RoseAnn Discovers Dominance Pt. 05

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I don’t know where that came from, but it was probably the sexiest thing to come out of my mouth in years. He gasped in surprise, but I managed to keep my cool and waited.

He picked up a shrimp and brought it to my lips. His fingers trembled. I held his gaze while I licked the shrimp with just the tip of my tongue and bit off a little piece. After I chewed and swallowed, I licked my lips and bit off some more. When there was only a little piece left, I reached for it with my lips and brushed the tips of his fingers with my tongue.

I felt a wet gush in my panties, and shivered with delight. Craig’s breath was coming fast, but he picked up another shrimp, and fed it to me with infinite patience. His own food sat ignored on the plate as his face moved closer to mine. His breath felt clean and warm on my cheek.

He fed me half a dozen shrimp, fragment by fragment. Each time, with the last bit, I took his fingertips in my lips and licked at them, longer with each of the little creatures I consumed. Finally, my excitement was too much to bear. I whispered, “Craig, kiss me, please.”

We stood up together. I instinctively worried that I couldn’t kiss him without emphasizing his shorter stature. Other men had been humiliated when they had to reach up to kiss me. But I decided not to worry about it, and took him in my arms. He wrapped his arms around my waist. I bent toward him and our lips pressed together, and oh! it felt so wonderful to be kissed by this man. It had been so long! I’d kissed other men since I left Mike, but none had turned me on as much as Craig.

I knew immediately that Craig was much like Donald. All my bottled-up regrets came to the surface at once, and I was determined to make up for lost time. We paused to take a breath, and resumed the kiss, this time squeezing tighter than before.

Finally, we broke, breathing hard. “Oh, my,” I said, with nothing better to say. He said nothing, but turned his head and pressed his cheek against my shoulder. I rubbed my cheek against his forehead

“Am I too tall for you?” I said at last.

He shook his head and said, “I find tall women very sexy. But can I kiss you again?”

His arms almost squeezed the breath from me as I bent to meet his lips again. Under that tee shirt was a strong body, smelling of male sweat and sun block and some of the residual popcorn and hotdog aromas from Wrigley Park. My pussy tingled, and I decided that I wasn’t going to go back to my apartment until both of us had come. I might even take a pussy full of his man-juice with me, as foolish as that might be. As he tucked his head into my neck again, I counted the days since my last period. This was not a good time. But I desperately wanted this man’s cock inside me, and I’d never have a better chance than right now.

Craig was still kissing me, on the throat this time, wandering near the collarbone. His breath hissed hotly against my skin. I decided a little encouragement would help, and I began unbuttoning my shirt. His lips followed, moving from side to side to fold back the cloth, and then kissing the tops of my breasts where they bulged slightly above the bra.

A new sensation forced me to thrust my breasts forward. The tip of his tongue was exploring the skin along the margin of my brassiere, dipping under the edge a little, and then retreating. He moved to the other breast and did the same. Then back to the first.

He was teasing me! Well, two could play at that game. I backed away and pulled my shirt together. “Enough, now,” I said. “Our supper is getting cold.”

He said nothing, but the hurt in his eyes was like a wounded animal. My knees grew weak, and I felt a little dizzy. But his whipped-puppy manner made me bold. I shrugged off my shirt and tossed it across a chair. Unclasping my bra, I shook it from my arms and dropped it across my shirt. His gaze was glued to my breasts, his mouth open slightly. My girls are moderately large, with brown, puckered nipples that swell to the size of my little fingertip when excited, as they were now.

“Follow me,” I said, walking over to the big recliner that bursa escort stood beside a bookshelf. As I sat, I cradled my breasts in my hands. “They’d like it if you’d pay them a little attention.” I sat on the edge of my seat as he went to his knees and moved up close. I insisted first on a quick kiss on the lips, and then pressed on his shoulders to guide him to the nipple of my right breast.

“Your breasts…so beautiful,” he whispered. With the tip of his tongue, he began to tease the nipple. Electric shocks traveled down my spine to my pussy. And he called them ‘breasts’, with the tone of an awed worshiper. That excited me even more. I arched my back to make myself more accessible.

He moved to the other breast, leaving behind soft fingertips so he could caress both nipples at once. I moaned out loud. I wanted to demand that he fuck me right then, but I held back. I loved what his lips and fingers could do. I wondered how big his cock would be, and whether it would be as exciting as his lips and fingers. I doubted it could be as big as Mike’s, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel a man inside me at last.

Suddenly, his hands moved to my waist and his lips were on my stomach. His breath came loud and fast and hot.

“Lick my nipples some more, Craig, please,” I said, as his tongue traced circles toward my navel, just at the margin of my jeans.

He gasped into my belly. “Please, RoseAnn. Can I kiss you? Please?” He was hoarse with lust.

