefore, more manly. His shoulders were bigger. Broader. His jawline was stronger, more defined. His body was more muscular and powerful than any of the others.
Credit where it’s due, he was exceptionally skillful with his tongue. I’m not sure why I thought a man of his character would be somewhat resistant to my request of this oral technique. I couldn’t focus on much. I closed my eyes and embraced it. I was open to him exploring every millimeter of wetness between my legs. I was lost. So lost in the moment, I couldn’t think. I didn’t need to think, more importantly, he didn’t want me to think. He wanted me to feel. He wanted me to feel so full of lust, I would beg him for more.
The repetitive swirlingly motions of his tongue took me to another place. A place I had not seen with any of the previous boys. He wanted my full attention on feeling exactly where he put his tongue.
He was not only different in looks but also with his passion and motivation. He wanted my orgasm more than I did. I could feel it. I could feel it by the way his mouth moved so slowly as it caressed my clit then lowered, ensuring his tongue was deep enough so that no part of me was left untouched.
I was reborn into reality as I hit orgasm. Reaching out to the sides of the dining table, I whimpered in pleasure. I felt his hands tighten against my thighs as he pulled me closer and into his face. He kept licking and sucking. Occasionally, I would feel his tongue enter inside me and that was what initiated this orgasm. His tongue pressed deeper inside me, his nose brushed my clit as I hit the pinnacle of my orgasm.
“Fuck” I screamed as I wriggled on the table in front of him. He loosened his grip on my thighs and watched me from between my legs.
He pushed his chair back as he stood up. Gently wiped his mouth then looked down at me and grinned. He was so fucking sexy.
Naughty, but so fucking sexy. His eyes could melt my heart in a second. He was my baby, regardless of how big he was.
My heart was racing and I was still gasping for breath. I began to close my eyes, focusing on how amazing and happy I felt. I was overcome with pleasure, I was overjoyed, I didn’t know how to feel. I wanted to laugh, I wanted to cry, I wanted to embrace him and never let go. I needed time to collect myself. Put my emotions in order. I exhaled deeply.
“Oh no baby girl, don’t think you get to rest” his tone was serious, he walked away shirtless to the sink before turning to look over his shoulder.
His body was unreal. The definition of his back made me bite my lip. He was so muscular, but not how you may think. He wasn’t overly muscular, he was just extremely well defined. He was so toned, everything looked just perfect on him.
An example was, that he had small delicate wrists but his forearms and biceps….were thick.
Ha, Oh. He was thick all over. I could not wish for anything different.
I opened my eyes and sat up a little, remaining on the table I frowned at him. He sipped from a glass of water as his eyes moved down and over my body. He looked so serious but he was just watching me. Perhaps, admiring me?
“What?” I stutter. I was still somewhat exhausted. Speech was a difficult task.
He was silent and then let out a sigh. I began to feel a little nervous.
“I mean” his voice softened as he placed the glass aside then walked back towards me. A smirk crept upon his face as he moved the chair, wrapped my legs around his waist and laid me back on the table. He was inches from my face, our eyes locked onto each other.
“I’m not finished with you yet, baby” He whispered.