I knew I should tease, I should take my time with kisses along the thigh, or gentle caresses of the lips down there. A kiss would be nice. A series of licks on the belly would be better, perhaps.
But all too often, as with this time, I just can’t wait. A soft kiss, right on what there was of her wispy little fiery bush, a wet, slobbery lick up the top of each inner thigh, and a nuzzle of her belly button were all the preliminaries I could manage for Bridget before I dove in between her legs in earnest.
I pressed my lips against hers, redolent with aroma, and hummed gently, letting the vibrations transmit against her pussy. Then I extended my tongue and dragged it from top to bottom, and back up. She was damp and tasted wonderful. I rocked down so I could look up at her and saw that she rolled her head back as far as she could. I brought a hand up to caress her slit for just a moment so I could lift my head and croon, “Lift your head please, Bridget,” I said softly. “I… look me in the eyes.”
She lifted her head slowly, “Wha? Okay? Why?” She asked, already sounding a little mentally disorganized. That was promising.
“I just want to see your face,” I said. “You know, for when you… you know.”
She seemed to focus for just long enough to snort at that for some reason, then just nodded and her hands pressed my head back down softly, but with entreaty.
I let my tongue press slowly into her, watching as her eyes widened, then softened in response. But she kept her head up so she could keep eye contact with me. I massaged my tongue in and out of her, mining both to different depths and forward and back inside of her. I studiously avoided her very top area though, watching for when the time was right. Over, and over I massaged her insides with my tongue, and her legs from thigh to calf with my hands. When she suddenly shuddered and made just that noise (you know the one, right?), I slid my tongue upward and in, but a moment later I finally sought her clitoris and lashed at it swiftly, up and down.
Bridget’s slitted eyes flew open and her mewling sprang louder, even though she tried to clamp down her mouth on the noise. Anther single lash at her clit and her hips bucked pretty violently. She lost control, crimson flashed across the pale skin of her face, highlighting the splash of freckles on her cheekbones. Her head then snapped back again, and her hands clutched almost painfully hard in my hair, pressing my face into her crotch. And she fucking outright screamed, “Fucking hell! OH! Oh! Oh! OH! Fucking, fucking, hell,” all at the top of her lungs.
And then, like the proverbial puppet whose strings are cut, she collapsed completely onto the chair, still staring upward at the ceiling. “I’m going to die,” she muttered happily. I raised up straight on my knees and checked to see if I had any hair left or if she had yanked it all out.
“I’m sorry I stopped looking at you,” Bridget said groggily, finally looking away from the ceiling, and back to me.
“That was great,” I reassured her, “I saw exactly what I wanted to see.”
“And fucking hell, man! That was the loudest noise I think I’ve ever made in my life for any reason.”
“Well, yeah. Right?” I said, shrugging.
Bridget gasped a quick laugh. “Do you ever exaggerate anything about sex?”
“Why bother? It would all become pretty evident anyway.”
She just shook her head. “Then I guess you are going to need my best blowjob, so you don’t go off the second you finally deign to break down and put that thing inside me.” We both laughed at that one. I laughed appreciatively in more ways than one.
She struggled to her feet, and Bridget commanded me to sit in the chair. I sank into it, cock waving around, practically grumbling about how long it had had to wait. Bridget, in turn, slid to her knees, and leaned over my thigh to caress and examine me. Her brow furrowed.
“Look, Alistaire,” she said earnestly. “I think I have leaned some things about what I am doing down here. Really. But I am just a little worried about how I’m supposed to deal with this. I mean, you know… it’s yours after all. Any advice?” She laughed at herself.
“Honestly?” I shrugged. “This is about the one part that I don’t study much when it is going on. I mean, I just like lie back or stand there, relax, watch her face, and enjoy her enjoying herself.” I trailed off, vaguely aware that that was a possibly odd way of describing oral sex to a girl who was contemplating giving it to me for the first time. “Oh, and tongue. I like lots of tongue, please,” I added eagerly.
“I do aim to please there,” Bridget said. And with that, she bent to drag her tongue around my head and up and down my shaft with oddly intense laziness. Yes, she was definitely pleasing already! “What ahmlent,” Bridget tried to continue talking, despite keeping her tongue on my cock in some way or another, “ith how muth of thith can a glurl weawy take?”
It took me a second before I got it. “Oh! Well… I dunno. It doesn’t really matter in the end, does it? I’ve always been happy no matter how far down and all, in the end. Very happy,” I said, and Bridget relaxed. “I mean it is pretty amazing,” I went on as she started licking again, “when Carla takes it all the way, right to the root, but…”
“What?”
“Well, yeah, but come on, I think that is actually pretty freaky, right? I mean a guy has to hope for no more than at best half of that, right? And anyway, the best part is always the tongue… and the lips… Oh, thank you,” I kind of trailed off as Bridget started licking me again. “Thank you.”
“Don’t ever change, Alistaire,” Bridget murmured, taking a moment to rub me all over her face, dragging my helmet across her cheeks and over her nose.
“I thought the whole reason this is happening is because I did change.”
“Not in your soul,” she said softly, and suddenly wrapped her lips around me and started suckling on my cock like it was a baby bottle. What a nice thing to say.
Not as nice as what she was doing with her mouth once she had said it though. She had both hands stacked around my shaft, not jacking me or anything, just gently massaging. All the action was up at the top couple of inches, buried between her lips and being tortured by her head bobbing up and down around it, with her tongue inside, as requested, slowly thrashing around me. Her mass of tight red curls, bobbing up and down on my lap was possibly the best view of my life… after the one of Carrie naked beneath me on the hood of the Mercedes.