Ian quickly removes his lounge pants and his hardened, thick shaft juts out at attention. My mouth waters just upon the sight of it and as daunting his size is, I really can’t wait to get my mouth around it.
He pulls me closer to the edge of the table and spreads my legs apart. He softly bites the inside of my thighs before he kisses them. His morning stubble gently scrapes against my thighs and I feel heat swell inside of me. A free hand softly massages my sex as if he petted a cat, and technically he did.
“Hold onto the table,” he instructs and he didn’t have to say it twice. I grip the table as his tongue does a quick swipe against my sex and I softly moan before he dives in. His tongue is flat and wide at some moments, and long and pointy at the others. He finds my swollen pearl and gently sucks on it before it bounces against his tongue and Lord, I just about had an exorcism on the damn table.
Breathy moans leave my lips as Ian’s tongue flickered up and down. He reached up and cupped my breasts as his tongue worked its magic. I instantly became wetter and my hips softly rose up to meet his tongue, seeking him more and more.
He lifted one of my legs and rested it on his shoulder as he continued. A free hand explored the rest of my body, caressing my tummy, tweaking my nipples, and tracing my sex with an index finger. The heat inside of me became a small fire. I moaned as my thighs began to tremble and I’m about to lose it on the table.
The windows are open and there’s a nice breeze coming in from the balcony. I’m pretty sure the neighbors can once again hear me and are probably thinking, ‘Oh, that bitch again?’ I’m pretty sure I don’t give a damn.
I probably wouldn’t care, neither.
Bad and Bougie. Feeling Some Type of Way II. This month.