Gods & Monsters(45)
His silver necklace reaches down to his chest, sitting warm and sexy, swaying slightly with his breaths. The arches of his pecs are tight and sculpted with bronzed skin that I want to track and map with my nails. Just like the ridges of his abs. The slight sprinkle of his chest hair makes me want to nuzzle my nose in it, before tucking it in the triangle of his throat.
I swallow when my eyes reach down to the slightly darker curls that trail and disappear down his boxer shorts. Holy cow, his dick is tenting that fabric something fierce. There’s a whole mountain down there. I’m probably not the only girl to think this but… how is it ever going to fit inside me?
“I need to taste your cherry before I take it,” he murmurs, bending down, his silver cross oscillating from his movements and hitting my cleft.
“Oh, God…” I moan, jerking as if electrocuted.
That was so sacrilegious. So sinful and wrong but so fucking right.
But I have no time to think about it because Abel takes a whiff. A long whiff of my slit and my brain freezes. He hums at the smell and I swear I feel those vibrations right up in my stomach.
“Abel, stop. That’s gross.”
He nuzzles his nose on the outside of my hole, making my butt grind against the bed. “You should’ve thought of that before, Pixie.” He smells my pussy again and looks up at me, rubbing his stubbled chin across my swollen lips. “I’m not stopping now, not until I have you gushing on my tongue. Let’s see if I can put my theoretical skills to good use.”
I gulp at the clear lust in his eyes. He’s gone all dark and flushed. Even though he’s lying down on his chest, his face almost buried between my legs, he looks larger than me, this bed, this room even.
His first lick is hot and it almost sends me off to the roof. It’s a good thing I can’t even move because Abel is holding me down. My hands go to his shoulders and I hold on to his rippling muscles. The flat of his tongue sweeps from bottom to top as he tastes my juices. He’s greedy in his licks. They are big and wide and span my entire core, and every time my taste hits his tongue he grunts.
God, those sounds make me as wild as his lapping tongue. He’s really eating me up, like I’m a delicacy or a food he’s tasting for the first time. But he isn’t shy about it. He isn’t taking short, unsure licks. He’s ravenous. Starving. A man walking in the desert for so long that every atom inside his body craves water. You can’t ask him to go slow. You can’t torture him by giving him one sip at a time, even if drinking it all in one go will make him sick. So I open my legs even more, the unused muscles in my thighs, my butt even, string up tight. And I press my core into his mouth.
Abel goes crazy then. He licks, almost slaps my pussy with his tongue, as if he’s mad at her. His thumbs press on both sides of my lips, plumping them up until he fits them in his mouth.
“Oh God… I…”
That’s so dirty and rude and obscene. I don’t have any more words for this. Who does this? Cramming my entire pussy inside his mouth, sucking it up?
Even as I think that, my tummy is tightening, the buzzing inside me morphing into something big. I loll my head back and forth on the pillow, tugging on his hair or scratching his shoulders, whatever I can get my hands on.
I think I can’t take it anymore. I think that I’ll be dead in the next five seconds. But no. What I’ve been feeling is nothing compared to what I feel right now, this second when Abel turns his attention to that little button at the top. My clit. He bites it and I scream. His short laugh echoes in the room.
Abel soothes the sting with his tongue before doing it again. This time I muffle my scream in the pillow and when I open my eyes, I’m looking at myself.
Oh shit.
I forgot about the mirror. It stands adjacent to the bed, all tall and big and I can see myself and Abel’s golden head in it. I can see my hair tangled up and snarly, fanned around. My nightshirt is half open, revealing the tops of my breasts, flushed red and heaving. I watch my hands in his hair, pushing him away, pulling him close. My thighs are spread open and shaking, one flung over his naked shoulder, the other going right to the end of the mattress.
Abel’s head is moving, up and down, side to side. It’s filthy. It’s how I’ve seen animals eat their food, with abandon, or maybe people in ancient times. The very first man might have eaten his food this way. He must have found it on the ground and fallen on it. Then he must have licked and lapped and swallowed it whole, without using his hands.
But did he grind his pelvis on the earth? Did he fuck the ground in rapture at finally tasting something so good?
No. I don’t think so. I don’t think anyone has done what Abel is doing right now. He’s so aroused, so into it that he’s humping the bed. I can see his tight butt moving, grinding into the mattress.
The image drives me crazy. So crazy that I’m on the verge of an orgasm. Only this one is going to be big, explosive.
“Abel…” I moan high, probably sounding like the couple next door.
Then, I feel a pinch and a curse. “Fuck yeah.”
The pinch grows and I realize Abel is cramming his finger – two fingers, three – inside my wet, steaming core and that’s it. That’s when the game is over and I fall. And what a glorious fall it is. My thighs are quaking while my stomach is all taut and tight, and I’m arched toward the roof. My breasts point heavenward, while he curses into my rippling channel and I chant his name over and over. If this isn’t religion, then I don’t know what is. If this isn’t the purest thing, then I don’t want to live in this world.