Page 77 of Fruit
I settle back down and slip two fingers inside myself, stroking my clit with my thumb. I hum in pleasure, moving my hips.
“Come up here. Come up here, please,” he says, his voice laced with desperation. I can’t deny him.
I move up and straddle his face carefully. He strains up, opening his mouth against my pussy, running his tongue up. I moan, moving my hips, and he opens me up, running his tongue against me to where I’m the most sensitive and lingering there. The chain rattles as I press down, and he moans out a muffled sound.
I rock against him as he gives me everything he’s got. It’s desperate and wet, and I can feel the pleasure coalesce in my bones. I’m so ramped up it doesn’t take me long to get to the edge, and I ease off, straddling his chest. I ignore the noise he makes and push three fingers inside, fucking myself roughly.
“Do you wish they were yours?” I ask, panting.
“Yes.”
“That it was you fucking me? Inside me?”
“Iva.”
“Fuck. Do you know how good this feels?”
He pulls against the handcuffs again, but they hold. My other hand joins the first to stroke at the sensitive nub at the peak. I’m filled with the heat of my fingers and the look in his eyes, the way his arms strain, the corded muscle of them, the way his chest rises and falls with his want.
“Come here, come—”
I move up again, and he licks me up, setting a rhythm that has me moaning.
The pleasure tightens and coils until it springs apart. I come with his wet lips against me, the buzz of his moan going right through me, filling me up.
I move down again when it becomes too much and lean down to kiss him. He laps at my mouth, and I meet his want with my own, still burning inside despite the orgasm that still runs in shivers through me.
“Your turn,” I whisper, smiling down at him mischievously.
“Should I be worried?”
“No. But you can stop this at any time.”
I give him another kiss and grab a few things from my bedside table, burying them out of sight in the duvet at the foot of the bed. I’ll reveal them when the time comes.
Sebastián’s cock is hard, leaking against his abs. He’s been more than good and deserves something in return. He should probably be eased into what I’m about to give him, too.
I straddle his knees and take his cock in my hand. I run my hand up and down it lightly. It must be torture after so much waiting, and he squirms against the bed. I press the palm of my other hand against the top of his sensitive head, against its sides, and his hips jolt as he cries out.
“Fuck. Shit,” he says, and his curses only have more impact due to how rarely he uses them.
I lean down, squeezing the base of his cock as I run my tongue where my hand had just been teasing him. My tongue feels along his slit, to the skin under his head, before my mouth closes there and I suck.
Sebastián makes a loud noise, his legs sliding across the sheets desperately as he tries not to thrust up. I open my mouth and move down him loosely, getting him wet but not giving him the stimulation he needs. It’s a testament to him that he doesn’t just buck his hips and take what he wants.
I get off him with a pop and he groans, but he doesn’t bother putting words to his protest.
“Mmm, you taste good,” I say, grinning. The look he gives me could quite possibly be classified as a glare and I laugh. “Don’t worry. I’m not close to done.”
I grab one of the items from my drawer and hold it up for him to see. It’s a bottle of lube, and he looks at it before his eyes meet mine. He doesn’t look nervous, but I wait until he catches on that I’m waiting for his permission and nods.
I grab one of the extra pillows and roll it into a thicker shape, putting it comfortably under his hips. I tip the bottle and pour some of the lube on two of my fingers, rubbing them warm as I put the bottle to the side. I look at him and press my slick fingers against his entrance. He twitches slightly, but I just rub at the sensitive skin there until his eyelashes are fluttering slightly, his hips moving seemingly without his permission to get more. I give it to him.
I slip my middle finger inside him. He’s hot and tight, swallowing the digit up. He makes a slight noise, but it’s not of discomfort. I slide the finger in and out slowly, massaging the furled skin around his entrance every once in a while. I keep my eyes on his face, making sure I’m not doing anything he doesn’t want, but his eyes are as heated and wanting as before.
I slip another finger in. I go slow, but it’s still a stretch. Sebastián breathes out slowly.
“Okay?” I ask. He nods straight away, and it calms any worries I might have had. Fingering itself would not be classified as kinky or anywhere near extreme by a lot of people, but the intensity of these experiences depends on the person’s experience. Having someone inside you—especially for straight guys, who are socialised to dislike the thought of this activity—can be incredibly intimate and easily tip intotoo much.
