An artist at play

Daniel lay on the unvacuumed floor of his own bedroom, amongst the piles of dirty boxers, discarded tissues and stale, half-empty energy drink cans. Looking across at this vision who had emerged from pre-dawn darkness and was now unbuckling his trousers. Everything still felt too unreal to believe, even as the press of her weight and touch of her fingers washed over him. Yet there was a tinge of vulnerability as she unlocked and dragged open those layers of protection. A sense that this could still potentially turn out to be a nightmare, not a fantasy at all. The girl looked distinctly feline as she hunched in the shadows; a lithe predator drawing ever closer to exposing his most delicate appendages. Dan almost shivered as his underwear was finally drawn down, and he felt the warm breath of a stranger against what lay within.

It stood already at full mast… as in all honesty it had from the very moment he saw the beautiful creature in her entirely unsubtle outfit. He felt cool fingers wrap themselves around the base without any hesitation. Felt them cup the short-furred bag of his testicles and gently test the weight of each, as if judging their heft against the possibility of heaven. From that darkness beyond his understanding there emerged the white flash of a grin. One that seemed to know just how taut were the tenterhooks she had him on, and how literally she held his fate in the palm of her hands. She leaned forward and simply blew a little: hot breath somehow also cooling as it played up and down the length of him. Daniel felt answering churns and aches deep in the pits of both his loins and his chest. Great cogs clunking hollowly in primal machines he’d never felt move before.

When she finally let her tongue loll out to grace itself against him, the relief was palpable. Its soft, wet embrace travelled languidly, coiling slightly around the cylindrical nature of its target. Her recipient felt his inward breath fall naturally in line with that slow, careful progress… catching and holding one long, dragging gasp. At the top, she planted a kiss: Tiny, dainty and brief. Lingering in the silent intensity of the moment for just a scant few seconds… Then she proceeded to engulf the swollen head in its entirety, sucking that bulbous lump into a cheek in a way that was anything but delicate.

For the next few minutes Daniel was lost in a world of intense focus and crashing sensation. Hypnotised by the slurping relish in which his cock was being devoured. The girl drove her face downwards onto the spit of him, again and again and again. He could feel the clutch of her throat as it claimed him, then the pull of applied suction as she drew back. Her tongue continued to dance around every interaction, squirming and rolling and playing at his nerves. Her hands worked lower on the shaft, guiding its movements and anticipating her own rhythm. For all the nothing he knew about this stranger, one thing was clear: this was most certainly not the first sword she’d swallowed. Even in his own inexperience, the boy could recognise an artist plying the mastery of her skill and could do nothing in reply but lie back in wonder.

It really wasn’t long before he could feel a coiled spring of tension tightening within him. A pressure building towards inevitable expulsion. The gulping, gurgling demon working at his lower extremities could clearly feel it too, however… and immediately ceased her activities.

“Oh no.” She smirked, saliva drooling down her chin. “We’re not done yet…”