Her hips start to instinctively rock against my face, and my cock grows hard once again. At forty-two, I’m no teenage boy who can just get a boner right after a woman makes him come. But fuck if my dick remembers that, and I press my erection against the end of the bed to soothe the ache growing there the more she grinds her pussy against my mouth.
When I look at the expression on her face, I recognize it instantly. It’s the face I burst in on right before she screamed in surprise. It’s a look of concentration, desperation to orgasm, as I continue licking, sucking, dragging my teeth gently over her sensitive nub, absorbing the sexy moans and little sighs coming from her as she presses her head back against the mattress.
When I pull back a moment to look at her, seeing that my pleasurable assault and beard against her delicate flesh have turned her red, I involuntarily thrust against the edge of the bed. “You’re a fucking goddess, Astrid. So beautiful here, like a lotus. I have never seen such a pretty pussy,” I whisper, and she whimpers.
“Please, Neil,” she begs, and the desperation in her voice pulls me back in.
I switch modes once again to small, rhythmic circles, tracing with the tip of my tongue around her clit. I drape my arm around the front of her hips and use my thumb to pull back her hood, exposing her even more to me. And while her hips pick up their rhythmic movements, her face grows more and more frustrated, and that’s when I remember her heartbreaking plea when I found her masturbating. “Please, Neil. I need to come.”
It was a cry for help. She wasn’t just asking me to finally give in to our desire for one another. She was begging for me to help her find her release.
She’s unable to come.
At the realization, I pull back once again and stare into her face, seeing the tears pooling near the bridge of her nose. Tears of frustration, of hopelessness to orgasm and find relief.
My poor Astrid. My poor, sweet Astrid who has been through so fucking much. No wonder she hasn’t made much progress over the year she’s lived here. If she hasn’t had any type of physical activity from never leaving the house, added to being unable to make herself come, she’s had absolutely no relief. None of those delicious endorphins to run throughout her beautiful body to chase away any of her pain.
“Goddess,” I prompt, “look at me.” She blinks open her eyes, wiping away the tears pooled here, and she meets my stare. She had been so sassy when I first met her, so argumentative, and that endearing personality still peeps through. Yet she can follow orders so well when she wants to. “Are you able to come by yourself?”
She gulps, her cheeks turning bright pink.
“Astrid, remember who I am, baby. Remember I’m a professional who can help you. This is my expertise.” When she doesn’t respond, her face full of embarrassment, I squeeze her hip. “Look around you, goddess. I didn’t get all this by sucking at what I do.”
She closes her eyes and gives a sad little nod. “I… I can come by myself, but it takes so long and so much concentration that it actually hurts when I finally orgasm. There’s no relief, no pleasure at the end, so why even bother?”
“Ahhh, baby,” I breathe, shutting my eyes and resting my forehead at the top of her bare mound, my heart breaking for her. “God, I wish you would have talked to me, told me about this.”
She lets out a huff of indignation. “Yeah, I’m just going to open up a conversation with the hot guy I live with like ‘So, got any tips on getting me off, bro?’ I think not.”
My grip tightens on her hips to punctuate my words as I lift my head and look her in the eyes. “Astrid. I am literally a sex therapist. Aaaall those letters behind my name… yeah, a few of those certify that I am an actual medical professional who teaches people how to get off.”
“But I’m not one of your patients, Neil,” she argues, shaking her head.
“No, but you are the woman I love.”
It just falls out. It just leaves my lips like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like I’ve been saying it all my life, yet it hovers in the air between us like an