I don’t ask—I go down on her

I pull out, but before Abby can start moving (or ask me what position I want), I slide down her body and lap at her quim with a broad, flat tongue. I’m not planning to stick my tongue in her—I’ve never been so fond of my own cum as to eat it on purpose, though Rowan taught me well how to kiss a woman after she’s blown me—but there’s plenty else I can do. She’s soaking wet, and right now, all the juices are hers. Her flavor is muskier now than it was, and just as tasty. She writhes and squeaks as I lick her clean. “Oooooooh, Ben, no one’s ever done that—ooooooh, that’s good, that’s so fucking good . . .” she moans. I push two fingers inside her to replace my cock, corkscrewing them in and out of her reddened, dripping hole. “Yeah—yeah—yeah—” she pants, “fuck me with your fingers—that’s so good, baby, so fucking good . . .”

I suck one of Abby’s inner lips into my mouth, licking it all over, pulling on it, and nipping at it gently, enjoying the sounds of Abby mewling and clenching the sheet in her fists, then do the same to the other one before moving up to fasten my lips around her pearl. I suck the whole area gently into my mouth, licking it all over and probing it with my tongue. At the same time, I grab one of her perfect orbs, kneading her springy flesh and pinching its stiff pink tip. “Ohhhhhh, Ben,” she groans. “So good, so good, you do me so good . . . first you fuck me out of my mind, now you’re going down on me—fuck this feels incredible . . . no wonder my mother—” No wonder her mother what? I can’t help asking myself, then set my curiosity aside. If I ever find out, it won’t be now. “This is the fucking best, Ben, you’re the fucking best . . .”

I close my lips tighter around Abby’s pearl and suckle it like I’m hoping for milk; she gasps, then mewls when I start pulling and twisting her nipple. “I’m so fucking crazy horny, Ben, you’ve got me so fucking crazy high,” she says, her voice husky. “You fucked me so good, revved me up so high, now you’re sucking my little button—you blow my mind, Ben, you’re blowing my fucking mind . . . it’s too much—don’t stop . . . eat that little pink snatch, baby, suckle my button, pound me with your fingers—pound that little fucking cunt with your fingers—give me more, harder, pull my nipple harder, you’re driving me so fucking crazy I can’t take it I need to cum I need to cum I fucking need to cum . . .”

I stop thrusting with my fingers, leaving them palm-up, and curl them toward me, seeking her G-spot. I already know it’s not very prominent, but it’s very sensitive; when I find it, Abby gasps, “That’s it, that’s the spot, that’s my sweet spot—so good . . . I’ve never felt like this before—you’ve made sex all new—you make me feel like a virgin all over again—fuck, Ben, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, I’ve wanted you so long—I’m all yours, I’m at your mercy, I need your mouth, need your fingers, need your cock—you’ve got me so close . . . taste me, feel me, claim me, own me, baby, make me cum, I’ll do anything just please make me cum . . . suckle my button, finger my tight little teenage hole, make me cum, don’t stop make me cum—make me cum on your fingers, make me cum on your face—so good so close don’t don’t don’t stop—”

I suck hard on Abby’s button like I’m trying to suck a watermelon through a straw and start humming the bass line to “Bring Down the Birds.” Her orgasm erupts like Vesuvius with a high, thin shriek. She writhes and thrashes under me, grinding her snatch into my face, and her tight young cunt goes crazy around my fingers, squeezing them in a very firm grip indeed. I keep sucking her clit and rubbing her G-spot as pleasure fires her nerves in wild abandon. I have her—almost literally—in the palm of my hand.