He let me circle his cock head with my pussy, occasionally rubbing at the very tip.
‘Good. Now, how much do you want it?’
‘Oh, a lot. Please let me have it.’
‘Have what?’
‘Your cock, Sir.’
‘Beautifully spoken.’
The words had sounded rough and foreign to me, but his opinion made my scalp tingle with pride.
He let me take the first inch of him inside me. I could feel how slick and wet I was but even so I was highly conscious of how his initial foray stretched me wide. I gasped with the sudden invasion and felt myself strain.
‘You’re feeling that, hmm?’ He kissed my forehead, rubbed his nose against mine.
‘Oh … yes.’
‘I’m trying to take this slowly but I just want more of you. You’re tight … no, it’s no use. I can’t wait.’
He loosened his grip on my hips and let me rock my way down his hard shaft, taking him in by delicious increments, feeling every captivated moment of my penetration.
‘You can’t wait either, eh?’ My enthusiasm was difficult to mask and he crooned, ‘Ohhhh yes,’ as I sank still further.
I reached a point beyond which it didn’t seem possible to take any more and tightened my muscles nervously.
‘It’s OK,’ he said, patting my bottom. ‘It’s all in. All the way. How does it feel?’
‘So full,’ I whispered. ‘I can’t believe I took it all.’
‘Oh, you know all the right things to say,’ he said with a little darting kiss. ‘Are you sure you haven’t done this before?’
I shook my head and laid it on his shoulder, overwhelmed with the position I found myself in. How had I arrived here, on the end of this man’s cock, ready to beg him for my release?
‘So, what are you waiting for?’ he said. ‘Show me how you grind those hips.’
I was painfully aware that I had been hovering on the tip of orgasm for a long time already. I would have to take this quite slowly and try to fix my mind on his pleasure. The closer I could get him to his orgasm, the more kindly disposed he would be towards granting mine. At least, it seemed a sensible equation.
So I made a study of the feel of his cock in me and the reactions each little move I made brought from him. He liked me to rock forward until my breasts were almost in his face, presented for his delectation, and he also liked me to straighten my spine and jolt and pant like a rodeo cowgirl. He liked to hold me by the elbows and restrict my movements when I broke the speed limit, shaking his head, warning me not to rush.
‘I’m enjoying this too much,’ he said. ‘Let’s make it last.’
Oh, but I didn’t want to hear those words. I wanted to come. I could feel my climax bubbling underneath, rising with every tiny spark of friction.
I tried all the nefarious means I could. I sucked at his nipples. I licked beneath his earlobe. I kissed him l
ike a drunken fool, all tongues and biting until he smacked my bum and made me stop.
‘You only have to ask,’ he reminded me.
But I didn’t want to ask! I wanted him to come, then I could just follow along in his wake, surfing the remains of his wave.
‘I’m asking now,’ I wailed. Dear God. It was so close. I was going to start coming mid-sentence.
‘Nicely,’ he insisted, pushing four fingers into the furrow of my arse.
Why did he have to do that? The gesture, of such implicit ownership, threw me into a madness of sensation.