I nod against him and we become a flurry of yanked off clothes and tripping limbs, still reaching out to touch and caress as we tumble over onto the unforgiving tile floor, in my kitchen, right by my door.
We’re both going to end this night with some bruises.
He’s on his knees digging into his wallet when I push him over so he’s flat on his back and suck his cock into my mouth.
He lets out a brief shout in shock, his mouth open, his head thrown back. And then he digs a hand into my hair and grips it, hard, the way I like to be handled, and gives a firm thrust into my mouth. He only does that a few times before he tells me to flip around.
I rotate, but before I’m fully turned, he’s grabbing me, wrapping his arms around my hips, lifting me up and moving me where he wants me. He smacks a hand on my ass, then draws me down to his mouth.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, my face pressed against the short, wiry hairs on his upper thigh.
His tongue, wet and warm, swirls around my clit while a finger finds my core and slips inside, the friction causing my brain to short circuit.
My hips swivel, trying to find a good groove against his mouth, where his tongue, moving at the perfect pace, is lapping at me, stroking me.
When I realize I’m accepting but not giving, I take a second to look at his shaft. Long, thick, with that vein that throbs and begs for attention. I stroke it twice with the tip of my tongue, then suck lightly on the head.
I let my spit dribble down to coat him and grip the base with my hand, stroking the part of him that I can’t fit in my mouth.
He moans against me and the vibration feels so damn good.
I wrap my lips around him and push down, repeating the action, the head of his dick bumping against the back of my throat over and over again.
I’m not a huge blowjob giver. I don’tneverdo it. But I usually only do it when I’m in a certain mood. Or I’m a little drunk. I love doing it when I’m tipsy.
I can’t remember the last time I felt turned on by the idea of going down on a guy. And yet, that’s all I can think right now. I want his dick in my mouth.I love it.In this moment, it is the only thing I can think about doing to try and make him feel a fraction of the pleasure zipping around inside me.
I open my throat and press him further in. I gag just slightly, but push on, and I can feel him gripping my skin with his hands, his fingernails biting in for that tiny bit of pain that makes pleasure feel so, so good.
“I’m… shit.”
I pull back and he comes, crying out and shooting hard against my hand as I stroke him through it, pump after pump.
When he finishes, I climb off him, rotating around to look at where he lies on my kitchen floor, seemingly unable to move.
His eyes are closed and his chest is heaving like he’s just finished dozens of laps in a pool. When he finally does look at me, his honey brown eyes look hazy, unfocused, blissed out.
“You okay?”
He closes his eyes again and rests his palms on his chest. “I don’t know what the hell you just did, but fuck if we aren’t gonna be doing that again.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
He pushes a hand up into my hair and holds me at my ear, his thumb stroking the softness under my jaw and sending delicious ripples and chills down my arms.
“That was amazing,” he says, then tugs me down for a kiss. I lose myself in that kiss, in the stroke of his tongue against mine and the feel of his fingers sifting through my hair. I feel like I could float away.
But before my feet can leave the ground, he pulls away. “And now it’s your turn.”
And thenhe’spushingmeover on a shriek.
I’m sprawled out on the tile, completely naked, and he pushes my legs wide and dives in. His whole mouth covers me, sucks me, makes me moan.
The slit between my legs is slick and he tells me I taste so good and I roll my hips to grind against his face.
He brings a hand up and pushes two fingers in, stroking that part inside me that I can never seem to reach because my arms aren’t long enough to get the right angle. After a few thrusts, he twists his wrist, seeking that sensitive spot and finding it with an expertise that’s startling.
I must make some sort of noise, because he smirks and then focuses in on that spot. Just rubbing it and rubbing it.