|
Oral Chaise
Yes folks, it's porn. If you don't want to or shouldn't read porn, don't read it. My mouth was suffused with the taste of my wife's delectable little pussy as she ground her hips into my face, my lips and tongue focused on her clitoris while my chin served as a convenient projection for her to thrust down on. I was on my back with her straddling my head, a position which usually starts out with her sitting politely on my chest but ends up with her panting and heaving as she tried to suffocate me with her dripping pussy. There are rarely times that I am more happy. From my vantage, the view was as erotic as the sweet taste on my tongue. My darling's legs pressed up against my cheeks, her smooth and delicate skin on the inside of her thigh always somehow cool to the touch. Her very aromatic sex I could not see, although other sense where compensating for that, and her bush tickled at my noise as she tried to fit the lower half of my head inside her. My wife's belly, perfectly rounded and eminently kissable, flexed with her exertions only an inch above my eyes, and above that were her incredible breasts, large and rolling across her body with her gyrations. The only drawback to this position, I had often thought, was my inability to touch her breasts. Somehow, each hand cupped under either side of her rounded ass, pulling her harder into my mouth, was not quite the same as carressing those tremendous globes. I think, however, that seeing them, bobbing and bouncing, teasing me from just beyond my reach, is leagues more tittilating than any actual contact might be. The speed of her thrusts slows as the real force behind each grows, and I can tell that she's coming close. A hand lands on the top of my head, fingers quickly embedding themselves amidst my hair, and yanks me forward, pressing me further into the place I already long to be. Now is where I start being very careful with my tongue, knowing that these are the essential minutes. Now that my love is where she is, I can keep her there for as long as I want. My tongue circles her thick, warm clit, letting it flick off my tongue to touch my teeth occasionally, just to keep her aware that they are there. My tongue twirls around and around her clitoris, faster and harder with each revolution, until her breath is ragged. Just when I hear that hint of desperation in her panting, I slow down before she comes. She squeals, of course, because by now she is controlled by animal instincts as much as her mind. Fortunately, I can keep on top of both, even if I'm on the bottom. My lips and tongue work up and down her pussy lips, and I jut my chin into her, giving her something to grind her hips against for a short while. When her cries have lost their sense of disappointment over nearly coming, I move in again, flicking my tongue across the very tip of her clit even as I dig my fingers into her soft ass. I'm teasing her, now, zapping her with quick, sharp sensations that make her shudder from loins to shoulders. Just before it gets gratuitous and downright ticklish, I drop my tongue down around her clit in earnest, wrapping it around her trilling sex, encircling and surrounding it with my quick, warm tongue. It's soothing, compared to the titillation I'd been subjecting her to a moment before, and she positively melts on top of me, joints and spine losing the tension and rigidity they had as she climbed towards orgasm a moment ago. She is, of course, climbing again, but slower, now, and I can hear, but not see, the slow, laconic smile of contentment on her face above me. I lift up my legs, touching them against her back, and her lax frame rests against them. I must look a little strange, but I learned long ago that that's the price one pays for sex. I lower my legs, taking her with me until she's laying against my legs at a forty-five degree angle, letting her rest on her own personal husband chaise lounge. As she slips down, her hips shift position, and her pussy tilts upwards, baring her clitoris for my easy access. I run my tongue up and down its length even as my hands slide up and down her sides. Each time my hands slide down, slow, subtle force pulls her close against me, bumping my chin against her vagina, grinding against her with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Slowly, her clitoris rises, straightens, lenghtens, until there isn't a difficulty in the world in finding it. She's ready. I tense my knees, which does nothing but alert her that something is up, and the anticipation alone is enough to make her pussy gush again. My tongue slides up the little shaft, hangs at the tip and hooks around, pulling down for one brief moment before slipping back down the length again. Her breath grows ragged, and her hands have found my thighs where they are lying directly below her, and she holds on. I shift my knees, bringing her pussy closer, and delicately close my lips around her clit. Slowly, my teeth follow suit, until her clit is carefully held between my teeth, at the utter mercy of my tongue. I begin in earnest, using my teeth as a backboard, lightly pressing her clit against my teeth with my tongue, running it up and down and around in a maddened absent rhythm, falling into no pattern but speed and constant, unrelenting sensation. Her body tenses and her hips lock; I open my jaws so she won't hurt herself, and begin flicking by tongue quickly side-to-side, using her clit's own engorgement as my resistance. She cries out and her hips start bucking; even with her hands clenched into my thighs, I'm careful to keep her body supported on my own legs as she twists and contorts under her orgasm. She tries to keep her pussy stationary, where I can get at it, but her body has other ideas, and soon I am playing one of my favorite games, ride the pussy, keeping my tongue on her clit as she bounces and shudders and grinds herself against me. Eventually, though, she slows down, and so do I, well aware of how oversensitive she'll be in just a moment. As she comes down from her high, so do I lower my legs until I am no longer supporting her, only under her, and wrap my arms around her hips and belly. "Mmmm, I love you, thank you," she murmurs, half-not-here. "Anytime," is my reply, and I give her one last full-tongued lick, which makes her convulse, before letting her drift off to sleep. |