What an odd question, under the circumstances! “Of course, you can, silly.”

“I mean, down there,” he said, glancing toward my crotch.

I stiffened. For a moment, I was eighteen again and in the back seat of Donald’s car. Insects chirped outside the open windows. My mind whirled as his clumsy teenaged fingers pushed my skirt over my chest. I’d been too shocked to stop him, and he burrowed into my pussy with a rough, wet tongue until I exploded in pleasure. But afterward, I dropped him as though he’d revealed some disgusting perversion. Over and over in the six years since, I’d remembered that as the most intense orgasm of my life, and wished I’d been more open-minded.

Now God was giving me another chance, and here I was, hesitating again.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought…”

“No,” I breathed. “It’s okay.”

Craig’s hot breath and tongue-tip already wandered back and forth along my waistband. He could loosen my button and zipper and I would offer no resistance. My brain whirled with confusion. I thought of Mike’s thick cock in my throat, and the acrid taste of his come. I didn’t like it at all, and I wondered how Donald, and now Craig, could be so desperate to bury their faces in my hairy, stinking pussy? On the other hand, I knew it would give me sensations unlike anything else I’d experienced. And Craig was so desperate.

“Are you sure?” I whispered.

“Yes, yes, I want to, more than anything,” he mumbled against my skin.

My left hand shook as I reached for the button on my jeans. It seemed to take forever, but finally it popped from the buttonhole. I slid the zipper down, as far as I could, and he licked desperately around my navel and down to the waistband of my panties.

“Please?” he gasped.

What did that mean? I’d just given him all the permission he needed. Why wasn’t he making his move?

“Yes! Lick me, damn it! Don’t take all day! Take my jeans and panties off.”

I closed my eyes as he pulled off my sneakers, and tugged at the waist and legs of my jeans until they were gone. My panties had been dragged halfway down my thighs, and he slipped them off. The cool air on my thighs felt good. Without thought, I spread them as far as I could.

Still I kept my eyes closed. I couldn’t hear Craig’s breathing, and I was about to open them when he let out a long sigh, and whispered, “So beautiful.”

Beautiful? My pussy beautiful? In four years, Mike had scarcely mentioned my pussy at all, except to complain about the smell. But Craig’s face was already closer to it than Mike’s had ever been. I opened my eyes at last, and looked down. Craig gazed in wonderment bursa escort bayan between my legs, and licked his lips. I felt uneasy. Was I going to disappoint him? What if he’d never done this before, and had no idea how it would disgust him?

I decided to stop him now. If I let this go any further, he’d never want me near him again. But before I could speak or move, he leaned into me and buried his open mouth in my pubic hair. Then I felt his tongue wriggle at the entrance to my vagina. The wet roughness of his tongue slowly ascended to my clitoris.

I let out a long, low moan of pleasure and forced my thighs even farther apart. Oh, my God! His tongue began to move, a few licks on my clitoris. Then a long reach into my vagina, as if he were licking up the wetness that had soaked my panties and must still be oozing from me in great quantities. Someone was mewing with pleasure, like a cat, and I realized it was me.

I must stop him! I thought, but it was already far too late for that. I’d never felt such intense pleasure. His mobile tongue searched each part of my vulva, every few seconds returning to my clitoris for a few long, slow strokes. My belly muscles contracted, and I felt the energy gathering in my pelvis for the orgasm I knew would come soon.

His hands worked their way under my thighs, up my sides, and began to caress my nipples in time with the movements of his tongue. Extra orgasmic fuel flowed from my breasts and down my spine, pooling just behind my pussy. My hips churned in time with the slow rhythm of his tongue. The pressure continued to build to impossible heights…

…and exploded!

I cried out, a long, low, “Ah-h-h-h,” as my hips bucked in the rhythm of sex. I heard the snorting of his breath as he responded with slow, deliberate tongue strokes that drove my climax to higher and higher places. My breasts seemed to swell in his hands. My back arched until it hurt, and still the intense waves of pleasure continued to build.

Still moaning aloud, I returned to earth, slowly descending the back side of the mighty orgasm, I became aware again of the slow, steady strokes of his tongue, his excited breathing, my own muscles relaxing. But I was too sensitive to let him go on. I turned his head sideways and made him rest his cheek on my pubic patch.

“Did you really like that?” I asked.

“Did you?” he mumbled into my hair.

“More than anything. But I don’t know how you can stand it.”

“Don’t worry about me. That was the absolute ultimate. The greatest thing on Earth. There’s nothing else like it.”

“But now we have to take care of you.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be just fine. This has been the most beautiful experience of my life. I mean that. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

Suddenly, I felt that sense of disgust grow in me, the same as I’d felt when I’d been with Donald for the last time. I was sure that if I let it grow, it would drive me away from Craig, too. What kind of man refuses an orgasm?

