You waited until I’d gotten on the freeway to fuck with my head. It started simple enough — first you reclined the seat back a bit, then stretched your legs. It wasn’t until you’d started lifting up your dress that I’d realized what was happening. You hiked it up slowly, watching for my reaction along the way. It was hard to keep my eye on the road; you were getting so close to the end. That’s when I noticed your big surprise — you weren’t wearing any underwear.
Your pussy was freshly waxed, and as you sat up to pull your dress completely under you, I could hear how turned on you were, the sound of your lips rubbing against each other, so wet. You rubbed your clit, then slid your fingers inside yourself; you didn’t really need to, you knew you’d be getting my cock soon enough, but you wanted to watch me squirm, especially when you took your fingers out and held them in front of me, then spread your fingers so that I could see how just sticky they were. And, of course, when you put them in your mouth and sucked on them, both at first, then one at a time for good measure.
“Don’t you just love the way my pussy tastes?” you said.
All I could do was shake my head. You hadn’t let me try it before licking it all for yourself.
Within seconds your legs were spread, your feet were resting on the dash, and I could hear that you were back to touching yourself. When you slid two fingers back inside you and curved them up to fuck your g-spot, the sound you made left me hard enough to have to readjust and I knew we had to get home. I’m not one for speeding, but were going 25 over the limit the rest of the way. If a cop were to pull us over, well, at least I’d have an excuse. You were moaning that loudly.
I shut the lights off before we’d even pulled into the driveway, threw the car in park and pressed my lips against yours so hard I thought we’d fuse together.
“I want you so bad,” I said.
You smiled, then shrugged.
“Maybe,” you replied.
I unbuckled my seatbelt, alighted the car and walked around to open your door. But when you tried to exit, I pushed you back, forced back down and spread your legs wide. You weren’t expecting it — I’d managed to turn the tables on you — and I buried my face between your legs while you were still trying to catch your balance. You lips were soft and slick, and your taste was sweet and sharp at the same time.
“Fuck, baby…” I doubt you even knew you were speaking.
It was nighttime, sure, but only 11 p.m. and the motion sensor had turned the patio light on. If anyone had bothered to look out their kitchen window, they’d have been treated to a show — me on my knees in front of an open car door, your legs twitchy wrapped around my head.
I picked you up and you straddled me all the way to the door. Once inside, I let you go and you immediately dropped to my knees. You unbuttoning my pants but stopped short of lowering the zipper. You took your hand felt my hard cock through your pants, tracing the outline against my slacks. Then you looked up at me. We made eye contact. I smiled and threw my head back— how had I gotten so lucky?
You pulled my pants down and took my boxer-briefs with them, grabbed the base of my cock and took it into your mouth as if there wasn’t another moment to spare. You were voracious, wrapping your lips around my shaft and forcing it as far as you could, until it hit the back of your mouth. You held it there, then pulled back out and gasped for air, a string of saliva running from the head of my cock to your lips.
“I just need to feel your hard cock inside my mouth, against my lips,” you said, spitting on my dick and stroking it with your right hand. Then you went right back to work. It was unreal, the way you tried to devour me, again and again, but never getting passed the back of your mouth. I reached down and slid my fingers into your hair, then pulled you closer. I could hear you gag as you took me your throat, but the way your hands grabbed my ass and pulled you toward me told me that we were on the same page. Another break for air. I could see your eyes are watering, but the way your stroking your cock and smiling at me — not polite smile, more of challenging one, a smile that says “Is that all you’ve got?” — says you want more. Whatever doubt, whatever reservations I had left disappeared a second later.
“I thought you were gonna fuck my mouth?” you said. “This is nothing.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, fuck you,” I said, gripping a handful of hair. And as I did, you grabbed my ass and pulled yourself toward me, accepting the challenge.
It’s too much, though. If we keep it up, I won’t make it the hallway, let alone the bed room. I pull you off of me and up onto your feet, then shove your toward the couch.
“I want you to spread your ass and pussy for me,” I said. “Show me what’s mine.”
Your heels make a clack-clack sound on the hardwood as your step toward the couch, then you hike your dress up above your hips, bend over the arm of the couch, reach back and spread yourself open for me.
“Like this?” you ask.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know.” I say.
“Is this what you like to see? Me spreading my pussy for you?”
“Whose pussy?”
You smile.
“Yours,” you say.
“Your goddamn right,” I say. “You look so fucking good.”
“I want you inside me.”
“Yea?” I ask, walking toward you.
“I need you inside me,” you say.
“How bad?”
Spank.
“Mmm… so bad.”
Spank.
“So fucking bad,” you clarify.
I slap your ass again, then run my hand between your cheeks, sliding over your wet pussy and up the crack until my hand is on your lower back.
