ma**** Posted April 8 He felt himself at a crossroads. He lay on his back in her bed, sweaty, his legs spread apart. She was on her knees between them, her mouth full of his stiff, veiny meat, a single small hand of hers wrapped around the base of his shaft, keeping him angled where she needed him. Her head bobbed up and down his cock, slowly up, then impaling herself back down, trickles of saliva leaking down his glistening shaft. He was hard, the kind of hard where you were going to cum. She was lost in the act of devouring him as she rested comfortably on all fours, her knees tucked in, her blonde hair covering half her beautiful face, her ass swaying carefree behind her. He needed to cum, or rather, was going to. But there was somewhat of a self indulgent issue that was brewing in his head. When they had met for the first time to fuck, she had made it known, that while she would indeed perform fellatilo on him, she would never swallow. Cum made her throat numb, she claimed, and was not for taking it down the hatch anymore. She was subby at heart, but this was something that she avoided. And so as her lips wetly dragged up and down his cock in her own hungry rhythm, bringing him to the point of no return, he gently took her hand and moved it off his base, while his other free hand scooped up hair away from her face and lustfully exclaimed, “I’m going to cum.” She looked him in the eyes and never broke contact as she slowly dragged her lips up off his cock, her lips molding to the shape of his head on her way off. She said nothing. She adjusted her body to lay on her stomach as she nuzzled her face in between his thigh and scrotum, and started kissing his clean shaven sack. He took his shaft in his hand and stroked himself. Her eyes still locked onto his. He returned the stare. It was quiet. Intense. He loved that about her. She loved that about him. He jerked himself off, her throat juice providing a warm, sticky lube, her wet evidence squishing out from between his fingers. She was still eyeing him, her tongue swirling around the smooth skin of his nuts. The look was different this time. There was intention to it. As if something needed to be done he was not aware of. Deep inside a dark recess in his mind, he wanted to cum in her. In her throat. Where it would be swallowed. He secretly always wanted that from her; well, from every woman he had ever been with. Not being able to get it with this girl was a shame to him: she was easily, easily the most attractive girl he reckoned he would ever get with. In his mind, what a waste to not experience such an act with this calibre of attractive, sexy, subby flesh. All that said, he was aware he was sex drunk. They had met earlier, had a drink, gone back to her place, as was the custom. He started by going down on her, making her cum, before they'd take turns on top. He would cradle her legs against her when he was on top, grab her ass, grab hair and throat when below. When she came, she needed to be held until she came down before grinding to get there again. There was always a dark undertone to their fucking. She got him used to slapping her when he felt it was right. She trusted him with this privilege. But he could feel himself losing the battle to his desires to this one request of hers, more so than usual. He knew how he got when he would get sex drunk: he had blinders on, he became feral, possessed. Said things sober him would feel embarrassed about to say out loud. They were at the finish line now. He could feel, that if he were to stroke himself a certain way, he could cum in five seconds. He was weighing, in his head, what this fucking look she was giving him was. If this was a test, he was doomed to fail. Did she know it would fail? If it was a test at all? He realized he was trying to find a reason that it worked out how his cock wanted it to. But he would respect her wishes, he would not cu- “Cum for me, love,” she said before inhaling a nut again, as if telepathically feeding him what he wanted to hear. If you, the reader, believed in the supernatural, you’d think his eyes went dark. “Yes, babe,” he groaned. But he did not cum. He raised his body up, and slid his legs back, and rested his body back down on his knees, towering over her, his cock resting on her face. It twitched on her forehead. Surely she was expecting him to cum on her face. But he did not cum on her face. “Open,” he ordered calmly. And… to his semi surprise, she did.
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