it ain’t gonna collapse here.”
“Now ride my fuckin’ face,” he said as he lowered himself onto the table again.
“But, we’re outside ,” I explained as I peered over the edge of the deck to the deck beside us which was not more than ten feet away.
I glanced to my left, toward my other neighbor’s deck which was the same distance away.
“I don’t give a fuck. It’s seventy-five out here, and about ninety god damned degrees in your apartment. I been ridin’ all day, I’m hot, and it’s fuckin’ midnight. Grind that sweet little pussy on my beard, I ain’t gonna ask ya again. Now get to work,” he said in a demanding tone.
I glanced over my left shoulder, and then turned to my right. All of the decks I could see in both directions were empty, which wasn’t surprising. It was almost one o’clock in the morning. Somewhat reluctantly, I unbuttoned my shorts, pulled them down past my thighs, and kicked them to the side. After pulling off my panties and tossing them on top of my shorts, I walked toward the table and peered down at Biscuit.
Lying there on his back with his face pointed straight up at the sky, he grinned and stuck out his tongue.
Just sit down here like you’re getting’ on a chair,” he said as he closed his eyes and patted his hand against his beard.
“This seems weird,” I sighed as I glanced out at the pond situated directly behind the deck.
“Don’t seem weird to me. Eatin’ pussy is damned sure more natural than eatin’ a fuckin’ hamburger,” he said flatly.
“Fuck my beard, Kat,” he sighed.
As if I had no choice, and feeling no differently, I backed up to the table, straddled his chest, and squatted down on his face. As my butt cheeks rested against his face, he reached up and shifted me slightly, then shoved his tongue against my pussy.
As soon as I felt the tip of it against my swollen mound, I spread my legs slightly and relaxed.
Oh dear God.
His tongue pressed deeper and deeper, finally reaching the sweetest of spots. The tip of his tongue tickled my g-spot while the girth of it satisfied my pussy like no vibrator or dildo ever could. Somewhat nervous at first, ten seconds of his torturous tongue caused me to forget everything but being satisfied by his ability to please me orally.
As I exhaled and arched my back, I peered up at the clear star filled sky. His tongue repeatedly searched inside of me for a place to tease as I held my breath, bit my lip, and prayed to last another thirty seconds before I reached climax. The build up to the orgasm was almost more enjoyable than the orgasm itself, but so far about ninety seconds was my record on orgasm denial.
Being quiet during climax had never been one of my strengths, nor had prolonging the build-up. When it was time to have an orgasm, I had no control. The two sexual assurances in life, for me anyway, were that I was going to have the orgasm when the time came, and I was going to be vocal about it.
As Biscuit began to moan into my thighs, his tongue danced in and out of my now soaking wet pussy. Just to solidify my place on the night’s orgasmic calendar, I reached down and began to play with my clit. Five or so seconds later, I felt my body began to reach the brink.
It was all but over.
“Oh holy fuck…” I moaned.
He began to moan more aggressively into my thighs. His beard against my inner thighs caused me to tingle all over as he forced his tongue in and out of my pussy.
“Jesus Biscuit…Jesus…I…” I wailed as I closed my eyes.
He pressed his tongue deep, held it there, and began some new procedure on my g-spot. Instead of flicking the tip of his tongue against it once and retracting it, he now held his tongue in place, and flicked the tip of his tongue against my sensitive g-spot over and over. I opened my eyes and stared up at the sky as my body convulsed and my toes began to curl.
“Holy…shit…” I squealed as I heard the table creak beneath our weight.
My pussy began to
“Now ride my fuckin’ face,” he said as he lowered himself onto the table again.
“But, we’re outside ,” I explained as I peered over the edge of the deck to the deck beside us which was not more than ten feet away.
I glanced to my left, toward my other neighbor’s deck which was the same distance away.
“I don’t give a fuck. It’s seventy-five out here, and about ninety god damned degrees in your apartment. I been ridin’ all day, I’m hot, and it’s fuckin’ midnight. Grind that sweet little pussy on my beard, I ain’t gonna ask ya again. Now get to work,” he said in a demanding tone.
I glanced over my left shoulder, and then turned to my right. All of the decks I could see in both directions were empty, which wasn’t surprising. It was almost one o’clock in the morning. Somewhat reluctantly, I unbuttoned my shorts, pulled them down past my thighs, and kicked them to the side. After pulling off my panties and tossing them on top of my shorts, I walked toward the table and peered down at Biscuit.
Lying there on his back with his face pointed straight up at the sky, he grinned and stuck out his tongue.
Just sit down here like you’re getting’ on a chair,” he said as he closed his eyes and patted his hand against his beard.
“This seems weird,” I sighed as I glanced out at the pond situated directly behind the deck.
“Don’t seem weird to me. Eatin’ pussy is damned sure more natural than eatin’ a fuckin’ hamburger,” he said flatly.
“Fuck my beard, Kat,” he sighed.
As if I had no choice, and feeling no differently, I backed up to the table, straddled his chest, and squatted down on his face. As my butt cheeks rested against his face, he reached up and shifted me slightly, then shoved his tongue against my pussy.
As soon as I felt the tip of it against my swollen mound, I spread my legs slightly and relaxed.
Oh dear God.
His tongue pressed deeper and deeper, finally reaching the sweetest of spots. The tip of his tongue tickled my g-spot while the girth of it satisfied my pussy like no vibrator or dildo ever could. Somewhat nervous at first, ten seconds of his torturous tongue caused me to forget everything but being satisfied by his ability to please me orally.
As I exhaled and arched my back, I peered up at the clear star filled sky. His tongue repeatedly searched inside of me for a place to tease as I held my breath, bit my lip, and prayed to last another thirty seconds before I reached climax. The build up to the orgasm was almost more enjoyable than the orgasm itself, but so far about ninety seconds was my record on orgasm denial.
Being quiet during climax had never been one of my strengths, nor had prolonging the build-up. When it was time to have an orgasm, I had no control. The two sexual assurances in life, for me anyway, were that I was going to have the orgasm when the time came, and I was going to be vocal about it.
As Biscuit began to moan into my thighs, his tongue danced in and out of my now soaking wet pussy. Just to solidify my place on the night’s orgasmic calendar, I reached down and began to play with my clit. Five or so seconds later, I felt my body began to reach the brink.
It was all but over.
“Oh holy fuck…” I moaned.
He began to moan more aggressively into my thighs. His beard against my inner thighs caused me to tingle all over as he forced his tongue in and out of my pussy.
“Jesus Biscuit…Jesus…I…” I wailed as I closed my eyes.
He pressed his tongue deep, held it there, and began some new procedure on my g-spot. Instead of flicking the tip of his tongue against it once and retracting it, he now held his tongue in place, and flicked the tip of his tongue against my sensitive g-spot over and over. I opened my eyes and stared up at the sky as my body convulsed and my toes began to curl.
“Holy…shit…” I squealed as I heard the table creak beneath our weight.
My pussy began to
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