my shaft as her little tongue runs rings around my head. One hand boldly explores my sac. I’m certain she didn’t miss my grunt of pleasure, because now she’s fondling my balls more firmly.
That telltale tingle tightens, signaling I’m about to come.
“Stop!” I order. I don’t want to defile her perfect mouth, but not only doesn’t she release me, she dips her head lower on my shaft, her hands and lip-covered teeth spurring my orgasm.
I spill into her, my hands lodging in her silky hair as I groan the announcement of my pleasure. She doesn’t pull away. No, she rides out my spasms with me, cupping my ballsac and coaxing every drop from my cock.
Reaching down, I catch her under her arms and scoop her up to lie on my stomach. Her oversized purple bathrobe has fallen off her shoulders, and we’re skin to skin.
She’s too sweet, too gentle, to tell me the truth—did what just happen revolt her? I’ll have to divine it from the look on her face. I inspect her closely, but she certainly doesn’t look disgusted. If I had to put a name on her expression, I’d have to say she’s pleased.
Opening her legs, she straddles me, pokes her face next to mine, and bestows on me one perfect kiss. “Did I make you feel good, Ar’Tok?”
“Silly Star. Does gravity keep us on the ground? Do our lungs need oxygen to breathe? Do the stars shine in the sky? That was a gift.” I kiss her back. My kisses may not be perfect like hers, but perhaps by their sheer number they make up for that fact.
She lazes a while in my arms. Neither of us can keep our hands off each other. Her palms move from clutching my cheeks to stroking my shoulders, to touching my cirr. My cirr, capable of being more demonstrative than the rest of me, stroke her as if she’s made of the finest clinadon and might break if not treated with the utmost care.
Star
I can’t count the number of times I’ve read about the act of taking a male’s member into your mouth. At first, I skipped those parts. Then I read them with a morbid fascination, like I read about the snake people of the Bremrin colony on Xenon’s third moon. It sounded repulsive.
Even over these last few days, as Ar’Tok and I began to explore each other’s bodies, I never allowed myself to imagine doing that to him.
But I feel so comfortable, I knew I could safely explore my urge with him. I knew he’d never pressure me if I wanted to stop in the middle. But the more I touched him, the more my mouth watered to taste him, to feel the intimacy of the caress, to both give and take pleasure from the experience.
“Tell me again,” I coax, wanting to hear one more time that I and I alone brought him pleasure.
“I never thought anything could feel that good, little Star. Your touch is magic.”
“So I could do that every day if I wanted?” I tease, knowing I’m giving him the opening to tease me right back.
“Oh, I don’t know if I could be so generous,” he says, his handsome face alight with a smile.
“I guess I’ll just have to learn how to beg.” I giggle, and his cirr fluff my hair in happy excitement.
After he exploded in my mouth—I can still taste the sweet spice of vanilla—his member became soft and disinterested. It’s poking my belly now, though, definitely attentive.
“I want to try the other thing,” I say, hoping he has ESP and can read my mind.
“It would kill me to hurt you,” his voice is so sweet and earnest.
“This position is perfect.” I’m dripping wet, my thighs slick with arousal from the act of giving him so much pleasure. I rearrange myself, my knees next to his hips, and nestle my slit on his hardness. Beginning a rhythm, I experience the immense pleasure of feeling the ultimate expression of his manhood touching my femininity.
“Let me be in charge, Ar’Tok. I’ll go at my own pace, stop if I need to. I know you, you won’t be angry if this doesn’t work. Right?”
He leans up to kiss my lips, then lies back with a groan of pleasure. My movements, as inexpert as they are, are driving us both to the brink of rapture.
“I could never be angry at you, Star.”
My juices have coated him, I’m desperate to feel him inside me. There will never be