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“Good, because I’m hungry, baby, and the only thing I want to eat is your sweet little cunt so bend over and let me feel you come on my tongue while it’s buried deep inside you.”
“I—I’m sweaty,” I start to protest.
He pushes me down again with a throaty chuckle. “That’s the point.” Then he drops to his knees behind me as he pushes my legs further apart. He grips my ass, spreading me as he leans in and runs his tongue right up my slit. He repeats the process, this time not stopping when he reaches my asshole. Instead, he swirls his tongue around it before dragging it slowly all the way up my spine.
This is a completely new sensation. I’ve never in my life felt comfortable being so exposed like this, let alone having a man’s tongue exploring my most intimate parts from behind. It feels sexy and wild.
He doesn’t waste time. He devours me, his tongue deep inside me, causing my legs to begin to tremble. I’ve never had a man eat me so thoroughly, so explicitly with such confidence.
I’ve only been with two men in the past, both of which were in college. Both of which left me severely lacking. Not only did I not finish with either guy, but one thought he was being the dominant, sexy alpha in the bedroom, but really he was just a selfish asshole who only wanted to be serviced. The other guy seemed lost, quite honestly, and couldn’t go more than ten seconds without asking does it feel good?
I can feel my release building as Cyrus takes his time with me. He turns me around to face him, still on his knees. He reaches up, pulling my leggings all the way down my legs. He pulls off my shoes, tossing them aside; my leggings follow.
“Sit on my face,” he commands as he adjusts himself to lie back on the belt.
I open my mouth to ask if he’s sure, but he grabs my hand and yanks me down, helping me to a kneeling position. His hands are on my hips, gripping me tightly as he pulls me down to his mouth. I’m worried I’m going to crush his face, but he can’t seem to get enough. His fingers dig into my flesh as my orgasm finally finds me.
“I—I—I” I can’t even get the words out, I’m panting, shaking, my body ablaze with ecstasy. I barely recognize that he’s standing me up after I come down from my release. He walks me toward the mirrored wall, his hands coming up to cup my breasts as he leans his lips down toward my ear.
“Look at you.” He plumps my breasts in his hands.
My ponytail has fallen to one side of my head, my cheeks flushed, my nipples hard. I barely recognize myself.
“I don’t want you to ever feel ashamed or self-conscious for one fucking second. You have the most mouthwatering, sexy body. All I want to do when I look at you is use you in every way possible.”
I feel his other hand slide down between us. He pulls his cock out again, stroking himself before pushing me forward slightly.
“Plant your hands,” he commands as he runs the tip of his dick between my ass cheeks.
“Ohhh, yes,” he groans the second he finds my entrance. “I promised myself I wouldn’t,” he moans, almost as if he’s talking to himself. He presses the tip against me, sliding it a few centimeters inside me.
“Please,” I beg.
His eyelids are so heavy, his lips parted slightly as he looks down between us. I can feel him teasing himself and me, sliding his cock against me but not entering me.
“So warm, so fucking wet.”
I’m on edge. I curl my fingers against the glass but there’s nothing to grip on to. This time when he slides against my entrance, I push back against him. He growls, grabbing my hip so hard I know there will be bruises tomorrow.
“Fuck!”
He spins me around again to face him. “On your knees, you little tease.” He grabs my shoulder, pressing me down to my knees. He’s gripping the base of his cock, his other hand coming to rest against the glass above my head.
His hand begins to pump up and down his rigid shaft, his head falling forward as his breaths become rapid. Veins bulge from his neck as he stares down at me, his pace growing erratic. I glance down at his cock. He wasn’t wrong; it has to be nine inches at least and too thick for my fingers to fully wrap around it.
“Open your mouth,” he barks, stepping closer just as his eyes roll back in his head, a strangled groan erupting from his chest before he spills his release partly on my lips, partly dribbling down to my breasts.
He stares down at me, his chest heaving. “I—I’m sorry. Shit. Sorry.”
I want to tell him not to be, that it was exciting and hotter than anything I’ve ever experienced, but the regret on his face has already killed the mood.
Without another word, he tucks himself back into his shorts, stepping off through a doorway before returning with a washcloth. He bends down, cleaning me up before helping me to stand.
“There’s a full bathroom and shower over here.” He reaches down to grab my leggings that are still on the floor as he walks me toward the bathroom. “I’m sorry I don’t have any clean clothes for you to put on.” He reaches in to turn on the lights as I pull the tangled sports bra over my head and toss it next to my leggings. I expect him to follow me into the room, but he stays in the doorway.
“Are you not—” I thumb over my shoulder toward the shower.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ll shower upstairs and meet you by the garage entrance to drive you home.”
