He is her everything...
Well this time I would make you wait. You'd complain. You'd beg, You'd have to. I wouldn't put you in my mouth until you begged me for it. And even then, I'd do it softly and slowly. Kisses here, licks there, and all the time you struggling to get the whole thing in my mouth.
God, I wish I could tell you this. This has nothing to do with our feelings, just this desire I have for your body, how I dream about you abusing me at night, how I relive our last fucks together, especially, the last one where you teased me till I begged you. Damn, you're sexy.
So there you are, tied up and begging for it. You'd have to actually use your words. Before you got by on just hints, but you would have to tell me, full out, what you wanted me to do. "I want my penis in your mouth. I want you to blow me. I want to face fuck you until I come."
As soon as the words are out of your mouth, your dick is all the way in mine. Its thickness always surprised me. You were a man, unlike any of the others I had ever had. The way you took control, in the kitchen, in the bed room, the thoughts that came from that brain of yours. You captivated me, enraptured me. You could have any girl you wanted, Sam. And you chose me.
You were so silent during sex, so stoic, almost, like you couldn't let yourself admit that you liked it. But when you'd let out even one sound, god I always wanted to shove you inside me right then and there.
Your thighs are spread, my hands clenching the muscles. You'd want me to put my hands on you, but you'd be tied up and you wouldn't have a choice. I'd run my fingers up and down your thighs, making sure to gently scratch and not tickle, higher and higher each time.
I'd let a finger graze the skin between your penis and your ass, and you'd love it. I'd slowly wrap one hand around you, near your balls, as you slid up and down my tongue. The other would linger lower, squeezing your balls, rubbing that skin, even occasionally going further back, between your cheeks, to touch the little pucker of your ass.
If I got up the nerve to stick a finger up you, you'd go mad. I'd use my vibrator on you, swirling it around that hole, pressing it to the bottom of your shaft, and you wouldn't be able to stay silent. You'd whine for my other hand to move, instead of just gripping you while my mouth did all the work.
You'd get harder and harder as I played with you, teasing the head with my tongue, sucking you part of the way into me, and then, finally, sliding my hand up and down, my head bobbing as I tried to stick you down my throat. I was able to deep throat you one time, it was so incredibly hot. I'm getting wet just imagining being able to do it again.
Abruptly, I'd let you go, move my mouth away, and you'd be left alone, blindfolded, wondering what was going to happen next. I would carefully straddle you, one leg on each side, lean forward and kiss you, with a little teeth, right below your jaw. The time you sank your teeth into me, god, if I was able to have an orgasm with you, I would have come right then and there. (That's the one thing I always regretted, not being able to give you the satisfaction of making me go over the edge. But you got me closer than anyone else. And what you made me feel was ten times more erotic and ten times more satisfying then what I feel when I masturbate.)
My pussy wet, your shaft glistening with my saliva, I'd position myself over you, and drop down until you were just touching me. You used to tease me like this, and this would be my way to get back at you. You'd beg me, writhing your hips trying to get inside me, and I'd drop a couple of inches, your dick partway in me. It would be torture for me as well, but I'd endure.
You'd thrust up wards, but I'd lift myself so you couldn't go any deeper.