Sunday, February 21, 2010


His mouth. His mouth. How it makes me pulse and ache. For him. For more. I pulse and ache and thump, thump, thump while he takes charge and flips me over onto my back and spreads my legs across the white expanse on which we play.

Kneeling on the floor at the end of the bed, his hands stroke my almost naked body, beginning at my neck, tracing my collarbone, taking in the swell of my breasts, fondling my hard rosy nipples, possessing my waist, moving across my tummy and hips and thighs and calves, ending with a gentle foot caress. At long last his mouth joins in, kissing, licking, sucking, roaming hungry gestures marking me with his seemingly insatiable lust as my body quakes and shivers in response.

Impatience now rules his moves as he finally slips the cream and black satin g-string from me, my hips and bottom rising up, meeting his smiling face as the silky fabric and his fingertips brush my fair skin. Once past my feet he holds them to his face, inhaling deeply, absorbing my scent at a remove, extending the moment we have both yearned for over many a night and day.

Head sinking down, he takes his time to look at me, to memorize, to truly see the curve of my mound, the neat strip of fuzz, each pink plump fold, my flowing slit now glistening in the low light. And after what seems like an age his lips meet mine, kissing my cunt as if it were my mouth, lips possessing and consuming, his tongue slowly slithering out, moving across the hood of my clit oh so deliberately, making tiny circles around and around and around, my juices now pouring out of me, his tongue now darting and flicking as he pushes his big thick thumb into my pussy, twirling and fingering, replaced urgently by two others crooked towards him, sliding, probing, in and out, in and out, in and out, my pussy splashing and squelching, his moans and groans as he sates his own hunger withdrawing his fingers and drinking me in, his other hand stretching out to find my right breast, my one hand on the very same hand, the other stroking his head and pushing him in further, deeper as my legs open wide, wider, wider still threatening to tear me apart, whimpers and moans and animal groans, my begging and pleading for more, for more, right there, yes, there, oh baby don't stop, don't stop, my body unconsciously convulsing, my back arching with each new flick and lick of his tongue, with each kiss and suck of his mouth, with each wave of pleasure that courses through my slight body and releases the warm creamy flood.


The Panserbjørne said...

God, how I do love those "splashing, squelching" sounds. Nothing at all in the world like them, like their sound, like the feeling. And there's nothing like knowing you caused it, either.

Delicious. I'm suddenly very thirsty.

-- PB

Cheeky Minx said...

Mmmm, I love those delectable sounds also PB.

And I'm sure we can find something to quench that thirst of yours... ;)

Jake said...

Cream and black satin? Oh yes please. I think I'd have to tease you through it for a little before we took them off though ;)

Cheeky Minx said...

Well, I have to admit I do like a good tease Jake... ;)