Mikhail fucked me. Came in me. Then cleaned me again. And now here he is, his lips kissing my labia as his tongue lashes out against my sensitive clit. Lifting and guiding me through the whole process.
To be his is to feel the epitome of vulnerability and security all at once. This big, broad-shouldered brute hunches down, licking at my freshly cleaned slit, his muscles rippling as he pushes my thighs apart. The swirl of his tongue around my tiny clit so torturously skillful.
My back arches and for a second I think I’m going to twitch and hurt him, but then I remember it’s Mikhail. I can’t hurt him. It’s like he reads my thoughts, because he grips my thighs harder, making sure I know that he’s the one in control, even as he pampers me with his mouth.
“Oh god,” I gasp, clutching the blankets as my entire body grows warmer. I lose all my thoughts, all my hesitations, all my insecurities as he lavishes me with attention.
There he is, this older man, made of muscle and determination, carrying the scars of a harsh life, using all his power to hold me down and please me. To keep me in place as he takes his time, taking a taste of me. And the way he does it never made it seem for one moment like it’s anything but his desire to drink me in and have every bit of me that pushed him to do this.
Mikhail has to have me. All of me. All to himself. But not like some rich man hoards his gold, no. It isn’t just enough to have me, he has to experience every facet of me. Savor me. And that’s what it looks like as I watch him eat me out, his head moving, a low, guttural growl rumbling from out of his broad chest to hum through his lips and he tongues against my slit.
Even though I can’t help but squirm, I’m overcome by the sensuality and the soft pleasure he’s bestowing on me. I lick my lips, but I’m panting so fast that they’re immediately dry again.
“Oh Mikhail,” I moan, my fingers going to his head, entwining in his thick hair as my other hand grips the comforter. “Just like that!”
But he does it as his own pace, torturing me, teasing me along the brink a while until I’m a panting, squirming mess. Only when he’s satisfied with having his fill does he help push me over that ledge I’ve been teetering on, his tongue masterfully swirling around my clit until I’m crying out and gushing with pleasure.
My world goes dark as I feel blind a moment, slumping back onto the bed breathlessly. When I slowly come back to reality, it’s with my dark, rugged lover over me. My ankles are in his hands as he keeps me splayed wide, his dick teasing along my glistening pussy.
“I meant every word I said,” he growls, nudging the thick, purple crown of his manhood against my womanhood. He speaks as he sinks down into me, spearing me on his manhood as his dark voice rumbles with pleasure, “I am going to knock you up and make you my woman for life, kotika.”
“I know,” I manage, but my head is still spinning, and I’d say anything to get him back inside of me. I want his warmth, his touch, inside and out. But it’s not for me to say. He has all the power, all the control, and no matter how much I nudge my hips towards him, I know he won’t take me until he can’t stand the temptation any more.
I watch his manhood pulse as I tease, smearing my glistening honey along his cock as he stares at me with such intensity. Is it love? Lust? Both, I know instinctually. The smolder in his dark gaze is communicating with me on a sub-human level, even though he’s never said the words.
He sweeps down slowly and presses his lips to mine, taking my mouth with a deep, passionate kiss. Only then does he push in, spearing me once more, stretching me around his manhood and making me moan all over again, as if it were the very first time. From there, it’s the slow, steady pump of his hips as he claims me anew.
I’m fresh and clean, but he’s making me feel filthy in all the right ways. He’s torturing me with pleasure, and it’s only when I’m screaming and the bed is torn apart by my frantic grasping that he seems to be letting up at all. I feel like I can’t take it anymore, my throbbing clit pressed against his loins, my ankles wrapped around his neck, but he doesn’t relent.
My paler skin meets his hard flesh, his short tangle of dark hair above his shaft tickling my sensitive nub as he pumps into me. It’s torturous! And with how big he is, the strain he puts on my narrow little slit is almost too much to bear, but he draws the moment out, taking his time with me. Slow and sweet.
I’ve been flailing and bunching up blankets around me for some time when I first start screaming out, “I can’t take it!” But he’s still not done with me, even as I feel his dick swell. He’s ravenous, like a mighty warrior savoring his gladiatorial rewards, and he won’t stop until he’s done.