Personal heaven

He smiles and looks like he’s in his own personal heaven. I have a distorted view from between my legs, made more distorted by the raw spasms he creates each time he rolls my clit between his lips. Alternately licking it, then sucking it, moving down to taste my wetness, then up, to capture it in his mouth again. He’s making it hard to focus, to watch, to learn.

He kisses the insides of my thighs, holding my hips in place. I find myself involuntarily moving them anyway, in the direction of the heat of his mouth. Part of me doesn’t want to stop the gentle butterfly kisses on the soft skin of my legs, my ass, the insides of my thighs. Those, too, bring me to a certain edge; heighten the sensitivity of everything else.

He’s drinking me; sucking in every last drop of moisture, then replacing my wetness with moisture from his tongue. His mouth has mapped me, knows my reaction before I do. I can feel it building, predictably, and I’m ready for the surge. He shifts, his mouth still leaving trails of heat and moisture and whispers of air, dancing around my most sensitive parts, and I groan in frustration. His fingers supplement his tongue, now, dipping inside of me, while he rains kisses on the silky, wet skin. His fingers probe deeper, as he sucks my clit, and I moan again, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair. His fingers are pressing downward, creating a pressure inside of me, trying to reach through me; touching those nerves in my ass that seem to be linked directly to my clit. Whether it’s the pressure or the sensation, I find myself closer and closer, thrashing about under his touch and his tongue.

Then his fingers shift, and he presses upwards, toward my stomach. And he reaches a spot that feels like I’ve been electrocuted. It jolts me, and I twist, pulling myself up to a sitting position, almost, as he still has some control over my ability to move. His mouth follows, never letting go of my clit, sucking as hard as he can, and still his fingers probe, high and deep inside of me. Again, a second jolt, jarring my senses. I don’t know whether to climb away, or press myself further onto his fingers. I take the second option, bearing down on his mouth and his fingers, the sensation alternately unbearable and addicting. But what I do doesn’t matter . . . His mouth is relentless, his fingers unforgiving. No matter which direction I twist or move, he moves with me . . .

The eruption inside rocks me, catches me by surprise. As if all the sensation in my body is drawn to one pin point of pleasure, almost painful . . . until the release. Shattering nerves in my brain, in my groin; the heat radiates to the tips of my fingers and toes, comes out of my mouth in an inhuman cry.

Between frantic gasps, still shaky from the aftershocks, I manage a hoarse “What was that? What did you do?”

He smiles, and looks like he’s in his own personal heaven. He shakes his head, starts to crawl up beside me, his cock hard against my leg. He kisses me hard, letting me taste myself on his mouth. He spreads my legs with his knees, and then I know it’s only beginning . . .