Then I saw no more, because she was swallowing my cock, and sucking so intently, so intensely, that the world shrunk in on me and my vision tunneled. I felt vaguely like a fly in the hands of a spider, about to have his innards sucked out for dinner, except that I was bucking and thrusting and dying to gush down her throat. Her mouth was warmer and wetter than any of my fantasies of a pussy, she may just as soon never had teeth.
She swallowed again and her whole mouth constricted, her tongue squeezed, and I exploded. I arched and my legs went rigid and I came and came, pumping twenty or more times in a heroic feat of cum production never before equaled by mortal man. She had retreated to my head but never broke the seal on my shaft; her tongue and lips were squeezing and sucking for every drop I could produce, then demanding more; her hands had slid under my ass and were squeezing for juice. I cried out – suddenly hoarse – at the last dry spasm before I fell back, limp and wasted, into the duvet.
Still, she didn’t give up on getting more; she continued to roll her tongue around my head, and brought up a hand to milk the last creamy drops from shaft. I spasmed again – an aftershock, really – and only then did she release my cock. She leaned back to finally swallow and sigh before dropping back down between my thighs to gently lap and kiss. My penis shrunk slowly back against my body and went to a very satisfied, well-deserved sleep.
I wanted to do the same. But she was back on all fours, crawling up next to me to sit cross-legged on the bed. I took a long, deep breath, and the scent of her musk and perfume filled my nose and mouth.
