Listening Notes:
Feelin’ Love by Paula Cole
Reading Notes:
This is part 2 of a probably multi-part story (it kinda has to be now).
This was rewritten on the basis of feedback that an arm is not made of spaghetti. Fair point.
The story
So, in a few moments it becomes clear; she may not have known she needed it, but when your tongue begins to squelch and flit between her perfectly soft labia, it becomes fairly clear that she’s decided she needs it now. You reach up and take her other hand; squeezing it gently as if to say “Don’t worry. I’m here until you don’t need me anymore.” Whether she gets the message or not, she begins to relax and fall into the now exciting routine.
And you are excited, man. You’ve taken control of her and here she is, rubbing her little clit at your behest, thrilling to the heat of your breath and the determination of your methodically probing tongue. You’re no pornstar, lad, but right now you’re all she can feel. You’re alive. You have to stop yourself from laughing to yourself and you pull back slightly to get a better view of that beautiful, quickly slickening pussy.
As you had hoped, the coffee taste is gone now; the glycerine smoothness of her perfectly clear wetness is in your mouth and across your tongue, and up your nose. She changes her position slightly, lifting her ass a little from the bed; you’re not going there yet. You grip her hips and replace the thrusts of your tongue with movements from deep in your core; you need your neck to put in the hard yards. She releases her fingers from her clit and tries to slip her hand between you and your goal; those digits are about to go inside her and you have a ringside seat.
You pull back your head and kiss her hand as she twists her wrist, driving first two then three fingers deep inside herself; she’s just feeling herself out, just making way for the next twist, as she curves her fingers inside to find her happy spot. Her other hand now focuses on her clit; she’s moderating her pace now; less of a fast, rubbing motion and more a strumming; she is playing herself, not playing with herself. Additionally, this is not playing; she needs what she’s feeling.You let out a soft satisfied grunt of amusement, you kiss her thigh and you stand up to see all of her in action.
Her eyes are closed; she’s deeply engrossed in her own pleasure centres now, just as you had hoped. The taste of her is on your lips, and you come round to the side of the bed.
She opens her eyes with something akin to terror that you’ve gone missing; she has nothing of that sort to worry about; she pulls away from the engorged nub of her clit and reaches out to you with her free hand, beckons you closer; she reaches out to your trousers, grabs for your belt; you kneel on the bed, she fumbles with it and, in exasperation gives you a desperate look. You toy with the idea of making her interrupt her frenzy, but that’s not what this day is for.
You undo your belt and she takes it from there, popping the button on your jeans, scrambling to pull them down and to reach your pants; she’s pathetic, really; you decide to end that particular misery, lean forward and kiss her; she sighs with relief as she tastes herself on your lips.
You undo your jeans and let them drop to the floor; you kick them off and kneel beside her on the bed; she reaches up and pulls down your black cotton trunks to release your half-hard cock.
“How the FUCK are you not hard?” She demands. She is in a paroxysm of scorned confusion. Her face is delightfully flushed, her eyes are moist with the glow of sweat and tiny little tears. She’s closing to a point of no return.
You laugh at the sight of her.
“You’ll soon fix that, honey, won’t you?”
“You’re fucking right I will,” she replies, and she shifts to the side, turning her head, taking you roughly in her hand and stuffing your cock into her mouth. She has synchronised her own right hand working on her beautifully glistening exposed clit to the sucking motion, and she is furiously licking your shaft inside her mouth as she bids to take you deeper inside.
“How long has it been since you came for yourself, honey?” You demand.
You throw your head back and enjoy her desperation; she has nothing to worry about; watching her tits bounce on the bed from her exertions above and below, and hearing her suck you as she does will certainly have you stiff in no time, but then you were always going to be.
“It’s been too long! Maybe a month. And it’s been so long since someone touched me.”
You reach down to feel those breasts; the impossibly soft and firm flesh so sensitive to the touch that she opens her eyes to watch you touch her; you study how she’s using her hand; you imagine her fingers hooking up onto the front wall; slightly jealous?
You decide jealousy can wait; you shift a few inches closer to her and stroke her pretty face as she licks your shaft. That feels like heaven, and looks utterly magical. She opens her eyes and you lock mutual contact; you smile, and so does she, until you see a look of mild despair on her face; you look down again to see her hand, now utterly soaked, now more tentatively moving; she’s close to her first orgasm. You stroke her hair with one hand and run the back of your index finger down the now quivering flesh of her taut stomach.
“Did I tell you you could cum, Josephine?” You ask; there is a low menace in your voice; she can take it.
She looks at you with alarm.
“Naughty Josie,” you say, and pull back, extracting your now hard cock from her mouth; it bounds up proudly, slick with her spit and your burgeoning precum. She looks at it with a mix of pride and trepidation; she hasn’t stopped toying with her g-spot, and you can see her lost in the sensation.
“Cum for me, kitten,” you say. You have no idea where that came from, and neither has she, as she looks momentarily puzzled; but it’s a ruse. The break in concentration has thrown her the right way and you watch in awe as she begins to feel the heat of her orgasm spreading through her body. The rhythm of her strumming has changed; she’s reacting to what her climax dictates. That’s fucking hot, man. Jealousy makes a reappearance; you’ll never feel the intensity she’s beginning to experience.
“That’s right, honey. Show me how you get there.”
Her breathing gives way now to a distinct holding of breath and a tense, taut self-possession across her face. She looks straight at the ceiling and has no control for now. You watch her beautiful body shake; her legs in quivering spasm. She gives a drawn out moan, which dips to a groan and then gasps; it’s over; she breathes again and looks into your eyes with something between gratitude and anger.
You lie down beside her for a moment and you kiss; she is wet with sweat and she feels hot to the touch; your foreheads touch.
You reach down and take her hand from between her legs and smile at the pruned fingertips; you suck them into your mouth and give her a happy nod.
“You’re so fucking scary when you’re cumming, honey. Now. When you’re ready, I’m going to need you to do a thing for me.”
“Anything,” she says.
“That’s what I hoped you’d say. Stand up for me.”
Next?
Still haven’t cum? Here’s Part 3. It won’t make you cum either.
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