Not yet, but it’s Heather’s fault

“I want to make you cum as many times as I can, baby,” I tell Heather, “and I want to spend as much time inside your sweet pussy as possible.” She moans softly, lust sparkling in her eyes. “So I want to hold off cumming as long as I can.” I pull out slowly and reach between her legs, stroking her pussy lips and teasing her clit; she mewls and rubs against me. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind?” Heather groans. “That’s so hot . . .” She stands up, reaches behind me to take my hand, and leads me the rest of the way up the stairs.

When we get near her room, she suddenly turns, spins me around, pushes me back against the wall, and drops almost bonelessly to her knees. Before I quite know what’s going on, she’s swallowed my prick, burying her face in my pubic hair, and her tongue is sneaking out to curl around my balls. I lean my head back and groan in my turn, low and guttural, as her throat muscles pulse and ripple around my shaft. After several moments, Heather pulls all the way off, gasps for air, then lowers her head to engulf one of my balls with her lips. She sucks on it very lightly, rolling it on her tongue, and reaches up to wank my slick rod. When she shifts to my other ball, I groan again, then say huskily, “I thought you wanted your bed . . .”

Heather opens her mouth, but doesn’t say anything at first, preferring to let her tongue play over both balls. After a while, she says with a smirk, “That doesn’t count for blowjobs. I prefer this position when I’m sucking my man’s cock.”

“Does that include 69?” I manage to ask.

Her eyes flash. Her voice thick with hunger, she says, “I’ve never tried it.” Then curiosity lights her face and she asks, “Have you?”

“A few times, with gymnasts,” I tell her. “They loved it—something about the adrenaline rush and all the blood flowing to their head. They don’t weigh much, though.”

“We’ll have to find a way,” Heather growls, then wraps her lips around my cockhead. She moves her head all around it, caressing it with her lips, then closes her mouth and sucks gently, licking it all over. She turns her head sideways and runs it up and down my shaft, sticking out her tongue to curl it around me, fondling my balls with one hand. When she goes back to sucking on my mushroom—a little harder this time—she brings up the other hand to pump my rod.

I can feel my balls boiling. “I’m close, baby,” I gasp.

Heather stops sucking me long enough to say, “Good,” in a voice of smug satisfaction. “I want some say in when and how often you cum, too. Cum in my mouth, lover. Let me taste your cream. Don’t hold back, baby—give me everything . . .” Her lips close around my head again and she suckles it, running the tip of her tongue up and down the groove.

Almost immediately, I feel the crest of my orgasm approach. “I’m cumming, Heather—I’m—cummming—” The wave breaks with stunning force, spraying burst after burst of cum into her mouth. She guzzles it with rapt enjoyment . She can’t quite keep up, so a little leaks out of the corners of her mouth, but not much.

When I collapse back against the wall with a long groan, Heather releases me and licks her lips. “That was even better than I dreamed,” she says softly. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” I say, my voice as shaky as my legs.

Heather stands up and takes my hand. “You look like your knees are about to give out on you,” she says. “I’ll take that as a compliment, but you should probably sit down—or lie down.” She pulls me forward and leads me through the open door into her bedroom.