Epic Sex

As always, it followed a game of Scrabble.  I won again.  This time I asked, "shall we fuck one more time since we can?"  He was to leave later that night, and today was our last chance.  His hands were in his face when he nodded.  But his enthusiasm grew after taking off his pants and settling back.

Today I wanted him wet – really wet.  I licked his shaft from base to head, moving around him with each stroke, making sure I didn't miss a side.  I took his balls in my mouth my favorite way:  first one, around and around, wetter and wetter, til I could take it in my mouth and tug it.  Then the other, then stretching my mouth wide to take them both.

I knew his cock waited eagerly above me.  I could feel my spit across my forehead as it skimmed my face.  Not wanting to waste it, I returned to the head of his cock.  I gently took it in my mouth, sucking hard as my tongue probed the tip, searching for the tasty pre-cum I know would come soon enough.

He wasn't yet wet enough.  I took him slowly and deeply, his hands gripping my hair and pressing down, until the spit rose from deep below.  And again.  And again, deeper still.  Pulling away, strings of saliva stretched between us, I licked him again up and down his his shaft, all the way around, slowly and methodically.  Wet, wetter.  I spit and splashed my lips with the juices.  Deeper, deeper, slower.  Then faster, with the music.  Sometimes holding my hair to guide me, sometimes thrusting his hips gently up as I reached the limit of my throat, his soft moaning kept my gags, breaths and moans company.

Just as I wanted more, he reached down and pulled my t-shirt over my head.  I loosened my bra, and his fingers found my nipples and pinched hard.  Really hard.  He pulled me toward him by them, forcing his cock that much deeper into my throat as I squealed and squirmed.  He held me there, my mouth completely filled, until I pulled back gasping.  I took a deep, wet breath and he did it again.  And again, pinching and pulling even harder.  We were approaching my limits, but still I wanted more.

I reached for my belt and jeans, needing to take them off so he could touch me.  I was ready to be fucked, by his hand, by a toy, by his cock, but didn't want to release the deliciousness of his cock until I knew he was really ready for me.  I pushed myself up and off him and bent over the couch.  Coming around behind me, he took me all in a sudden, slippery rush, so deeply, touching down for a moment before beginning a rhythmic pounding of my pussy.  I braced myself against the back of the couch, resisting him to bring him even deeper.  We continued that way for several minutes until he said, "on the floor."  I was headed there anyway, knowing he could find me even deeper and harder from there.

He took me again there, six or seven fast strokes followed by one deep one, working the length of me with each thrust.  He may have smacked my ass or my breast, I don't remember. My toes clenched behind me as I held myself in place, pressing back against him each time, I briefly felt the one sharply abraded one from the day before, a match for the growing rug burns on my knees and elbows.

My toe forgotten, I found his foot by my ear, and I took his thin ankle in my hand and squeezed.  This sent him even deeper, if that was possible.   He reached around for my nipple again, pinching hard as he pounded.  Dear god.  I squirted on his cock for the first time, feeling my juices run down my leg, adding more lubrication.

Then a rustle in our toy bag.  I heard the snap of the lube just before the cool gel hit my other hole, his fingers probing there as he continued to fuck me.  I knew what was coming, and I was ready.

I needed him in slowly, and asked for that as he firmly but fully inserted his cock into my ass.  My arms released and I collapsed forward onto the floor, my ass still raised high behind me.  I surrendered to this fullness, as he stroked here faster and faster, deeper and deeper.  I squirted again.

When I sensed he was getting close, I stopped him.  "I want to taste you one more time."  He went to clean himself first, as I squirmed there on the floor in anticipation.  I wanted my mouth on him again.  I wanted to taste him one last time before he leaves.  It was a good fifteen or twenty minutes of slobbery, deep licking and sucking, still deeper in my throat.  I spit and gagged, taking a break now and then, only to go back for more.  I licked and sucked on his balls again.  I massaged them, now slick and warm, as I sucked his head; I was taking my own pleasure from him, as I always do.  He is delicious.

I was rhythmically working him up and down as I felt him begin to pulse, and he grabbed my head, suddenly and firmly pressing me hard against him.  I felt my nose buried in his stomach as he came hard, deeper in my throat than I ever remember.  I stayed there until my eyes watered, till I could feel his come filling me deep inside.  I slowly and reluctantly withrew my moth, swallowing every drop with relish.

Jesus, we can fuck.

Republished with permission from Liz Doherty. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.