Nipple licking

The man whose tongue is licking her nipple is dressed and suspended above her nude body. He’s gentle and intuitive, coaxing the little berry to harden and spring to action.

First one, then the other.

He knows what to do, this man. He is experienced, confident. And he desires her.

Men like sucking and licking breasts and nipples, she knows.

She emits a moan as he sucks her fully into his mouth, rolling his tongue around her bud, now erect with arousal.

She closes her eyes and imagines his tongue lower, between her lips.

Patience, she tells herself. He wants to explore.

* * * * *

The men of her past preoccupy her. She tries to recall some of them, but her mind is foggy.

There is only one who stands out, but she was barely 20 at the time. He was a couple of years older and claimed to have gained all of his worthy experience from his on-again/off-again exotic girlfriend.

She remembered he was her first orgasm by a tongue. Her only orgasm by a tongue…

Perhaps she should have raised the bar for all the others still to come.

But she didn’t know any better at the time. The men that came after, they were not worthy of her infatuations.

She knows this now.

If only they had understood that a slow, probing method would get them so much more reaction…

* * * * *

He continues to lick her seductively, gauging her reaction by her movements and noises.

She arches her back and places her hands behind his head.

He looks up into her eyes.

“Stay,” he whispers, keeping her waiting while she ponders her answer.

* * * * *

She remembers one man who glued his mouth on her breast, eating her up while his fingers went straight for her clit.

It felt so sudden, so…harsh.

She likes foreplay, slow and seductive, to allow the rolling build-up to consume her, and arouse her. Activate her loins, and her brain.

But the way that man slobbered and chewed her globes, it overwhelmed her. Especially because he was also frantically fingering her down below.

It was too much, too fast.

She did eventually feel some arousal seep through her center, but it wasn’t quite as erotic as she longed for. Still, there was a part of her that liked being touched. By someone other than her own hands.

She tried to remember how it ended, that session. Probably the same way it usually ends…him panting and thrusting, then rolling over with a smile on his face.

At least someone was happy, she used to think to herself, hoping he would at least spend the night.

* * * * *

She wants to stay. There is much she wants to explore with him.

After he completes his journey. He’s still looking at her.

His interruption makes her impatient. Her body is ripe for release.

But he is in no hurry. He never is.

She stares into his eyes and wills him to continue. He smiles at her and lowers his face back into her waiting dew.

She feels his tongue trace her inner thigh now, inside that concave spot that gives her so much pleasure. Her skin tingles and prickles as he nuzzles expertly around her landscape.

She releases his head and places her arms above her own head.

Soon, she thinks and spreads her legs wider. She yearns for his tongue to extend into her wetness, to nourish and delight.

As he licks and dines on her, she ponders his question.

“I’ll stay,” she manages to utter while struggling against the delicious agony of his torturous tongue.

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