Jet moves his hands under my butt and grips me tight, picking me up and holding me up to his mouth, open and ready. With his lips and his tongue, he savors every inch of me, inside and out. When the tension in me builds so high it takes my breath, Jet seems to sense it, quickening his movements, flicking his tongue over me until something inside me bursts and I come apart in shards of sparkling glass and light.
As if he knows exactly what I need, Jet moves me against his face as wave after wave washes over me. I feel him in all the right places, licking and sucking, nibbling and biting. I don’t know when my arms gave up, but when my body settles back down to earth, I’m lying flat on my back and Jet is kissing the insides of my thighs.
“I could eat you for breakfast every day and never get tired of it,” he says, dragging his tongue up the crease of my leg where it joins my hip. Tentatively, he eases the tip of one finger into me. “I could feast on your body, every juicy part of it, until you begged me to stop.” I feel my muscles sucking at him, already ready for him to fill me up, to bring me to the edge again and push me over. “Mmm, that’s what I like to feel. I want you sucking my c**k from the inside. I want you squeezing it so tight, you can feel me throb when I come inside you.”
Already, my body is getting tight again, tense. Ready. I feel the gush of warmth when he moves his finger in deeper, eliciting a moan from me. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To feel me coming inside you?”
“Yes,” I breathe, my eyes still closed, oblivious to everything except Jet’s hands and voice.
“To feel the hot gush of it, way up in you?”
“Yes,” I say again, getting more excited by the moment.
“Are you on the pill?”
“No,” I answer reflexively, feeling a bit confused as my muddled brain tries to make sense of anything other than what I’m feeling.
“It’s okay,” he says, his touch leaving me briefly as he searches for something. I can hear the shift of cloth, so I lift my head and open my eyes.
Jet is pulling a condom from his pocket. I watch as he stands to unbutton his slacks and push them down his legs. His boxer briefs follow, leaving him naked to my eyes. The tails of his shirt fall to the tops of his thighs, but it doesn’t hide anything. As big around as my wrist, I can see his hard length rising up from between the two halves of his shirt, standing strong and long, making me ache for him all the more.
I can’t take my eyes off him as he unwraps the condom and rolls it from tip to base. I know this is going to hurt. He’s huge! But it will be a good hurt, one my body is more than ready for.
When Jet’s movements still, my eyes flicker up to his. He winks at me. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you unless you ask me to.”
“How can you be sure?”
Jet drops to his knees again, sitting back on his haunches. “Come here,” he says, opening his arms. I sit up and start to slide off the bed. “Stand up first,” he instructs, so I do, unwittingly putting the apex of my thighs right at the level of his mouth. “Just like that,” he says. “Now spread your legs.” Heart beating faster again, I do as he asks. I resist the urge to throw back my head again when I feel his fingers teasing me farther apart. “Do you know what I love to hear?” he asks.
“What?”
“That little noise you made when I sucked you into my mouth.” He’s looking up at me, his fingers teasing me, making me want to grind my hips against them for more pressure. “My c**k throbbed to be inside you at that exact moment.” I feel myself falling under his spell again, unable to think past what he’s saying, what he’s doing. “Bend your knees,” he whispers. I don’t question him. I just do as he asks, bending my knees. I feel his hands slide up the outsides of my thighs, guiding me over his legs until I’m straddling him. I can feel his length pressing against me.
“Now I can touch you as much as I want,” he says, teasing my clit with the pad of his thumb. “And I get to watch your beautiful lips tremble when you come. Because you will,” he whispers, his mouth finding one aching nipple to suck as his fingers bring me to the brink.
I’m barely aware of it when Jet winds one arm around my waist and lifts me. I only know that when he eases me back down, I feel the most delicious fullness at my entrance. I gasp, my body once again begging him for more. When I hear the air hiss through his gritted teeth, it only makes me throb all the more.
A little farther, he moves me down over him, his thumb still playing between my folds, his tongue still teasing my nipple.
“God, you are so wet,” Jet groans. “And so hot.” He eases me down even farther. “And so . . . oh God! So tight.” He pants, his hand moving around from my front to my backside. He reaches between my legs and spreads me from behind. The action tilts me forward on him, bringing my most sensitive part in contact with his body as he rocks me on top of him.
The more he moves me, the more friction he causes, the more I want to move on him. And the less control I feel like I have over my hips. I’m gyrating against him, the tension ratcheting ever higher, when I hear Jet growl. Lifting me, I feel him bite my nipple as he drops me down onto him.
The world stops spinning. The air stops flowing. I’m invaded by him. Completely. And he’s wrapped in me. Completely. I cry out in the most exquisite pleasure I’ve ever experienced.
Jet goes perfectly still. “Did I hurt you?” he asks, his voice strained.
“No. Oh God, no!” I moan.
“Good,” he says, withdrawing and thrusting again, going a little deeper.
I arch my back, taking in more of him, wondering how much is left. Jet’s hands find my hips and guide me up on him, almost completely off, and then pull me back down, impaling me on him again.
My head spins with the intense pleasure of it as Jet urges me into a rhythm, long, deep strokes up and down. His hands are touching everywhere. His lips are kissing everywhere. His tongue is teasing everywhere. I move on him faster and faster, harder and harder, inflamed by the sound of his voice as he whispers dirty things to me, dark and naughty things, thrilling me with each one.
Needing to do something with my hands, needing to feel every inch of him against me, I reach for Jet’s shirt, my fingers fumbling with the tiny buttons. Jet murmurs against my breast, “Tear it.”
Some small part of me questions the wisdom of it, but not enough to stop. With a freedom I don’t often feel, I fist my fingers in the smooth cotton of his shirt and jerk, laughing as the buttons pop off.