“You’re in charge.”
I had intended it as an assurance that I would allow him to lead us in this dance; that he could dictate the pace, and I would willingly follow. However, it ended up having the opposite effect. It seemed to inflame him, igniting a violent ardour that was almost frightening in its intensity.
“Fuck,” he growled, and yanked me back by the hair again, harder this time. He pressed his mouth roughly to mine and kissed me hungrily. I felt the sandpaper caress of his five o’clock shadow and tasted the familiar tang of his tongue as he plunged it repeatedly into my open mouth. I felt like a drowning swimmer being pulled under by a dangerous current, flailing weakly, needing someone else to breathe the air back into my lungs. But I wasn’t entirely sure whether he was the lifeguard of my metaphor, or the riptide.
The force of his kiss and the fingers in my hair pulled me back hard against his body, and now at long last I could feel the hot naked flesh of his cock prodding the back of my bare thigh. The electric spark of skin touching skin made us both moan, in perfect unison, into each other’s gaping, gasping mouths.
In one fluid movement our lips parted, he released his grip on my hair and, grabbing my shoulders, he spun me around to face him. Eye to eye now, we stared hard at each other, our breathing ragged and heavy. He reached out his right hand to cup my cheek and run his lightly calloused thumb over my bottom lip. Back and forth he continued to graze the tender skin, firmer and more briskly with each sweep, until the blood drew close to the surface and the nerve endings tingled. As he bothered the flesh with his increasingly ardent strokes, he lowered his gaze to admire his handiwork, and I could see he was pleased with the results. I could feel how much my lips had reddened and swelled. I could tell from the ravenous fire in his eyes, his dilated pupils and his heavy-lidded stare that my mouth must now resemble a cunt. I grabbed his wrist to stay his hand and then, flashing him a knowing smile, I sank to my knees.
“Fuck,” he repeated, but this time his voice was softer, less a growl than a purr. A hum. Resignation to the fact that there would be no holding back, despite his previous plea. We couldn’t hold back this tide, not right now. We wanted each other too much.
I grasped the waistband of his open trousers and slid them down his legs; he bent his head, watching me intently whilst pulling off his shirt. I ran my hands back up, over his tense calves and taut thighs, over his beautiful bum and into the waistband of his underwear. Slowly and teasingly, I pulled them down to expose his hard on, which sprang out eagerly and bobbed before my eyes. Urgent and angry, the flushed member jutted out proudly and I, elated to behold his turgid cock once again, leaned forward to bestow a soft kiss on its dewy head.
“Oh, shit,” he moaned, and I heard him swallow hard. I wrapped a hand gently around the root of his penis, holding it steady, and darted my tongue out to tease the tip, graze the glans, and flick at the frenulum. I cupped his balls with my other hand, loving the feel of their velvety weight and, burying my nose in his groin, I inhaled deeply.
There is something indomitable about the smell of his balls. Mae West famously said that a man’s kiss is his signature, but for me it is the tangy odour of his sex. His smell is pungent, but not unpleasantly so. It reminds me of a muggy carpet of moss on a forest floor, or the animal musk of a male deer. Primeval, primordial, ancient; his smell is my favourite perfume.
I licked a long stripe up his shaft and savoured the redolent male aroma as it filled my nostrils.
“Ohhhh, C-C-Chrriiisst,” he stuttered, the syllables drawn out long out like stretchy rubber bands. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“So, remind me again who’s in charge?” I chuckled, teasingly. In reply, he grabbed my hair roughly, gripped my head in his hands, and thrust his sweating sex against my face.
“Gee, I dunno, bitch,” he retorted sarcastically, and grunted as I opened my lips to suck hungrily at his humid flesh. “Which one of us is on their knees with my balls in their mouth?….”