Page 53 of Due At The Same Time
My face flushed because I knew exactly what he was talking about.
If there was one thing Ambrose had been absolutely obsessed with, it was gripping me by the hips and diving between mythighs. The man ate pussy like it was the only way to go to the moon, like it was an algebra equation he had to solve.
The memory made my pussy felt uncomfortably swollen and heated, and I squeezed my wet thighs together, but it gave me no relief.
“Fine,” I said. “But it doesn’t mean anything.”
With one swift moment, he moved over me on the couch.
“It meanseverythingto me,” he replied, and with a dizzyingly familiar movement, he put both hands on the band of my yoga pants and slid them down.
“Delectable.”
He bit his lip and I didn’t dare to look down past my belly because I could feel how wet my panties were, how they must be sticking to my pussy and outlining my swollen lips.
I was already crawling the walls when he bent down past my huge bump and I couldn’t see him. But I could feel him— carefully, peeling down my panties and then gently opening my wet pussy lips so he could see my clit.
My hips were moving on their own volition, already beginning to grind down on the contact, wanting more of it.
“Let me take my time,” Ambrose begged, but I was afraid of what would happen if I agreed.
“No,” I said, my hands digging into the couch cushions. “I don’t need you getting all sentimental over my pussy. Just make me come.”
“All right,” he said, and I heard the couch creak as he lay on his belly, squashing his long body into the foot of the couch. I was panting at the feel of his breath on my thighs, then he wrapped his arms around my hips and jammed my pussy against his face.
Fucking hell, I almost levitated at the dirty wet sounds his mouth was making as he licked up all my slick arousal, plunging his tongue inside me, then circling my clit.
My breasts had been getting larger, heavier this week too, filling with milk and making me ache with how swollen and engorged they were and when he carefully brushed a thumb by my stiff nipples I moaned at the agonizingly pleasurable contact.
“Take me back,” Ambrose said from between my thighs. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“Silence, laborer!” I said. “Focus on your job and not your feelings.”
“I can do it better,” he rumbled against my clit, as my fingers clutched desperately at the cushions, slick sweat dripping down my breasts. “I know you better, I can make you comeharder.”
“Nonsense,” I breathed, but I closed my eyes tight to avoid looking down, knowing there was an orgasm building inside me.
He scoffed into my pussy, which was still unfortunately a very hot rumble of sensation. “I can prove it,” he said, and I felt a finger drag down my pussy, under my body, and begin to circle my asshole.
“You’re a fucking freak,” I said, focusing on keeping my voice steady and calm.
“Only with you,” he said. “Only with you have I ever fucking let that out.”
His finger teased around the rim of my asshole and I wiggled with anticipation, feeling my chest bead with excitement.
“Depravity,” I said.
“Does that mean stop?” Ambrose asked, pausing.
“No,” I groaned. “Damnyou, Ambrose. Do it.”
Goddamn this man. The way he knew exactly how I liked it, the perfect amount of pressure on my clit, the delicious sting of feeling his finger in my ass pressing through that tight outer ring.
I exploded with a loud groan, my belly tightening as my orgasm rocked me and Ambrose licking and sucking me through it as he always had, that wicked finger up my ass stretchingmy pleasure longer, an achingly screaming long release that cramped my calves and sent wet pulses of arousal all down his face.
The utter bliss of his full-body pleasure, the upside of his tightly-wound repressed passion.
As I recovered, I waited to see if he’d ask for anything else. But he didn’t, just stood up as I lay in a jelly-like state on the couch.
