Each time I take a break to catch my breath, it’s stolen away again by the view. Young and pink and vivid. The sweet scent of her arousal makes my cock twitch with desperation. I want to be inside her where it’s warm and wet and safe from the stresses of the outside world.
Once my lungs are no longer heaving, I go in for more, my tongue painting her folds and the tiny split of her entrance. She moans and rolls her hips, pushing back on me to drive my tongue deeper into her.
“Please fuck me,” she begs.
I pull back to give myself room to talk. “We’ll get to that, but right now I’m going to eat your hot cunt until you cum on my face.”
Back in the fray, all it takes is a little dirty talk and a skilled tongue to send her over the edge. She lets out a loud, desperate moan that turns into a cry. Reaching behind her, she grabs the back of my head and pushes my face into her creamy mound, smearing my face with her juices. I lick them up like a starving man.
When she finally lets go, I fill my empty lungs with air and catch my breath again. Being on the verge of suffocation so many times has made me lightheaded, euphoric. I never understood auto-erotic asphyxiation before, but I’m starting to get it now.
Strings of her cum drip onto the floor. Normally I’d lick her clean, but we’ll need that lubrication for what I have in store for her.
I sit on the couch. “Ride me,” I tell her. “I want to see your tits bounce and watch your face the next time I make you cum.
Before she climbs on my lap, she puts on a little show, bending over, spreading her ass cheeks, looking over her shoulder to watch my reaction. I immediately reach for my dick and start to stroke it. She turns around to face me, climbs onto the couch, standing over me with one foot on either side of my hips. Again she spreads herself, her pussy this time, making it gape. It’s a small gape, but enough for me to take a glimpse inside. I have to stop touching myself before I cum.
She squats over me, her ass hovering in the air a moment before she sits, spearing herself on my prick. She holds onto my shoulders for leverage and slowly begins her ride.
I feel the surface of her vaginal wall with the tip of my dick. She can’t go any further. She’s taken as much as she can, and yet there’s still roughly three inches of cock still exposed. She tries to push herself further, and somehow there’s a little more give, and I’m starting to wonder if I’m about to fuck her cervix. There’s a definite tightness there, but it feels amazing, and so I let her do what she wants to do. She knows her body. She can make these calls.
Her mouth opens and whimpers spill out.
“It hurts,” she says, and yet doesn’t try to release the pressure by easing up. Her legs start to shake. “But it feels so good at the same time.”
Just when I start to fear that I’m about to stab through her womb, she sits up until only the head of my dick is still inside of her, then impales herself again. She does this over and over until I can’t take anymore.
I grab her hips one last time and thrust hard and deep inside of her until I explode.
She screams, her body writhing and twisting. Her pussy strangles my cock as her orgasm rips through her with brutal force. Until she finally collapses against my chest.
We sit like this a while, spent and useless. Me, running my fingers through her sweaty hair, while she trails delicate kisses along my jawline. Not talking, just being here together in silence. It’s not uncomfortable one bit. Just the opposite. I’ve never been this comfortable with anyone in my life.
A half hour passes when suddenly I get my second wind. I’m still inside of her, growing hard again as I lift both of us off the couch. Her legs wrap around me and she giggles, trying to hold on. I carry her upstairs for round two.
Chapter 9
Georgia
In the morning, Loche and I are awake before either of our alarms go off. Even after several rounds, we’re not exhausted enough to sleep through the anxiety we both face. I’m wrapped up in his arms. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay like this, in the comfort and safety of him forever. But I have to figure out a way to get Dean Meyer not to can Loche and take away my scholarship.
When I try to leave, Loche holds tighter. “I have to go,” I say, smiling as he grumbles.
“Let’s just forget about everything and stay here. We can watch movies and eat junk food and pretend we’re not adults.”
“As amazing as that sounds, you know we can’t. I’m gonna call a cab.”
“Let me take you back to the dorm,” he says.
“It’s too risky. I don’t want anyone to see us.” His midnight-black Camaro with black rims and a V8 that can wake the dead isn’t exactly subtle.