Jesus Christ, my clit is so fucking sensitive, and yet his tongue still feels like fucking heaven. I cannot believe the orgasm I just had, and now he’s going in for more, seeking out more pleasure from my body, and something about that is surreal. I’ve never had a boyfriend treat my orgasms like trophies.
If I’m going to be honest, I didn’t expect this from him. I mean listen, I expected to get well and truly fucked, but to this level? I didn’t expect him to make me cum before even fucking touching me, pulling an orgasm out of me with just his eyes, his commands, and a vibrator between my legs. I didn’t expect it all to feel so fucking easy, like a puzzle piece has finally locked into place. I knew I wanted to fuck him, but I don’t think I knew what that meant until right now, with his mouth on my clit and my back arching off the bed, a swell of emotions running through me all at once, the overwhelming nature of it all making my entire body tune into him, greedy for more of whatever he is offering.
“Oh fuck,” I moan, my eyes barely staying open. My body feels as if it is shutting down after the earth-shattering orgasm and then even more pleasure running through it. I try to look at him while his tongue plays with my clit, his fingers pressing into my skin hard enough to leave little bruises, the pain only adding to the pleasure, but I can’t help when my head rolls back, the sensations taking over, consuming me.
“God, you taste like fucking heaven, Olivia,” he gasps as he surfaces for air for just a second, my head snaps up at the sound of his words and the feel of his breath on my thighs. But his eyes never even connect with mine, instead I watch as he uses his fingers to spread me open, the most intimate part of my body on display for him, and he can’t seem to get enough.
He goes back to tonguing my clit, his tongue running side to side, taking the air out of my fucking lungs. I don’t know what it is about him, but everything he does makes my body feel as if it is on fire, burning alive just for him. He has this way of working my body, like he already knows it, like he knows exactly what I want, what I need, and he loves giving it to me.
His arm releases my leg, and I watch as he positions his large hand in front of my pussy, but even still, a small gasp leaves my mouth when I feel it connect, the tip of his fingers just teasing my cunt. He looks up at me, his eyes finally connecting with mine, his tongue making lazy motions on my pussy as he takes in my reaction as two of his fingers slowly enter my body, my entire mind going numb as the sensation overtakes me, the sight of him in front of me feeling like too much.
I have never been able to orgasm right after another. Usually, I take a while to cum, my mind full of thoughts of a million things, little worries I have, but today? I can only think of Jax, of his body, of his movements, of the way he feels pleasure with me, almost as if we are experiencing it together.
The second that thought hits me though, the possibility that I could cum a second time so quickly, I feel my orgasm fade, my anxiety taking over. I’ve always had anxiety around sex, but it doesn’t influence my life any more than it makes it hard for me to reach an orgasm and almost always guarantees that I won’t finish multiple times. Usually, I don’t even notice it. It feels normal in my mind, but I can feel my anxiety pull me out of this moment, pull me away from Jax and into my own head, and I hate it.
“Hey, stay with me,” Jax murmurs, his voice bringing me back down to earth, grounding me. I give him a weak smile, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment, embarrassment that he knows what happened, that I got lost inside of my head, embarrassment that he had to pull me back, embarrassment that this is supposed to be a fun hookup where I let go of all my anxieties, and yet I can’t seem to fucking do that. The second I thought I had a handle on it, I lost it, my mind taking over, thinking of a million things other than staying in the moment with him.
“I’m not going to cum again,” I mutter, just wanting to face the facts, wanting to move onto something else, wanting to please him and pretend that this didn’t even happen, but he doesn’t move. His arm stays around my thighs, his mouth only an inch away from my cunt, his eyes still on mine, his fingers still inside of me.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, looking at me seriously, as if he wants a straight answer, something I don’t really want to give him. The truth is, it feels fucking amazing when he does that thing with his tongue, running it over my clit from side to side, and if he kept doing it for long enough, I might be able to cum again, but I don’t want him to be down there for a half hour when I already orgasmed. I don’t want to admit all of this to him. It feels too intimate for what we are doing. We are just supposed to be fucking, and this isn’t how I planned it to go. I didn’t expect my anxiety to surface right here at this moment, and it feels too serious to talk to a fuck-buddy about.
“I-I” I stutter out, not sure how to answer his question, not sure how to give him the truth without being too truthful, without exposing every single one of my secrets.
“Let me rephrase,” Jax says, looking me dead in the eyes, his brown eyes consuming me, the thoughts in my head disappearing as I soak him in, trying to commit every detail to memory. “Does it feel good when I do this?” he asks, his voice still bouncing around the room when his tongue connects with my clit again, his fingers lightly fucking me, just enough to make my head tip back, pleasure consuming my body, taking over.
“Yes,” I answer, my voice breathy, desperate as his head comes up again.
“Then I’m not stopping,” he says, as if it is a simple fact, as if that proves his point and he needs to say nothing else. He looks at me for confirmation, probably not wanting to push me, not wanting me to feel pressured, and something about the waiting, comforts me, confirming that I’m safe with him, that he isn’t going to bulldoze me like so many other men have done to me in the past. He wants to be here with me, not just fuck me.
