apart for even one hour? How am I going to survive not looking at you? How will I function, not knowing when I can touch you again, to do this?” As though overcome by the thought, he touched his mouth to my sex in a lusty, open-mouthed kiss. His mouth ate at me. His tongue delved, licking deep, then lapping against the small charged peak of my clit. His moans were almost savage-sounding. If he’d sucked me, I could have climaxed almost instantly. But he knew this. His licks were gentle and wet but purposefully avoiding rhythm.
Then he took the round beads from my hand and carefully, one at a time, rolled them against my entrance. He pushed one into me, then the other. I wa s so wet they slid into me easily enough, although they felt bigger than they looked. There was a full, not unpleasant ache inside me and my body clenched around the invading roundness until the beds were snugly embraced. I lay still, letting my inner muscles adjust. My breasts rose and fell with my breath and I could feel the air and the heat of my body with each little movement.
It was then that Alexander touched the broad end of h is cock strongly against my engorged nub, in a brief, gyrating press. The sensation was bright and intense, a bolt of promising pleasure that rocked me to my core, where I began to pulse around the beads. But then, to my intense dismay, he removed his touch before the rush could fully take hold.
I felt irate at this sudden removal of my promised pleasure. It wasn’t fair .
I wanted his big cock touching me, pressing against me, rubbing me and giving me the release I needed . I bucked and writhed, wanting him to do it again but he was chuckling at my inflamed reaction.
“Not yet, sweetheart,” he laughed. I knew it: I was in bed with the devil. Who else would have enjoyed torturing me to this extent? Who else would have laughed at my desperation?
And it was only getting worse. As I writhed, swiveling my hips in a protesting plead, the beads, deep inside me, began to roll, too, caressing me from the inside. The fullness was indescribable, the pleasure deep and severe. Not enough, yet, to make me come, but I was riding some sort of pre-orgasmic swell that was maddeningly warm, and blissfully sweet.
Alexander freed my wrists, sliding his hands around his cock. By this point, I was very nearly mindless. I felt greedy and crazily aroused . I wanted to touch him. I wanted my hands on that big cock, squeezing and caressing. With my hands now free, I reached for him.
“I’d fuck that perfect little mouth, honey, but I’m wary of the state you’re in,” he laughed, and his smugness fueled my madness further. With one hand I fingered the smooth crown of his cock, lightly pinching the head, swirling my thumb across the moisture that had gathered there. He groaned loudly. I let my other hand rove, cupping the loose skin of his scrotum, playing gently, reaching to the secreted place behind to deftly explore and gently press. Boldly, I went further, wriggling my fingers, feathering, teasing.
“ Holy fucking God, Lila ,” he growled. “You’re killing me. You’re killing me .”
I pressed harder, working him w ith my hands. And harder. “Come on,” I cooed. “Come all over me. I want to feel your hot cum on my skin. I want to rub it all over my naked body.”
With a feral growl, Alexander exploded. He came in pulsing, milky bursts that jetted endlessly across my breasts and my stomach. I loved the feeling of his pleasure raining over me, marking me as his . I felt owned by him, and coveted. I had earned this claim and I wanted every drop of it.
His teeth were clenched and his heavy-lidded eyes slightly bloodshot from the power of his release. Watching his eyes, I rubbed his cum across my skin, reveling in the soft liquid silk of it as I painted my breasts. I swirled it around my nipples.
Alexander leaned over me,
Then he took the round beads from my hand and carefully, one at a time, rolled them against my entrance. He pushed one into me, then the other. I wa s so wet they slid into me easily enough, although they felt bigger than they looked. There was a full, not unpleasant ache inside me and my body clenched around the invading roundness until the beds were snugly embraced. I lay still, letting my inner muscles adjust. My breasts rose and fell with my breath and I could feel the air and the heat of my body with each little movement.
It was then that Alexander touched the broad end of h is cock strongly against my engorged nub, in a brief, gyrating press. The sensation was bright and intense, a bolt of promising pleasure that rocked me to my core, where I began to pulse around the beads. But then, to my intense dismay, he removed his touch before the rush could fully take hold.
I felt irate at this sudden removal of my promised pleasure. It wasn’t fair .
I wanted his big cock touching me, pressing against me, rubbing me and giving me the release I needed . I bucked and writhed, wanting him to do it again but he was chuckling at my inflamed reaction.
“Not yet, sweetheart,” he laughed. I knew it: I was in bed with the devil. Who else would have enjoyed torturing me to this extent? Who else would have laughed at my desperation?
And it was only getting worse. As I writhed, swiveling my hips in a protesting plead, the beads, deep inside me, began to roll, too, caressing me from the inside. The fullness was indescribable, the pleasure deep and severe. Not enough, yet, to make me come, but I was riding some sort of pre-orgasmic swell that was maddeningly warm, and blissfully sweet.
Alexander freed my wrists, sliding his hands around his cock. By this point, I was very nearly mindless. I felt greedy and crazily aroused . I wanted to touch him. I wanted my hands on that big cock, squeezing and caressing. With my hands now free, I reached for him.
“I’d fuck that perfect little mouth, honey, but I’m wary of the state you’re in,” he laughed, and his smugness fueled my madness further. With one hand I fingered the smooth crown of his cock, lightly pinching the head, swirling my thumb across the moisture that had gathered there. He groaned loudly. I let my other hand rove, cupping the loose skin of his scrotum, playing gently, reaching to the secreted place behind to deftly explore and gently press. Boldly, I went further, wriggling my fingers, feathering, teasing.
“ Holy fucking God, Lila ,” he growled. “You’re killing me. You’re killing me .”
I pressed harder, working him w ith my hands. And harder. “Come on,” I cooed. “Come all over me. I want to feel your hot cum on my skin. I want to rub it all over my naked body.”
With a feral growl, Alexander exploded. He came in pulsing, milky bursts that jetted endlessly across my breasts and my stomach. I loved the feeling of his pleasure raining over me, marking me as his . I felt owned by him, and coveted. I had earned this claim and I wanted every drop of it.
His teeth were clenched and his heavy-lidded eyes slightly bloodshot from the power of his release. Watching his eyes, I rubbed his cum across my skin, reveling in the soft liquid silk of it as I painted my breasts. I swirled it around my nipples.
Alexander leaned over me,
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