Remember now, Ollie,” Jamie said. “Just tongue, lips, teeth. No fingers. No penetration. That’s for me. Not for you.”
“Got it,” Oliver said. He sounded as breathless as I felt.
He looked me over slowly at first. My cheeks burned with embarrassment tinted with need. What did he think of me? Of this? Of us? But then I saw the hump in his khakis and realised he had an erection. A quite sizable one if I wasn’t mistaken. I forgot all that when he bent forward, almost as if in prayer, and kissed my inner thighs. First one, then the other. He dragged his soft bee-stung lips up to the very top of my thigh where the skin was the most sensitive. He kissed a maddeningly soft line across my mound and then down the other side. When my hips lifted up to meet his mouth, to tempt him, he finally gave us both what we clearly wanted. His mouth clamped down on me, his lips soft and hot. His tongue parted me, slickening my already juicy pussy with his saliva. His tongue painted insistent swirls on my clitoris until I was gripping the arms of the chair and moving my body up to meet him.
Jamie sat and watched. His cock was hard, that much I could tell. His eyes were shiny, mouth set in a fine amused line. He was enjoying this almost as much as me, I realised with what bordered on shock.
It had never occurred to me that this fantasy of mine did anything for him. But clearly it did.
“Make her come,” he whispered.
Oliver sealed his mouth to me, using the rigid tip of his tongue to nudge my clit over and over and over until I was panting for breath. Then he stopped. His mouth hovered near my pussy, but he’d pulled back. He didn’t touch me. My head pounded with blood, and I shifted restlessly. I wanted to come. I needed to come. Desperately.
Oliver glanced up at me with his pretty, gem-coloured eyes and gave me a crooked grin. Then he blew warm breath across my damp sex. Before I could register this new tactic, his mouth was back on me, his tongue back at me. Working me.
I came with a rough cry and an eager thrust of my hips. Thrusting up with such a force I felt the bite of his upper teeth against the smooth skin of my mound.
I sank back and sighed. Then I began to laugh.
“Good?” Jamie asked. I could tell he was asking both of us.
“Good,” I echoed, trying to catch my breath.
“One more?” Oliver said.
Before I could answer, Jamie nodded once and said, “Yeah, but after that first one she’s really sensitive. So you’ll have to hold her legs.”
I blinked but had no time to react in any other way before Oliver had pinned my legs wide with his large hands. He had very long fingers I noticed, and I wondered wildly what it would be like if Jamie would let him stick one or two in me. What it would feel like if he fucked me with those fingers.
The sensation of his mouth back on me swept me under. As he lapped at me with a stranger’s tongue, holding me with a stranger’s hands, I felt like it was all too much. The pleasure bordered on pain, and it threatened to eat me alive. To crush me.
“Please, please…” I muttered.
Through my nearly shut eyes I saw Jamie nod with confidence. “Keep going. She always says that. And then you hit a point where —”
The next lick from Oliver sent a shiver through me. A steamy gush of pleasure filled my lower body. Jamie laughed. “There it is. We always hit a point where the pleasure beats out the sensitivity.”
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Source Appetiser by Sommer Marsden
I am gourmet dessert….Pleasure beats out sensitivity!
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