A very special session

Once Connie opens the door, all I can do is stare. She’s wearing a slinky emerald-green robe, tied in the front, that covers everything and leaves little to the imagination. At least, it could cover everything, if she wanted it to; she has it tied right below her breasts, emphasizing them, and the neckline is open fairly low, revealing a considerable expanse of delicious cleavage. She’s added a bit of wave to her hair, just enough to make it ripple. I goggle, and she gives me a satisfied smile. “That’s the reaction I was going for,” she says in a sultry voice. “Come in, Andrew.” Connie turns and walks into the apartment, swaying her hips and wagging her amazing ass as she goes. I kick off my shoes and follow her—how could I not?

As usual, Connie hands me the money on the way through the kitchen. She leads me into the bedroom, where a couple candles are lit; there’s also some light from glass-block windows high in the wall. Without turning around, she unties the robe and lets it slide from her shoulders. I gasp. She’s wearing matching lace lingerie in a jewel-toned red, complete with matching red heels—which I hadn’t noticed because I was too distracted by her cleavage and her ass. She has on what I think is a bustier, and a G-string that ties at the hips. Over the G-string is a garter belt holding up a pair of fishnet stockings, and then the heels. She hears my reaction, then bends forward slightly and waggles her ass at me. “Ohhh, Andrew, that’s definitely the reaction I was going for. Do you think I have a sexy ass?” she adds in a mock-plaintive tone.

I step up behind her and start massaging her ass cheeks. Connie wriggles against me, then says, “There’s a better way to do that, you know.” She turns around, and I goggle again. The bustier was clearly built more to flaunt her tits than to cover them, as it displays them like priceless treasures on a bed of red lace. The cups lift her breasts (not that she needs the help), and leave an amazing amount of her tawny skin visible. Her nipples are under the fabric, but just barely; quite a bit of her pebbly light-brown areolae is visible above the tops of the cups, and the nipples are discernible through the cups. The neckline (if that’s the right word) dips so deep between her curvy beauties that I can see some of their undersides.

“I believe you were doing something with my ass,” Connie says in a smoldering voice. She grabs my hands and pulls them behind her, then purrs happily when I resume groping her. She reaches up to my head and draws my lips down to hers, kissing me hungrily. I kiss her back, enjoying her passion, and pull her into my raging erection as I fondle her cheeks. She moans into my mouth, then murmurs, “Those pants need to go.” I let her pull back while she undoes my belt and pulls down my jeans; then I step out of them. Before I can move, she says, “So does that shirt—I want to see your chest.” I help her take it off over my head; she throws it aside and plays with my nipples as I pull her hips close again. She moans and rubs her (barely) panty-covered snatch against my boxers.

To this point, Connie has stoked my lust too well for me to think about anything else; but my brain catches up with me. “Connie, should you really be doing this with me? Your boyfriend—”

“Ssshhh,” she says, laying a finger across my lips. “Questions later. Now is for me.” Connie kisses me again, hard and deep, preventing me from saying anything, then reaches down into my boxers and wraps her hand around my cock. She plays with it, stroking and squeezing it as her tongue explores my mouth. She turns, moving me with her, then backs me against the bed; she breaks off and pushes me down. Her bed is stripped down to the fitted sheet, and the pillow is nowhere to be seen, so it’s not hard to guess what she wants. I arrange myself on the bed, and Connie straddles my face with her hands against the wall.

At first, I stroke her sides and back while I nuzzle and lick at her panty-covered mound. Her clit is already erect enough to tent the fabric, so I trace it with my tongue and caress it with my lips. That surprises Connie for some reason; she gasps and cries out, “Fuck, Andrew, that’s good! Ohhh, fuck, suck my clit.” (Did I mention that her inhibitions are a lot lower now?) I leave her clit, though, and she whimpers a little; I run my tongue down her slit to the point where her G-string disappears into her wet heat. As I dip it into her twat to taste her tangy-sweet juices, she starts moaning again and rocking her hips, riding my face.