“Not good enough,” I said sternly. “Do you think women don’t get excited by making a man come? If you don’t let me make you come, this might be our last date.”

That stirred him. He raised himself erect, still on his knees before me. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll figure that out as I go along. Stand up. I want you to strip naked in front of me.”

He did, and I took a moment to gaze at his body. His pale chest and shoulders, scattered with orange freckles, were pleasingly arrayed with muscles. Given his sedentary job, he must work out a lot in a gym. His cock was erect, but smaller than I’d hoped, and I wondered if I’d even feel it inside me. But right now, it was important to make him think it was the size of a telephone pole.

I reached out a hand. “Bring that thing to me.”

He moved closed, and I touched him with my fingers, feeling the silky tip, and sliding my fingers down its length. I pinched the tip, enough to make him gasp.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

“It’s small.”

“More than enough to please me,” I lied. I thought about his condoms, and then had escort bursa a better idea. I decided I could wait until another time to have him inside me. In any case, my pussy was still reverberating from the attentions of his tongue.

I stood up. “Sit in the chair. I’ll be right back.” I went to the kitchen drawers and found a stack of dishtowels in a drawer. I selected an old ragged one, took a knife from its block, and stabbed a hole through the middle.

I kneeled beside the chair where Craig was stretched out, and put the towel over his crotch, pushing his erect cock through the hole. Then, with just my thumb and finger, I began to stroke him. He gasped with each stroke. Leaning forward, I blew gently in his ear. I could smell my own pussy on his face.

“Does this feel good?”

“Oh, yes!” His eyes were closed. A quiet smile curved those lips that had just explored and pleasured my body.

“You’re telling me that you don’t want this, after that wonderful thing you did for me?” I kept my touch very soft, gauging the pressure by the thrusting of his hips. “Why would that be?”

“Going down on you was such a beautiful experience…” He gasped suddenly, and I let go his cock.

“You don’t want this?” I said again, teasing him. I flicked his cock with a fingernail, so it swung back and forth.

“Yes, yes, please. I want it. If it excites you…”

“But it’s got to excite you first. You have to really, really want it before it means anything to me.” I began to stroke him again, barely touching with just the tip of a finger.

He arched his back and said, “Oh!” and then, “Yes, yes, I want it!” At that moment, it didn’t matter whether he wanted it or not. I watched, fascinated. I’d given hand jobs to a few boys, but always in the dark, furtively. I’d never actually watched a man’s cock as he came, close up.

Craig’s hips squirmed and his glans pulsed with the first, dry contraction. In the next, a jet of white flew in an arc, landing partly on the towel and partly on his leg. He grunted and gripped my arm, but I kept stroking and watched him spurt a second, third, and fourth time, before his cock finally subsided into faint twitches. His skin was blotchy pink and white and he breathed hard as he came down the other side of the orgasm.

“Was that what you expected?” I smirked, wiping the sticky stuff from his leg with a clean edge of the towel. The bleachy odor reminded me kneeling before Mike, listening to his cave-man grunts as he shot his come down my throat. I hoped never to have occasion to taste a man’s jizz again.

His eyes were closed. “It was more than I dared hope for. I haven’t had sex of any kind for a long time.”

“You haven’t?” I was startled and amazed, thrilled and puzzled, all at once. “How long?”

He blushed. “About eighteen months.” He looked up at the ceiling, where the answer might have been written. “Just a week short of nineteen months.”

“And no sex during all that time?”

“A few dates. They never came to anything. Not at all like today.”

“You poor man. How did you stand it?”

“Maybe I was waiting to find you?” It was a question.

I laughed. “You’re such a romantic. How could any girl resist?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. It seemed the more they knew me, the less interested they were. But I’ve never had sex on a first date, either.”

“Those girls were stupid. They have no idea what they were missing.”

For a moment, though, I’d had serious doubts about Craig’s masculinity, but I kept that to myself. It wasn’t his small cock; in fact, I wasn’t sure it was all that small. I hadn’t seen that many erections in my life, but I knew that Mike’s was substantially larger than average. Too bad he never wanted to put it anywhere but in my mouth.

No, it wasn’t Craig’s size that bothered me; it was his hesitation to use it. I’d had to take matters in hand, literally. I hadn’t expected that. My ex, and most other young men in Bitumen, considered themselves paragons of masculinity, which apparently meant pushing their cocks into various female orifices. It was a rare occasion when one tried to include their woman in their pleasure.

But with Craig, I felt worshiped, like a goddess. He was reverent, not aggressive, and it made me vaguely uncomfortable, as if I’d gotten something I didn’t deserve.

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