“I’m going to take forever to cum again, Jax,” I say, a whine to my voice, desperate for him to let this go, while also wanting nothing more than his mouth on my pussy again, sucking the pleasure from my body because he wants to. I want him to satisfy the hunger deep inside of me, to have his way with me, to feel like he could drown in me. I want to feel how badly he wants to fuck me, wants to feel my mouth wrap around his cock, through his tongue.
“I’m not doing this so you cum,” he states simply. “I mean, of course I want you to cum, but I want to eat you out. I want to make you feel good. If that makes you cum, perfect, but if not, I just want you to enjoy yourself, because, trust me,” he pauses, making intense eye contact with me, my entire attention captured by him and those fucking eyes. “I’m enjoying myself. Don’t worry about me. Worry about your neighbors hearing you,” he says, his mouth connecting with my clit once again, and this time, I give into it, letting his words soak into my bones, his entire speech making my limbs feel like jelly.
I’ve never had someone say anything like that, which honestly is a shame, because most guys should have that stance, but they don’t. Most guys want to get their cock wet as soon as possible, putting it in your mouth when you didn’t even want to suck it, fucking you before you are even ready, too consumed with their own need to even think about you for just a moment. I’m not used to someone wanting me to feel good. I’m not used to someone getting enjoyment from pleasuring me. I’m not used to someone prioritizing me above their own need, and honestly, it’s sexy as fuck.
“That’s it. Just fucking enjoy it, my greedy girl,” he mutters with his mouth right above my pussy, his words soothing the anxiety out of my body as I let myself enjoy the sensation, let myself bask in the feeling of his tongue on my clit.
I moan while he licks my cunt, trying to enjoy every sweep of his tongue more than the last. I moan loudly, trying to let myself be free, let myself just feel the fucking intense pleasure as he devours my pussy like it is his last meal. I think about the neighbors, that they could hear what is happening on the other side of the wall, and my back arches to the thought, the thought that someone is a witness to this intense pleasure, that they are turned on by me, by the way I’m responding to the man between my legs.
It doesn’t take long before I’m close to another orgasm, but I don’t try to chase it. I try to let it come to me, to stay out of my head, out of my own way.
His fingers continue fucking me, and my back arches as I teeter on the edge, but this time, he knows my body already, having already made me cum, and he holds me there, his tongue slowing, his fingers barely even fucking moving as I desperately wait to cum, so fucking desperate, so fucking needy, that it’s the only feeling I can register, the carnal need running through me. I’m no longer a person, just a vessel for this pleasure that I so desperately want.
“What do you say?” he asks in a condescending tone, his voice hoarse, and I know he is enjoying this just as much as I am, but I can’t think about that for too long, because I’m so fucking desperate for him to press his mouth back on my clit, and make me cum for the second time in the last half hour.
“Please,” I beg, wrapping my fingers in his hair, not caring for a second how fucking pathetic I may seem, writhing against his mouth, my legs moving beneath me, desperate for any friction against my clit, against my pussy, literally anything to send me over the edge into bliss.
“So fucking greedy,” he mutters, his voice low, the sound consuming my ears, his voice feeling like a touch against my body. He loosens his other hand from my thigh, running it up my body, my breath hitching until he finally moves my bra to the side and takes my nipple between his fingers, giving it a pinch that sends pleasure seeping out of my fucking pores. He starts fucking me with his fingers again, his tongue moving too. Too many sensations hit me all at once, and instead of the nice slide that I thought I would do, I barrel over the edge, my body not even sure which sensation sends me over, which sensation to pay attention to, because they are all-consuming, my only purpose at this moment is to feel them all, all at once, and let myself shatter, ruining me for any other man.
I come down slowly, my body needing time after two earth-shattering orgasms one after another. I register my breathing first, once I feel like I’m back inside of my body, and I’m fucking panting. I don’t think a man has ever made me pant unless it was from me doing all the fucking work.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Jax mutters, his voice jarring against the silence that filled the room just a second ago. I lift my head to look at him, still panting, my chest moving with each breath, his eyes linger there for just a second before connecting back with mine.
“If I would’ve known you could do that, I would’ve dumped Greg a long fucking time ago,” I say with a breath, barely thinking, my mind not seeming to work the way I want it to, because after getting the best orgasm of my life, I shouldn’t be saying my ex’s name in bed, and Jax seems to know that, because his expression hardens instantly, the second Greg’s name is out of my mouth.
“I’ll let this one go and pretend it is because you are so high after that orgasm, but if you ever mutter his name to me while you’re naked again, you’ll pay for it,” Jax says through clenched teeth, his voice ice-cold, a threat in his words that makes my skin prick. I’m sure his words would be intimidating to someone else, but they aren’t to me. They just make me want to find out what he means, and what he is going to do to make me pay for it. I resist the urge to find out right now, knowing he already has enough planned for me, but I put it on the back burner, hungry to see what he is like when pushed.