At this point, I decide Connie has too much fabric on. Since her G-string is tied on in neat bows, it’s no work at all to pull the knots loose. She raises herself off my face so I can remove her flimsy panties, moaning, “That’s right, baby. That’s right. Get rid of those panties and eat that pussy right.” She continues to slide her hips back and forth as I kiss her lips and lick her forth and back, using various pressures and various parts of my tongue to paint and caress her twat. When she slides particularly far forward, I take advantage and jab my tongue up into her draining cunt. She calls out in surprise and sits down hard on my mouth. She writhes and gyrates above me as I perform various tongue exercises inside her. “Fuck me with your tongue, Andrew,” she moans. “Eat me from the inside. Fuck that hot little pussy with your sweet tongue.”

I reach up to fondle her tits through the bustier, but I don’t feel like settling for that. It clasps in the front, so I try to undo the first one. I can’t manage it from this position, so Connie takes her hands off the wall for a moment and does it for me, then pops her tits out of her lingerie. They hang over the fabric, creating a sexy picture from down below. I grab them both firmly and thumb her nipples hard; she gasps and bucks her hips, then goes back to riding my face.

That lasts only until her big clit comes within reach of my mouth; I suck it in as deep as I possibly can and lash it with my tongue, pinching her nipples hard as I do. That sends Connie into orbit. She pushes her clit hard into my face and yells, “Fuck yeah—fuck yeah, baby—squeeze my tits harder—suck my clit, suck my clit, suckmyclit . . . harder—deeper—more—moremoremore . . .” I suckle her clit eagerly, swirling my tongue around it, and roll her nipples against my thumbs. “So good, so good, sofuckinggood—suck me harder, I’m so fucking close—have me so wild—” I close my teeth a little so that they scrape her little mushroom as I suckle it wildly, and her orgasm hits her like a freight train. Her head arches back, thrusting her tits forward, and she grinds herself against my face as she screams my name. I suckle her clit as fast as I possibly can as she writhes above me in ecstasy; her juices flow down my jaw and neck.

After such a titanic orgasm, I expect Connie to settle down beside me, but instead her urgency seems only to have increased. She spins off me, turning 180°, and says, “I need these boxers out of the way.” We haven’t tried 69ing yet, but that’s clearly what she has in mind. I lift my hips, and she pulls off my boxers. Then, to my further surprise, she rolls over on her back. “Cum on, stud,” she says in a voice of raw lust. “Fuck my mouth while you eat me out.” That shocks me, actually, because she’s never had enough self-confidence to be that submissive, if that makes any sense. The fact that she’s doing this now, for me, is a real turn-on.

I arrange myself above her, poising my throbbing rod over her waiting lips as I dive back into her slick, hungry twat. She’s incredibly wet from her previous orgasm, and I lap greedily at her quim. “Fuck my mouth, Andrew,” Connie gasps, and I push my prick into her mouth. She moans around my girth as I circle her big pearl with my tongue, but she matches me lick for lick, sucking on my rod and tonguing the head as I pump her mouth. She squeezes my ass with one hand, fondling my balls with the other.

After several thrusts, Connie pulls down hard on my ass. I pull my prick out of her face and ask, “You want it deeper, sexy?”

She moans and says, “Fuck yeah, stud. Fuck my throat. Take me hard—I’m ready.”

Hearing Connie say that makes me moan, too. I suck her clit back into my mouth, teasing its tip with my tongue, and start thrusting again. I still go slowly, but now I drive myself as far in as I can go. I’m surprised how easily she swallows me, given the deliriously tight squeeze of her throat. I groan into her twat every time I feel her throat muscles clenching on my cockhead. I pick up speed on her clit, sucking it deeper and lashing it with my tongue, and start humming the bass line to Herbie Hancock’s “Bring Down the Birds.”

Connie’s orgasm hits suddenly; she starts thrashing under me, and swallows hard on my cock. That, plus the gush of her juices into my face, triggers my climax. I sheathe myself to the hilt in her face and roar into her twat as I fire rope after rope of cum straight down her throat. I retain just enough self-control to pull out of her throat as soon as I stop cumming; I try to pull out all the way, but she captures my cockhead with her lips and won’t let me go. She sucks on the head and licks it all over as it gradually softens its way out of her mouth.

“Kiss me,” she demands. I turn myself around and lean down to give her a light kiss, but she pulls my head tight and kisses me deeply, with plenty of tongue; with my pussy-flavored mouth and her cum-painted tongue, it’s almost as if we’re fucking by proxy. We kiss for a while, enjoying each other’s mouths, then Connie breaks off and says, “Andrew, I need to tell you something.”