Cheer her up

I get up and approach her from behind. Slow, telegraphed moves, like approaching an anxious kitten. I put my hands on her shoulders, measuring her response. She jumps involuntarily, for a split second, but she relaxes right away. I run my hands down her arms, careful so that I always slide across the outside of her limbs. Her hands hang idly by her sides, as I pick up where she left off, buttoning her shirt up.

I put my chin on her shoulder, my gaze staring straight ahead out the open window. “Hey,” I whisper.

“Hi.”

“You missed me?” Four buttons left.

“You have no idea.” Three.

“Oh, but I do.” Two.

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” One.

“Watch me.”

I lean forward for a second, wrap my arms around her knees and lower back and pick her up. I take her to the couch, she laughs. I sit on her lap, and wrap my hands around her face. I push her short hair out of the way, her lips part slightly, her red tongue peeking behind her teeth. I lean in catching her bottom lip between my own. I breathe her in; salty like the open sea, sweet like a forbidden fruit. I bite her lip playfully, she lets out a sigh and goes in for the kiss. Her mouth is warm, and wet, her tongue slips past my teeth as she tastes me, and I taste her back.

Bryn’s hands go up my body, but they settle on my chest pretty quick. She cups my breasts over my shirt, her mouth curves up into a grin at my lack of bra. She traces their shape, their size, almost too big for her palms. She’s shy, sheepishly massaging them, with the tiniest hint of a squeeze ever so often. My nipples grow hard, harder than the cold already made them, but she ignores them. I give her tongue a light tap with my teeth, then I pull out. She whines and tries to follow me, but I push her back.

I look into her eyes, the ice has melted into fierce oceans. There is hunger, there is rage. Her jaw hangs, her mouth half open, her brow frowns, and her breath is heavy. She squeezes my breasts hard, and I let out a sharp sigh.

“How long has it been?” I ask her, wincing from the pain.

“Too fucking long.”

I split my lips into a toothy grin. “What, the boys too busy?”

She takes a hand from my chest and brings it to my face. She cups my cheeks and squishes my face, my playful expression changing into an amusing in its own right smushed duck face.

“I don’t want the boys.” She pushes my chin away playfully. Then delivers a much less whimsical slap that’d send my face spinning if not for my neck getting in the way. The sting of the strike spreads through my body. My face burns as hot blood rushes up, the fire spreads out and down my body.

“Bitch,” I whisper with a smile. “We don’t have time for that.”

“Get to it then. Chop-chop.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I jump from her lap, she lets go of my boob with a displeased sigh. I slip my fingers down the waistband of her loose wool pants, feeling no underwear underneath. I cock an eyebrow at her as I pull them down, she scoffs.

“We both knew we’d end up here, sooner or later.”

“Whatever you say, man,” I pretend to roll my eyes.

Her mount is messy, a tuft of wild honey blonde pubes grows out of it, but the rest of the vulva is clean. Her outer lips are thick, almost hiding her inner ones from sight. They’d be completely invisible if not for their disarmingly bright pink color, almost as intense as a strawberry during her arousal. The hood of her clitoris is long and thin, curving nicely around her erect glans. Her labia is engorged, but not quite wet yet.

I gather saliva in my mouth, wetting my lips with my tongue, as I go in. Her pants are rolled down to her knees, her legs spread as far as they go, and a little further thanks to the loose waistband. Just enough space for my head to fit between her thighs, thankfully slender enough to not crush my skull. I close my eyes as I begin my work, my wet tongue licking up from the base of her vulva to the tip of her clit. She hisses as I make contact with her sensitive glans, her back arches and she shifts her position on the couch.

I run my hands up her thighs, my fingers sink in her ass as I pull her in, and push myself deeper. My nose brushes against her mount, my bottom lip rubs against her lower vulva, and my tongue splits her folds apart as it goes up and down in wide hungry laps. There is the lubrication, her excitement leaks on my tongue, burning the back and side edges of my tongue with its flavor. I pull back just a little, switching the tonguing for slow deep kisses across her labia. She sighs, her thighs moving as her arousal mounts. Goosebumps ebb and flow, her hair stand in full attention. I take her inner lips between mine and suckle on them and she gasps, her legs squeezing around my head.

She’s getting close; I hear it in her voice, I taste it on her lips, and I feel it on the way she throbs and bucks against my mouth. Her juice spills in a heavier flow, and a dollop of thick white cream concentrates at the edge of her entrance. For the crescendo, I get my tongue back in the game, this time higher. I lick circles around her clit with the tip of my tongue, deliberate, precise movements gliding as close to her sensitive nub as possible without making direct contact. My lips caress her labia, my hands sink into her buttocks, holding her still as she tries to back away, the pleasure almost too grave for her to take. And it is too much. Enough to drive her wild as her moans turn into cries of reckless abandon, as her hands come to dig into my skull and pull on my hair, as she throws her head back and braces herself for the tempest.

I try to hold her still, I try to keep my licks steady, but there is no caging this beast when it awakens. She flexes her glutes and momentarily my grip slips, just enough for her mount to escape my mouth. Her orgasm hits, liquids spilling out, as she humps my face. Her shrieks pierce my ears, her legs shake from the overexertion as they desperately try to close, and her knuckles on my hair go white.

It feels like minutes, but she finally calms down and collapses, panting like she just ran a marathon. I grab the chance to slip out from between her legs, her juices dripping from my face. I climb up and crash next to her on the couch, wiping my face off on my shirt.

She doesn't bother pulling up her pants, instead, she shifts positions, laying her head on my lap.

“You got to stop pulling that shit without asking,” she says, between heavy breaths.

“Come on, you love it when I do you hard.”

“I love it more when my pussy’s not in pain afterwards.”

“Honey, if your lover can stand after you are done with them, you are not done with them.”

She chuckles. “I’d beg to differ. You’ve put me at least half an hour behind on my paperwork.”

“And your screams let everyone in the valley know. You sure you’d rather be spending your time writing reports right now?”

She laughed, pretending to think about it for a moment. “We are throwing a feast later tonight. If I miss it, I’m putting a chastity belt on you.”

I smile, but I genuinely can’t tell if she’s joking or not.

“Well, the C word’s my cue to leave.”

I grab a pillow that had fallen to the floor while I was eating her out, and gently replace my lap with it under her head.

“We’ll catch up later.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

I squat to leave a gentle kiss on her forehead, and turn around. I exit the room, closing the door behind me.