Naughty Girl
I imagined we were both horny as hell, and alone in a cluttered garage in twilight. You were in your circus shirt and jeans, I in my jeans and a red halter- there was a table behind me.
I teased your ears while whispering naughty little sweetnesses, "I want you to lap at my pussy and wreak havoc upon my clit," or inviting seductions, "I want you. Play with me?" while tracing your chest, waist, stomach over your shirt, teasing you by sliding my fingers down the front of your jeans. It must be so uncomfortable to be locked up in them.
You kissed me, sliding your tongue in and out of my hot, wet mouth. Your hands are at my breasts, cupping them, circling my nipples, sliding your hand along my belly, hooking your fingers around my clit through my jeans. And all the while, you're drawing sounds from deep within me, pleading and inviting little moans.
You push me back onto the table, pushing my shirt up - I'm bra-less - tearing open my jeans and licking and kissing down my belly, pulling the obligatory panties down and off, and licking, teasing, kissing and sucking at my clit, while I pant, my hips pulse toward your hot mouth on their own accord and I'm being eaten by fire, want.
I imagined retaliating, pushing you back until you dropped over the arm of a sofa and landing squarly on soft cushioning. You watched wide-eyed as I tore off the halter and advanced upon you as the eager lover I am, naked and wet, saturated in full-fledged desire.
I crawl between your legs and lick up and down the shaft for lubrication, and then take you into my mouth, sucking gently at first, but increasing the pressure very slightly each time you moan. You like the build up, and I can see your legs tense slightly. My hands stroke the shaft before taking a hold and simulating movement, the rhythm of our hips, up and down, up and down. My tongue teases and flicks at the v at the base of the head, lapping and fondling the sensitive skin. Your breathing, gasping, moaning and looks of agonized pleasure spur me on, head moving in the figure 8, hands holding the shaft with interlocking fingers for more texture and sensation. I'm itching to try hot mouth, cold mouth on you, but you've had enough. You slide your hand under my chin and pull me into a burning kiss, and you lean me back.
It was you, circling the head down the wet, wet crevice of my pussy, teasing the clit, the hot and aching lips and ready canal. My body stretches as you teasingly enter, and enter, and enter until you're sinking into me. You force yourself to go slow, as though you're savoring each entrance and retreat. My arms are open to you, holding you, bringing you even closer to me, clinging to you as I move with you, panting, gasping, writhing.
Oh, Fizzles.