“Too bad,” I say. “Not yet”
I wrap my hand around your waste and pull you toward me. We’re standing now. I brush the hair to the side, exposing your skin so that I can kiss your neck softly, peppering it with lightly as I make my way to your ear. I nibble on the lobe, then whisper my confession.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I say. “Sometimes I just don’t know what to do…”
You turn your head to kiss me, and as we do, your body follows. Now we’re face to face, tongues pressing against each other, arms wrapped around each other, embracing each other. The world around us no longer exists.
After a moment, I slide the zipper down your dress and crumples neatly on the floor. You’re just in my garter belt and stockings. I loosen my tie until it comes off, then wrap it around your hands, which I’ve lightly pinned behind you. I walk around you, taking you in. Your body, so beautiful. So perfect. My favorite. Behind you now, I kiss your neck, then that spot— the one on your shoulder. I check the knot, then run my hands from your hips to your stomach to my breasts, squeezing them, pinching your nipples. You can feel my hard cock pressed against your bum. I step back and let you take it into your hands. It’s killing you to not be able to watch as your stroke it. I take my right hand and slide my fingers inside you. That’s how we remain. Your head turned, kissing me while I slide my fingers inside you and you stroke me. Then you stop and ask, ever so politely:
“Now, please?”
How can I resist such a sweet face?
“Of course,” I say.
I place my hand on the small of your back and lead you toward the wall, then lightly touch your thighs, guiding your to spread them for me. Your about a foot from the wall, and you lean your upper body toward it, bracing yourself for what’s about to happen. I don’t even have to bother spitting on myself — my cock slides in so easily.
It’s been a while since we were last together, and while you’ve basked in the memories of our previous trips, nothing can truly prepare you for the moment when you remember how thick my cock is; it sneaks up on you, and you wince a bit as it finds a home in that tight, warm pussy of yours.
“Go slow, please. I’m not ready.”
I lean forward and kiss you on your shoulder.
“Of course, baby.”
And I do go slow, taking my time as I work my cock into your pussy, sometimes just the tip, other times all the way to the base of the shaft. It helps that I can pull you toward me by your bound hands. It feels so good I almost don’t hear you when you say, “Okay, fuck me.” Almost.
I grab you by the hair and pull your toward me as I start to pick up speed. At first, all you can manage to say is, “Yes, oh fuck yes,” but within moments even that limited vocabulary gives way to deep moans and grunts from some primal place you never even knew you had. The sound of my body slapping against yours grows louder and louder and I know that you’re starting to feel it because you keep trying to squirm away from me. “I want you to come for me,” you say. “Shut up and take it,” I tell you. And even though it scares you that I won’t stop, you love that I want you so bad that stopping just isn’t an option. The sweat is running down my face and dripping onto your ass, and I’m glad that I’ve been doing cardio because I don’t plan on slowing down. “Fuck, baby — I’ve missed this pussy so much,” I mumble. “Show me,” you say. “Trust me,” I respond. “I will. Real soon.” I try to keep it going, but the truth is that I’ve been lucky to get this far. Between how beautiful you looked tonight, to how we kissed at the restaurant, to the car ride home, I’ve been aching for you. And now we’re in the middle of the house, fucking against the wall, and it’s all I can do to not come. But finally it’s too much, and I have to pull out. You instinctively turn around and drop to your knees, take me into your mouth. It feels fucking incredible. And just before you make me go, you take me out your mouth.
“I want you to go on my face,” you say.
“Seriously?”
“I’d help you, but I’m a little tied up.”
I start to stroke my cock, alternating between my hand and your mouth for a few seconds. But only for a few seconds, because it’s not long before I can feel the pressure welling up inside me. You lick my balls and take them into your mouth as I stroke, until finally I stop you.
“Baby, I’m gonna come.”
“Do it,” you say. “I want it.”
I keep stroking with my right hand while you wait for me. Finally I take my left hand and tilt your head back a bit.
“Here it comes…”
And it does. All over you. It’s a bit of a mess, really. The first spurt misses completely, shooting out so fast and so hard that it only catches a bit of your forehead and hair before hitting the wall. But the rest find their mark. It’s warm and sticky against your skin, and the little that gets into your mouth is salty in a way you’d forgotten. But you can see how great I feel, and you remember how much you love to watch me come, and in this moment you enjoy how deliciously dirty it is for me to mark my territory like this, for you to let yourself be taken so thoroughly.
I finally stop shaking.
“Wow,” you say. “That’s a lot.”
You lean forward and suck the last of it from the tip of my cock.
“You’re amazing,” I say. Or at least I think I said it. I’m pretty much useless right now and the most I can manage is to slur.
You laugh.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you say.
I laugh too.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” I say. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/2lcbad/our_last_valentines_day_mf