It sweeps over my heated skin a moment later, and the sensation makes me stiffen. Oh…fuck. I'd forgotten his tongue has ridges. I whimper as those ridges drag over my folds, and then he dips the tip of his tongue inside my core. I'm utterly distracted and breathless, and all I can do is squeeze the cock in my hand and whimper as he tongues me ferociously, like a starving man offered a feast.
"You smell so keffing good, Alice," Kaspar groans as his hands squeeze and clench my ass, and then he licks me deep again. "So keffing good and wet."
I whimper again, rubbing his cock against my face. It's hard to concentrate on pleasuring him when he's going to town on me. Porn makes it look so damn easy but it's full of lies. All I can do is hold his cock and drag it over my face and lips while he thrusts his tongue deep inside me and then licks my entrance. I push back against his tongue, moaning aloud when it flicks over sensitive skin in an absolutely blissful way.
"Kaspar," I gasp as he fucks me with his tongue, pushing inside me in hungry, relentless strokes. I give his cock another squeeze and lick the tip, trying to do my share of the pleasuring, too. Warm, sticky pre-cum slides down the head and along the shaft, and my hands are covered in it, so I do my best to lick it all up. The taste of him is a little bitter on my tongue, but I love the way his warm skin feels as I lick it, and I love the sounds he makes, so my enthusiasm grows until I'm sucking on the head of him, making whimpering noises as he drags his tongue over my pussy. I touch his spur, too, but I don't know if it does anything and so I give up.
He centers most of his attention on my entrance, completely ignoring my clit. It feels good—really good—but I'm not any closer to coming as the moments wear on, and I grind up against his face in frustration. I need more. Kaspar's breath hitches, and a fresh spurt of pre-cum glazes the head of his cock, and I know he's about to climax. I forget all about myself and focus on him instead, licking and nibbling and working his shaft with my clenched hand until he comes with a shudder and a groan, spilling on my tongue and my face. And my tits. And his chest. And pretty much everywhere. He comes so hard that his body lifts off the ground, stiffening, and I'm fascinated even as I try to clean up his mess with my tongue.
I lap at his cock with lazy strokes of my tongue as he shudders under me, his hands tightly clenching my butt so hard he's probably going to leave handprints. Kaspar finally goes limp under me, and I'm left wearing his jizz and aching with unfulfilled need as he rubs my flanks and tries to catch his breath.
"Did you come?" he asks, clearly sated and happy.
Did I come? "No, I did not!"
I sound far more indignant than I wanted. Did I come? I mean, sure, reasonably he was probably so busy seeing stars while he blew his load that he couldn't tell if I came or not. But now he'll probably just pat my butt, joke about how I need to be faster, and that there's always next time.
But he only makes a satisfied sound, pulls my cheeks apart, and pushes his head back into place and starts licking me again. Oh god, he's not giving up on me. "You're the best," I choke out, even as I rub my sticky face against his equally sticky cock. "Just keep going."
"Tell me what you need," he demands between long, slick drags of his tongue over my skin. "Fingers? Is there a spot inside—"
"Clit!" I blurt out. "Find my clit!"
"Clit?" He pauses in the glorious licking, and I can tell from his voice that he's confused. "Show me."
I want to complain that no one's ever shown him a damn clit before, but I'm too needy and desperate. I slide my fingers down between my thighs and rub around the hood of my clit, frantic. Oh god, I'm so damn sensitive.
Kaspar pushes my hand aside. "I want to do it."
I make a sound of protest that turns into a garbled cry as his thumb skates over my clit. His fingertips are slightly callused, and it feels like too much as he explores my clit, learning it, but I also don't want him to stop. I wriggle against his hand, panting wildly.
"This is new," he muses, and he sounds far too smug. "And it feels good if I touch it?"
"Not directly," I manage, gasping. "Around it. Too sensitive."