I’ve been eating out of this woman for over twenty minutes. At some point, my tongue had shed fat and grown abs and could bench press a cow. However, as most artists would attest to, perfection cannot be rushed. Plus, I’m not complaining. With the view I was given, I’d be glad to work on her cunt for twenty more minutes.
She had smooth, tanned brown skin that glistened under the hotel's soft lights. It wrapped around an athletic figure that had the calibre to wring cum out of any straight, red-blooded man like a towel and then some. I watched her cleavage rise and fall in hypnotizing, rhythming charm. Petite, supple, soft, fluffy; words that ran across my mind as I stared at them. Minute by minute, I find my eyes drawn to its mass and shape and weight till my eyes could no longer focus on anywhere else but her breasts.
If it weren’t enough, freckles spread across her body in an explosive pattern that reached down to her thighs. Contrary to my expectations, added much more to her appearance. They were like sprinkles to a cupcake that gave an air of erotic exoticism to her already alluring physique. They spread across her neck, dotting across her breasts and shoulders as they reached down to her hips.
I watched the gunshow as she sat at the foot of the hotel bed. Her crotch spread wide with my lips lodged against it as I did my job kneeling over the hotel floor. If it wasn’t enough stimulation, she had her legs locked around my head. Under normal circumstances, I would be worried, especially with this particular woman’s legs.
Somehow or rather, they had the privilege to be bestowed athleticism and femininity at the same time. A union that, in my opinion, was as unholy as it was rapturous. Her inner thigh mushed against my cheeks, giving me the full experience of her legs. It felt as if I had dove into a sea of cold pillows. Her soft skin would send the most raucous of babies into a wakeless slumber. Beneath it, however, were muscles trained by years of Track and Field Club experience, hardened over miles of rubber, asphalt and concrete. For confirmation, I snuck a few touches around her thighs and calves as I ate her senseless. After the fifth touch, I was convinced these legs could juice fruits through flexing alone, and that my head was basically a peeled orange under their mercy.
Yet, the thought of escape never once graced my mind. If I did, all I needed to do was look up to her tits again.
Even still, if I was truly compelled to leave for my survival, my legs would go, but my arms wouldn’t budge, as they were locked beneath her legs, fondling her bare ass.
It was beyond this world. It was an ethereal sensation one could only acknowledge through their hands alone. Only a deity would construct a posterior this compact and elastic to the touch; as soft as marshmallow, yet as malleable as dough. It filled my hand as I cupped my palms over her cheeks and gripped them. A little came spilling out from between my fingers, so much so that my instincts were convinced that all that’s needed to fully conquer her small, brown butt was a further reach. Yet, no matter how I positioned my hands, there was always a little more I couldn't reach. It toyed with my primitive pride that resided in my male brain, roaring in competitive rage over an adversary it was just this close to overcoming. Somehow or rather, that endless contest translated into more nefarious emotions, churning chemicals in my brain that sent my cock higher than a skyscraper.
Fuck me, the view itself already sent me harder than tungsten. If I was in cloud nine, which I am at the time, my meat shaft would be in nirvana. Those were the results I got from sight alone. Engaging with it whilst utilizing the other four senses, however, transported my junior to a different realm. With each conscious move I made on her ass, my body could cram more blood into my meaty obelisk. Standing upon its shaven foundations, swelling, hot, masculine juices would boil and surge within my dick as my overstretched skin struggled to constrict my lust. It felt as if one small papercut was enough to blow my cock up through sheer pressure alone.
It didn’t help that the woman on me was pepper hot and a hell of a looker.
Blonde, from short, brushed hair to sharp eyelashes that would rouse any straight man and girl-loving woman just by batting them. A pair of thin, sultry lips sat just above her rounded chin. Her eyes, sharp and layered, held alluring depths that I couldn’t get enough of. The freckles from before rode from the tip of her small, round nose to her cheeks, flowing beneath her jaw and towards her body.
Given the previous description alone, one would probably only imagine some plain Jane with a blemished profile. That would be a sin even the devil wouldn’t dare to commit. It was a combination you have to see to believe.
What I described above was just her face alone.
As for the expressions and the sounds she made as I fondled and tongued her lower lips, I think I’ll keep those to myself.
It was hard to believe this reality, even as I’m experiencing it firsthand. My brain was up to date with my senses, but my mind just couldn’t catch up. Even screaming it out loud in my head, it didn’t feel real.
I’m in a love hotel eating out a dark-skinned, freckled tomboy gal whose muff I’m licking with my tounge and ass I’m mushing with my bare hands.
It doesn’t get any more real than this.
But that was a second ago.
As I felt her cheeks up, my fingers slipped. Ever so gently, my index finger coasted the plains and dipped itself into the valley with a mind of its own. Like a snake, it slithered away in the heat of the moment, finding its target as my other digits were busy by themselves. It may not have eyes, but it wasn’t blind. It laid dormant, hanging just over the drop as it waited for the exact, perfect moment to strike. I played with the woman in my arms some more, drunk from sensory overload.
That perfect moment came. My index finger had no hesitation. It snatched up my hand and with the force of a thousand suns, jammed itself into the abyss as if there’s vengeance to be had.
Suffice to say, I’ve sent her to the moon.
To keep to my words, I will refrain from narrating the subsequent reactions I’ve received for my un(fortunate) accident. However, I will describe the consequences of my reckless manoeuvre.
I felt a jet of bitter slime and sweat blast across my lips, tainting my cheeks and eyes, rendering my sense of sight deprived. Enveloping me was the scent of her steaming body that had boiled from the last few minutes of pressurized libido. Her thighs squeezed against one another as she jolted upwards. I was helpless to her uncontrolled, orgasmic wrath. An implosion of force wrapped in a blanket of soft, smooth skin lit up from all angles around my head.
As a man with pride in his physical endurance, I wish I could tell you I’ve lived through the ordeal. I wish. In my defence, my head was subjected with enough force to split a diamond clean in half, all in a blink of an eye.
I fell unconscious right then and there, with a throatful of cunt juice and a head filled with hurt. For what felt like an instant and an eternity, my mind jumped back in time.
Impressive literary talent.
Well... That was. Interesting.
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