He licked my pussy for awhile last night, longer than he has in awhile. I should have been focused on the pleasure at hand, but I couldn’t help my mind wondering back in time to when my husband used to make me cum all of the time with his tongue.
The first time he ever experienced my orgasm was in my bed at the home I shared with only my son. He and I had yet to have intercourse, but that didn’t stop him from getting as close as possible. We kissed and touched and eventually let the passion slide south towards my honey pot.
I didn’t wax back then, so the creature he met under my panties was a fury entrance to heaven, a less sophisticated version of the usually hairless kitty I sport these days. He maneuvered through the brush to uncover the delicate yumminess within.
His tongued licked my clit a few times before venturing further into the wild Wild West of my goddess cave. He licked my opening experiencing the juicy outcome of more than 6 months without sex. That’s right, I was hornier than ever but holding out for Mr. Right.
Then the magic started, and I leaned back and went for the ride. He buried his face in my pussy, licking my clit with rhythmic tension while working one of his big fingers inside of me, rubbing my g-spot between strokes. He was good!
I moaned like a cat in heat, knowing I wanted more but also knowing this is all I could get. My legs spread wider revealing all of my feminine magic, a scene that would ultimately drive my future husband wild.
“I’ve never seen a woman spread her legs the way you do,” he told me later. “It is incredibility sexy.”
His dick was thick and hard, but I never saw it. He grinded it like a good boy on the bed while he pleasured me understanding that sadly it was not going to be part of the party. He still had a lot of proving to do before I’d let him inside of my pleasure. I guess I didn’t think much about letting his finger get a taste.
I moaned more and more, arching my back and squeezing my pussy around his finger. He licked my clit right into one of the best orgasms of my life.
The build up was slow but meaningful. We’d only been dating 3 weeks at that point, and I didn’t want to be so attracted, I held back as much as I possibly could. I didn’t want to be that girl.
He’d told me about all of the other women in his past, the women who threw their bodies on him like free-for-all Mardi Gras beads. If he showed the slightest bit of interest, they were naked and bent over offering him a fun free fuck hoping he’d come back for more.
He fucked girls at parties, girls he didn’t even know. He fucked girls at clubs, girls he’d never see again. He fucked girls in the neighborhood, girls who wished they could move in. He fucked several girls in a day, sometimes at the same time. His good looks, charm and money made it ridiculously easy to get laid.
“He’s a king,” I told my girlfriends the next day over brunch in a quaint downtown cafe. I was incredulous still sobering up from the drunken love session the night before with this hot guy I’d yet to tell my girlfriends about. “He ate me out so good, I climaxed in his face, on his finger. My pussy was drenching wet. He’s got skills.”
My girls laughed and shook their heads simultaneously. “And y’all didn’t have sex?” One of them asked.
“Nope. I’m not doing that until he gets checked for STDs. We’re waiting on his results right now.”
“Dang, hard core, Stella,” the other said. “Talk about making a guy wait. I think I waited a few months before I had sex with my husband the first time, but he wasn’t doing all of that to me! He didn’t seem that horny.”
“Well, this guy is an animal,” I admitted. “He’s been trying to get some since the second date. I get the impression that he’s not used to waiting this long.”
My friends then made a bet. “I bet you’ll be fucking by next week,” the first one laughed.
The second one chimed in, “No, she’ll be giving it up tonight. Just wait! The king is about to be paid!”
Those are the thoughts that streamed through my mind as my husband licked my little pussy last night. The sensations were strong and delicious gearing my body up for the intercourse that was soon to be happening. He has all of me now. He can fuck me however and whenever he wants.
It was a late night. Tired we were as we spent the better part of the evening designing the future office at the RV Resort. We needed to make sure we accounted for all of its needs as well as all of our own. By the time we nestled in the sheets for sex then sleep, we both knew it wasn’t going to be a long drawn out night of out-of-this-world lovemaking.
“How do you want to cum?” he asked jarring me out of my head and back into my body.
I didn’t know. Maybe a part of me really wanted him to finish the job he’d started down below with his mouth. Or maybe I’d turn over and let him bury his face in my pussy with my butt up like we discovered at Disney so many years back. I was horny, but also not, having had more sex in the last five weeks than we’d had in the previous 5 months. Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration. We’ve always had a very healthy sex life.
I turned over and put my butt in the air. My arched back made my favorite C curve, where my back dips to the bed leaving my pussy and my mouth at equal heights. He entered me, raging hard and throbbing, and stroked me a few times before pulling out and bending down to see.
I love it when he stares at my pussy. She must have been open and inviting, juicy and pink. Yesterday I got a fresh wax revealing all of my tucked away secrets. My shaved kitty was totally exposed and ravenous. He stared a bit longer combing his fingers through my wetness before standing back up to indulge his masculinity in my pleasure.
I propped my chest up with my left arm so as to not squeeze my large breasts under me. Sometimes my husband likes to reach around and cup them when he’s all of the way inside of me. My right hand reached under me to find his balls, hairy and full, and then my clit, engorged and slippery. I wiped off most of the liquid because friction is my orgasm’s best friend.
He starts pounding, deep and real, like the meaning of life or some shit like that! The images of my well-worn fantasies collect in my mind. I’m bent over and there’s another guy, a big dick guy. I’m a legit crack whore, trading my body for a quick fix. The dealer is tired of me having used my body so many times before to drain his cum. He tosses me to a friend, another big dick guy, and then to another. I loose count, not that I ever really counted at all. Hundreds maybe even thousands of men have pleasured themselves in my pussy, fucking me raw dog, as they say, and leaving a load of cum in their wake. Having a dick inside of me feels more normal than not.
They shoot up some kind of drug I like and pass me some, then it’s time for another one. I stay on all fours, doggie style, draining dicks and feeling high. Days, weeks, months go by.
I start to cum. It’s slow at first and then bursts into fireworks. My low moans turn into audible sighs, rhythmic like heartbeats, revealing the pleasure I feel one ooh, ahh at a time.
He’s climaxed too, bending over to kiss my back when he was threw. Relaxation overcame me as I crawled into my sleeping pose. Pat, Pat, Pat was somewhere in there. I heard a goodnight and an I love you. My king, my master, my dealer, my man, I need you.