Page 13 of There is No Devil

She finally raises her head to look at me.

I ask her, “How did you do that so long?”

She shrugs. “I like it. It feels good.”

“I know it feels good,” I say. “Forme. Doesn’t your jaw get sore?”

“Sometimes,” she says. “But I just switch the angle or depth. The longer I do it, the more sensitive my lips and tongue and throat become. The better it feels, the longer I can do it.”

I’m struggling to understand what she means.

“You’re saying … the better it feelsfor you.”

“Yeah,” Mara says, squinting at me like this is obvious.

It’s not obvious, and I must look confused, because she frowns and says, “Doesn’t it feel good foryouwhen you touch me?”

“It does …” I pause, trying to articulate something I’ve never consciously considered. “What I’m enjoying is the effect on you. The way it puts you under my control. If I can make you feel pleasure, I can get you to do anything I want. When I’m getting what I want, I can eat your pussy for hours.”

“So when you suck my tits, you’re doing it for me, because it drives me insane. Not because it makes your tongue feel good,” Mara says.

“That’s right.”

We’re looking at each other like we just discovered one of us has been speaking Spanish and the other Portuguese.

Slowly, Mara climbs up onto my lap, straddling me on the chaise. She pulls her linen dress overhead, letting it drop on the floor behind her. Underneath, she wears only a skimpy lace thong, no bra.

Her bare breasts sit directly in front of my face, small, round, soft, and ripe.

Her tight little nipples poke out, brown as her freckles, pierced through with silver rings.

Cupping the base of my skull in her palm, Mara draws my head toward her breast.

“Close your mouth around my nipple,” she says.

Flushed from that long orgasm, I don’t think or plan. I only obey.

“Suck on my tits,” Mara says. “Soft. Slow. Feel what they feel like in your mouth, against your tongue.”

My mouth latches onto her breast, taking the whole nipple in my mouth. Its stiff pebbled tip lies firmly against my tongue. The round swell of her breast presses pleasantly against my lips. Her skin smells of the intoxicating perfume Mara chose at the store, selecting the one that incited me the most without me ever saying a word.

I suckle on her breast, trying to shut off my impulse to look up at her face to gauge how effective I am. I close my eyes, focusing on my own sensations. Letting the soft sounds of her moans, and the tightness of her waist between my hands, guide me.

Her nipple swells in my mouth, warming and softening against my tongue. The silver ring remains cool and unchanging, ice that can never melt.

Slowly I increase the pressure, not because I can feel that it causes Mara to grind harder on my stiffening cock, but purely for the satisfaction of sucking harder.

Mara pushes herself up, then lowers down on my cock, her lace thong pulled to the side. Her pussy is drenched, so wet that I feel it on my thighs. She’s so close to climax that she’s already riding me hard, starting at a gallop.

I release her breast and seize the other in my mouth, sucking hard, ravaging it, trying to fit as much as possible in my mouth. The silver ring like the tine of a fork, or the lip of a glass: serving her nipple to me.

The sensation satisfies like eating, like drinking. I’m devouring her. Gulping her down.

Mara starts to cum. She’s clutching the back of my head, pushing my mouth harder against her breast, slamming her pussy down on my cock.

I swallow her breasts. When I’m full to the brim, I explode inside of her.

* * *

---