Page 22 of Untangled
“I’m booking you a real one while I take Violet to do some Christmas shopping. Just decided, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Then I’ll happily say yes.”
Day 14
Explore what feels good to your partner using only your mouths.
(After, read the Day 15 card to make any necessary plans for tomorrow.)
Iswear, the real goal of this Amorous Advent challenge is not to reconnect but rather to build so much sexual tension that you can’t help but climb eachother when the time comes. Now that the daily prompts have been getting more physical, we’ve stopped our usual twice-weekly sex schedule. It’s been eight days without it and while sex is never something I’ve actively craved, the limits on what the deck allows have me as riled up as a teenage boy. I’ve spent the entire day buzzing with want, wondering if today is the day we’ll get to indulge. Somehow, I forgot what it’s like to be sexually frustrated, to choose to stop before the end.
There’s something maddeningly hot about it.
“Only mouths, huh? I can work with that,” Daniel says as he places the card on his nightstand. “Does that mean I have to take off your clothes with my teeth?” His smile is a comfort—a soft place to land. His eyes, though, are devilish as they reflect glimpses of light from the windows. He’s not kidding around.
“I don’t have the patience,” I reply as I strip my tank over my head and push down my shorts until I can kick them off the bed. I’m fully nude in fifteen seconds, and I find myself reaching for him, only to remember hands are off-limits.
“Looks like someone’s eager.”
“Don’t act like you’re not,” I say as I nod to the sheet he’s crawled under, tented above his lap.
“Less talking with that mouth.”
He says it as brings himself to lay between my knees, resting his hands on either side of my hips as he draws one of my nipples into his mouth. It elicits a gasp, to which hereplies, “Much better, baby.” I slide down until I’m laying under him. The weight of his erection lands on my thigh.
This man’s tongue is magic. He swirls languidly, then sucks hard before catching the peak between his teeth. He looks up from under his lashes to find my gaze as he slowly tugs. I watch my flesh stretch and feel a glorious pinch of pain as his teeth mark my skin. When he doesn’t relent, but instead holds me taut and flicks his tongue over the sensitive tip, I moan. Not a whimper or a breathy plea, but a guttural moan. Primal. He answers by releasing me from his mouth, only to swipe a flat tongue, hot and wet, right where he left. He blows a breath on the tender skin which prompts a full body shiver. I’m so fucking lit up. The thought that I might come if he keeps this up, without ever touching my clit, is a revelation.
I strain against the desire to beg for more. I want my hands in his hair. I want his hand on my throat. I need his fingers between my legs.
If every option was on the table, my mind would bounce from one sensation to another—his mouth on my chest, my body stretching as he fills me, my hands scraping down his back. Tonight, my entire world exists at the intersection of his lips and my tit. I can do nothing but sink into the pleasure and try to tolerate the incessant, visceral need thrumming in my blood. Like holding my breath, the need balloons. It clamors at my chest, threatening for release. When Daniel groans and then sucks so hard my nipple will bruise, it escapes.
It crashes into me like a tidal wave, smacking the air from my lungs and then pulling me under. I have a vague sense of my body trembling as I lull back and forth under the waves. They’re a comfort now. I exist entirely outside of myself and Daniel and his mouth. I’m weightless.
“Holy shit,” I hear him say. Holy indeed—I think I ascended at one point.
The rustling of the sheets brings me back to life, to see Daniel shimmying down the bed and pressing soft kisses to my belly.
“Please, I need a taste, baby. Can I clean you up?”
I nod and pull up my legs so he can bury his face between them. He starts with slow, even strokes of his tongue, then with gentle sucks to my clit. The way he sighs, content like I’m givinghima gift, settles into my bones. They’re filled with years of those sighs; they sit heavy with his praise. He deserves the same.
“Trade me,” I say, breaking free from his mouth and crawling to where he sits. I angle my head to where I’d been laying.
“I wasn’t done!” he protests, but he scoots himself to lay on his back nonetheless.
“Do you…want to keep going while I suck you?” I ask. It’s been years since we’ve done sixty-nine, and never once, in eight years of marriage, have I proposed it. But if we’re limited to our mouths, and I can’t get my fill of him the way I want, maybe it’ll be fun.
His “fuck yes,” emboldens me to bring my legs on either side of his chest.
“Back up and sit, Molls,” he demands, and I don’t have time to be self-conscious about my postpartum belly skin that hangs between our bodies because he dives into my pussy like he can’t wait another second. With my hands braced on the mattress, I let my moan vibrate around his cock as I take it into my mouth. With him warm and heavy against my tongue, I bob slowly, dragging along the vein that runs the underside. At the tip, I grip my lips and suck hard, then slide all the way down so he’s hitting the back of my throat. When I gag, he dives into my entrance to feed more of himself to my body, to fill me with him from end to end and everywhere between. My arms buckle and he pushes deeper—his tongue in my cunt and his cock down my throat.
I rock myself back, brushing against the stubble of his chin while dragging my teeth along his shaft. “Keep it up, baby” I hear him say, and my hips start to drag my wet pussy against his face in rhythm. I match the speed with my sucks, taking him deep and pulling up, my tongue licking around the tip before diving back down.
“Yes, yes, baby, shit, yes, shit!” he says and I’m echoing the words as we both build toward climax. With a series of quick flicks against my clit, I fall over first, and a second later his warm, salty release coats my tongue. Without thought, I collapse on top of him and let the endorphins settle. I hold his cum in my mouth until I can force my jelly legs to move,until I can turn around and see his face when I swallow. I lick the remainder off my lips while his eyes trace the movement of my tongue with reverence.
“That was incredible, holy shit,” he says, and I clock the sweat marking his brow and glistening in tiny pinpricks on his chest. The shiny coat of my arousal lingering above his lips.
“That was something,” I reply, while a pointy edge of desire pokes around low in my stomach. While it’s been softened by the orgasms, it’s still sharp. It needs to be filed—or is it defiled? “I wish we could do more.”
