Page 57 of The First Kind of Love
I nod about ten times in a row. “I understand.”
“If you need me to stop at any time, you raise your leg straight in the air, okay? If anything feels uncomfortable,you let me know, Shiloh.”
God, could Fultonbemore incredible? The fact that he advocates for safe sex and respecting boundaries…it makes me way hornier than if he were to slap me on the ass and call it a day.
“Please, Fulton. Please, I need?—”
“No, Sunshine. No begging. We talked about this.”
He leans over me to grab my discarded underwear, balling it up nice and tight before gently pulling my jaw down to make adequate room. And then, with minimal pressure and a meticulous hand, he feeds me my thong, making sure not to trigger my gag reflex.
Maw pried open—stuffed to the brim with a noise-preventing impediment—the smell and taste is what’s most overwhelming. A mixture of my cum, his cum, my smell, his smell, my sweat, his sweat—and I’m going to sound like a batshit crazy person, but it’s fucking orgasmic. The saltiness from both our arousals coats my tongue, and I wish I could inject his man musk straight into my veins.
Since I’m flat on my back, I can’t see what he’s doing unless I lift my head, and I deduce that after a few of thosehead lifts, my stomach muscles are going to be on fire. So, in a sense, I’m completely blind right now. I’m also embarrassingly wet.
Fulton doesn’t provide me with a preamble. He lays the flat of his tongue against my opening with no intention of plunging deeper. Then, languidly, he uses the dexterous muscle to employ a swirling motion while also balancing the occasional cutaway to a rapid succession of flicks. My back practically lifts off the bed, my legs start to shake, and my teeth clamp down on the nuisance in my mouth.
I squirm around, my pleasure cranking up the longer his tongue stimulates the nerves in my pebbled clit, and a muffled string of whimpers gets caught and disbanded by my panties. Fulton teases me with his mouth, listing it back and forth over my sex. Then he slowly pushes his tongue past my inner ring of muscle as an orchestra of lewd noises bounces off the walls. My thighs are the consistency of jelly while my cunt dilates around the foreign intrusion, the overproduction of my arousal lubricating his lips with little effort.
Oh, fuck. Oh, God. This is?—
Suddenly, a whoosh of cold air greets my pussy, and his magical mouth has been pulled off me.
“You were trying to speak, Sunshine. I stop when you do that, okay?”
I lift my neck to nod at him, and after a few seconds, he resumes, detouring to the swollen and sensitive rim of my hole. My cunt swallows the girth of his tongue greedily, my inner walls clinging to every flutter that he produces with the skill of a seasoned veteran.
Hyperaware of opening my fat trap, I focus all my attention on adjusting my lower half to the most prime position to feeleverything. I’m contorting myself in ways I didn’t even know was possible.
“You’re doing so well. You’re being such a good girl for me.Make a mess for me, yeah? Ride my tongue. Paint my face in cum. Let me taste what I do to you.”
Fulton’s fingers are now in play, and they’re able to reach crevices that his tongue can only dream of. Between the edging, the praise, and the quiet dominance, my release-o-meter is at its breaking point. Maybe I would’ve lasted longer if the circumstances were less…restraining…but I’m going to turn into a wild animal if I have to wait any longer.
I don’t care about the moans or the whimpers that phase through the clump in my mouth, and apparently, neither does Fulton because he’s throwing his head back and grounding out a mantra of mercy. I don’t think he’s all the way there yet, but he’s getting pretty fucking close.
With one last dive into my cunt, Fulton aims for my G-spot like he’s hightailing it to a goal, his finger pressing down on that figurative little button that lights all my buzzers neon red. My sexual frustration comes bursting out of me as if a stopper has been pulled from a drain, and I drench Fulton’s face in a wash of cum.
I raise my head to find him moaning through his own sexual excitement, licking up every single drop of arousal that’s sullied the bottom half of his face. He doesn’t evenlookexhausted. I guess hockey stamina is a blessing and a curse. His dick is still as hard as granite, though, and I’m determined to change that if it’s the last thing I do.
He leans forward, taking the makeshift gag out of my mouth. “Let me clean you up,” he offers.
I sit all the way up and lean back on my palms, flaunting my tits. “No, Fulton. I want you inside of me.Allof you.”
He freezes, half-paralyzed by my demand and half-paralyzed by the sight of my boobs. A paroxysm of worry ghosts over his face, and it would almost be laughable if it wasn’t for the direness of the situation.
“I’ve never…had sex.”
Surprise blizzards through me. “Never?”
A shake of his head—one rife with embarrassment.
I grab his hand and hold it against my heart, where he can feel every overexerted thump heighten under his touch. “I’m ready if you are.”
Contemplation settles heavy on his face like the first snowfall in mid-October, and then I catch a glimpse of the predatory creature that was here moments before—the one still crouching in the tall grass in search of satisfaction. Fulton’s a giver. His only goal is to get his partner off. If he comes in the process, it’s an added bonus, but never a firm finish line.
But now, as I offer him the same effort he offered me, it takes him a lot less time to consider my proposal than I thought it would.
“Bend over. I want to see you milk every inch of my cock.”
