Page 23 of Chemistry: The Chemist

The long legs I’d anticipated around my neck sat on my shoulders momentarily as I slid lower, not stopping until my knees were on the floor of the truck. Carpet brushed the fabric of my jeans as I was welcomed into Eden’s world by the distinctive smell of her arousal.

Panties hadn’t been part of her attire. She’d come to give her pussy up. Give it up to me. She knew she’d be sliding down my dick before she stepped off stage. There was nothing sexier than a woman with her mind made up.

I stroked her flesh with my tongue, instantly obsessing over the bittersweet blend. Her juice awakened something devilish within me. Something sacred. Something terrifying. Something special.

A current made the hair on my body stand. There was a shift within me. Of me. Through me. Externally.

Fuck.

Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually.

What she was doing to me, I wasn’t sure. But, I knew exactly what I was going to do to her.

First, I familiarized myself with her folds, licking from the tip of her pussy just beyond her hood to her slit. Migrating further, I explored her backside, finding pleasure in making her body quake.

Once.

Twice.

Three times, I repeated the same movements slowly. Gently. Patiently. Blindly getting acclimated with her garden as I determined the best way to activate her sprinkler system.

“My God!”

Don’t mention another nigga in my presence, Choc. My demand was lost in translation. I was too invested in her pleasure to address the shit that grinded my gears.

Her clit was my next mission. Though I had intentions of prolonging her orgasm, I wanted her back on the ledge. Back in her comfort zone. Ready, but unable to jump because I wouldn’t let her.

“Puh!” I wet her slit, though there was hardly a need.

“Ummmm.”

I slid two fingers deep within her, turning them upward and curling them.

“Pleeeeeaasse.”

Her ass bounced off the seat, searching for the warmth of my mouth. The pressure from my tongue.

Stripping her of her misery, I circled the external portion of her clit while massaging the internal portion. She lost the strength to hold herself up. Her body flopped down. Her head moved from one side to the other. Her eyes fluttered, closing more often than they opened.

“Missssssster.”

They’d been activated. That fucking sprinkler. Unfortunately, I wasn’t ready to water her garden. I pulled back, halting the orgasm that was quickly approaching. Eden’s chest rose and fell dramatically as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Please!” she begged, barely above a whisper, but forcefully.

She made it painfully clear her pussy had been mishandled. I made a mental note to dead every nigga who had wasted her fucking time before me. If life had allowed them time with her until my appearance, the least they could’ve done was fuck her well.

Manage her needs. See to it her desires were met. Treat her pussy good. Real fucking good. They’d missed the fucking mark and in under six minutes, I’d hit motherfucker.

Fucking waste. I grunted.

She’d been deprived enough. I wouldn’t make her suffer any longer. I couldn’t. Before the night was out, I’d make up for all the times she wanted to cum and couldn’t.

Her pussy was my priority now. Her pussy was my responsibility now. When she wanted to cum, she would.

I dug into her, again. This time, massaging her insides with more pressure. I caressed her clit with my tongue, stroking it rapidly until her ass was off the seat and those legs were around my neck.

“Uh, fuck! Please. Please. Don’t stop.”

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