Page 15 of Heavy Petting

I point to his cock, and he grins. He pats my head and steps closer, presenting me with it. I study it closely. Lick the tip. Lift its thick shaft and run my tongue along the underside. He has soup in the dimple at his tip but not coating his shaft. Strange.

I absently trace my fingers along the ridged veins on his balls, and Mahz-uhrr moans and lets his head fall back. It’s the kind of moan I was making when he pleasured me. He likes the way I’m touching him. I’m givinghimpleasure.

I stroke his big balls, cup them in both hands, and squeeze gently. Another bead of yummy soup swells into a big pearl at his tip right before my eyes, and I suck it into my mouth.

He makes it with his body? That’s…amazing.

I tug him closer by the cock and stroke the way he did yesterday. He moans again and feeds me another treat. I chew with a grin, and some of the juice drips down my chin. I lick it up, and once I’ve swallowed the reward he gave me, I wrap my mouth over the juicy slit in the bulbous knob at the end of his cock as best I can and suck with all my might.

I’m not prepared for his excitement. He stamps his foot, holds my head, and rocks back and forth, stretching my mouth until I squeal.

He quickly eases back, breathing hard while his cock drips a little soup on my face. He wipes it from my cheek and rubs it at the corners of my mouth, where he stretched me. The discomfort eases immediately, and I gaze up at him in wonder. Is there anything hecan’tdo?

I open my mouth again, and this time, he doesn’t try to push inside, but rather slides his tip against my tongue and lets me lick and suck at him. He soon wraps one of his big hands over my two and guides them into a fast, firm rubbing rhythm. He starts to thrust with the movement, but makes sure to keep enough space between us that he doesn’t ram his cock into my mouth. “Ohm-bah, Spraah,” he commands through gritted teeth. “Ohm-bahvar.”

The last time I was given a similar instruction, he expected me to open wide, so I do so now. I open my mouth as wide as I can.

“Umberree,” he breathes in a tone so appreciative, I’ll keep doing my very best to please him. “Foigin umberee, mo spraah.”

Thick, warm fluid pours from his cock into my mouth, and I swallow as fast as I can, grateful it comes in bursts, so I have a better chance to catch up during the ebb in his flow. I drink what I can, but there’s so much, it spills down my chin and breasts, drips to my thighs, and dribbles down to slick them in between. I cinch my legs together and smear it over my skin, and it feels oddly wonderful.

His wildly bountiful spurting tapers off, and I latch on to the tip of his cock with my mouth and milk his shaft to produce more for me to swallow. I’m so hungry for it, he’ll probably think me greedy, but I can hardly help myself.

He grunts and moans, and his cock strains in my hands. He pulses another creamy rope of fluid onto my tongue, and I let it roll around in my mouth before I gulp it down and go back for more.

I must have been dreaming earlier, because I understood every word he was saying, but Idorecognize a love energy. For him. From him. I feel excited and alive and strong and ready forsomething. I don’t know what it is, but I know it has to do with the beautiful monster standing over me. He gazes down withheated adoration, and I can’t help but blush. He has the biggest,goofiestsmile on his face, and I’m so happy. I have clearly delighted him.

“Je mo en du, Spraah. Je mo en du.” He brushes his thumb over my smile and strokes my face, before he drops his gaze to stare at my dripping tits and the way I’m sliding my legs together.

He guides me to lie back on the bed, and I’m pleased to find the skin on my back is no longer sore or even sensitive. It’s as if he’s healed my wounds completely.

My monster spreads my legs and looks at the mess I’ve smeared between them. His soup has left a shine on my skin, and even my curls have trapped some of the pearly droplets. I feel a bit silly for having enjoyed the feel of soup down there, and I try to close my legs to hide it from him, but he rumbles and shakes his head. “Nah.”

He pries my thighs apart and grunts. “Scurrah.” His command is firm, as is the pressure he uses to urge me to keep the position he wants before he slowly lifts his hands.

When I stay as he’s asked, he says, “En du, Spraah,” and gives me a treat.

I suck at the juicy fruit and chew it slowly as I watch him.

He drags his fingers through my sex. I’m wet and slippery again. Why does that happen so much around him?

He presses at me and dips his fingers just inside my entrance, stretching me in a different way than when he pushed things into my bottom. He probes deeper, and I push my head into the mattress with a gasp. It feels surprisingly nice — a whole new kind of wonderful.

I whimper when he slips his fingers from me, but I quiet when he sucks at them. He seems to like my taste as much as I enjoy his, and it’s hypnotizing to watch.

He runs his fingers through the streaks of his fluids on my chest, drags some downward, and watches my face as he pushes it inside me. My core lights up, and my sex ripples around his fingers. He smiles and leans in, sliding his fingertips in and out of me, faster and faster.

My head falls back as I pant. How can he make me feel so good?

He gathers more of his spill, and smears it over my pleasure bud, making it slippery and sensitive with tingles. He pushes more inside me, but not as deeply as I want it.

I buck my hips, but he draws his hand back. “Nah, Spraah,” he warns before probing at me in a way that makes me understand. I only have a shallow sex for him to play with.

A wave of helplessness crashes over me.

If he can’t reach the yearning ache I feel in my depths, he can’trelieveit.

I gaze up at him. Will the craving pass? My body thinks not. The more I look at his big handsomeeverything, the needier I get. He’s been so kind and given me more than I ever knew to want, yet still I wantmore.

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