“I’m not going to want to do it,” I said. She was on top of me, and I was buried inside her for the first time in a month. Life had gotten in the way, and eventually we had to get out of the city to get out of our heads. We rented a car and drove to the closest Inn we could find with a fireplace and a hot tub, but even then it took us a night to calm down. It took us a night to let go enough to remember why we had fallen in love.
“You don’t have to do it,” she replied, her hips moving over me and her eyes partway open. I closed mine and imagined it, and I could feel my cock get even harder. I pulled her hips down to me and thrust up just hard enough for her to let out a moan.
“Now I want to,” I said. “But I won’t soon. You have to make me. Don’t give me a choice.”
It was her turn to fuck me harder, and I wasn’t sure if it was because it was also her turn-on or simply that she was enjoying watching me struggle. She scratched my chest and clenched her cunt until I couldn’t stand it. I arched my back and bit my lip as I started to come, and I could instantly feel my desire leaving my body. I tried to hold on, and I tried to keep it alive, but it slipped away from me.
And then she had my hair in her hand. She reached the other between her legs as she sat up on her knees, and just like I asked she didn’t let me think. She moved quickly up my body, opened her legs, and then pulled my mouth up to her cunt. She pushed down onto me, and I opened my mouth instantly. I grabbed her ass and then shoved my tongue deep inside her.
“That’s right,” she whispered. “Eat your cum from my pussy. Lick me clean. Taste your own jizz.”
I stopped thinking altogether as I did exactly what she told me to do. I opened my mouth wide, and lapped at her, tasting her body as well as mine, and I moved from joy to revulsion and back again. I had tasted my own cum before, but this was somehow different. This was no tentative touch or sticky kiss. This was me eating my cum from her cunt because she was making me do it. This was me finally accepting the reality of what it means for her to get fucked.
She thrust down around me and rubbed her clit with two fingers,as I continued to fuck her. She grew wetter with each second, and I found myself more ravenous the harder she fucked my face. She screamed as she came, and her hand in my hair never once relaxed. In the last minutes of her orgasm she held me so tightly to her that I nearly stopped breathing.
When she finally collapsed onto the bed next to me, she kissed me once. She stared down in amazement as my still-hard cock twitched against my stomach.
“I think you liked it,” she whispered.
“I think you did too,” I replied.
And then she kissed me again, and our month long retreat from our own desires finally left our bodies in long, deep sighs of release.
Guy New York
(If you enjoy my writing, you might like my new novel, The Island on The Edge of Normal, now available on Kindle and in Print.)