Laying back against the couch, your legs stretched out across the floor from where your hips sit at the edge of the cushion, your eyes close in the late afternoon sun. Jeans cling to you, tempting me where they hug your form and end at your waist, giving way to the shirt that caresses your chest and shoulders. Taking your hand, I lift it to my lips, watching the smile on your face as my kisses brush the length of your fingers. Now with both your hands in mine, I bring them up along the back of the couch, behind your head, as I lean in. Quiet breath curls along your ear as you hear me whisper:
“Keep your eyes closed…”
You obey, and my breath, my touch, disappears for the moment, reappearing at your waist as lips nuzzle the hem of your shirt away, revealing the curve of your navel to my kisses, to slow strokes of my fingertips… soft brushings that trace spirals upon your skin and send tingles though your body… up your spine… and back down to curl your toes.
Kisses nibble along your waist above your jeans as you feel my hands slide down along your legs to rub quietly up, then down. Slow squeezes knead your inner thighs, then change to the press of fingertips that draw down against the tight denim in a firm, careful scratch. Another lick graces your skin moments before the button of your jeans is undone, and my teeth find the zipper, drawing it down to the bottom, nuzzling you with the motion…
Denim is peeled away, exposing the silk beneath in a V below your navel. Black, smooth, and warm to my lips, I begin to caress you through the thin material. Kisses brush your name across your warmth. Breath slips barely through to excite the flesh beyond, and as I moan from the offering rise of your hips, my hands begin to draw your jeans down, ever so slowly, revealing the luxury of your skin.
Your eyes remain closed, still obeying, hips lifting while the denim slides away. Along your thigh I lay my cheek. A wet tongue flitters across your delicate skin…deftly slipping in waves over the expanse of your inner thighs. The jeans are at your ankles now, then kicked off gently, and your legs are free to spread, guided by my palms. Silk grows warmer, graced with the scent of your eagerness, and delicate strokes of my fingertips.
You taste exquisite along its edges, the tip of my tongue tracing the curve where your thigh meets your hip—slow, wet muscle teasing beneath the fabric to whisper intimate sensations closer and closer. Through your closed eyelids you somehow still feel my gaze looking up at you, watching the pleasure in your face, the way you lick your lips, the flutter of your pulse in your neck, and your rising flush of pleasure. You know I am watching, as you know how much I love your pleasure… My hands continue to adore your legs, your skin, your muscles, your shape…sliding over you…back and forth…all the while licking the edge of the fabric that covers you: such a small barrier to your cravings.
With a slip of my thumbs, the silk is stolen away. Cool air and warm breath slip down over the bare desire between your legs and you lay back, vulnerable, wanting. The first kiss to touch your heat steals a gasp from your lips, arching your body as muscles tighten and places deep inside you twist in wicked excitement. My hands tighten against your legs as your need to wrap them takes you, reflexively, and a slow mouth enjoys you.
Inch by inch, you edge yourself forward, spine melting with a smooth lance of fire that runs up your back and surges heat through your body. Your need pulses between your thighs, lapped smoothly, licked, adored by my mouth. My moans hum against you, and your own sounds fall from your lips in wordless pleasure that only makes me want more. Our moans begin to dance, a rhythm of sound, exciting the other, fueled by the other. We’re feeding on pleasure, hungry for more with every mouthful.
Languid strokes of passionate muscle taste you, delve inside you, and steadily grow stronger. Swirls that slip around you build, flickering, stroking, and tasting more. Your body moves as you begin to lose yourself, hips rocking, hands searching for more. Almost uncontrollably, you’re pushing yourself in needful, greedy, passionate offering to be tasted, taken, filled. Need and pleasure builds higher, higher, leaving you gasping for breath as you teetering at the edge of the cliff, taken by my mouth, by greedy, rubbing fingertips until you plunge over that cliff with a cry, wrapped in a blaze of pleasure that sunders your body.
As you finally open your eyes, you see mine, dark and now burning with need for you, from the pleasure of tasting you.
Wanting you.
Now.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/fwwp0x/beneath_your_jeans_f_oral