Making Love with his Mouth

It’s difficult to tell whether it has been minutes or hours since the blindfold veiled my vision, soundproofing headphones smothering my ears. The lack of stimulation to my senses causes each moment to lurk into the next. I’m aware he’s waiting for my thoughts to slow, soften, focus inward. To interrupt the external reverie that clutters my mind. My breathing slows before the rumination quiets, and as if this is his queue to begin, his soft as satin lips brush my bare ankle.

I jump at the sudden sensation, the unexpected gentleness. I envision his smile as goose pimples litter my naked flesh. With one tender kiss then another, he advances up my leg, tongue trailing inch by inch. I release a gasp as he licks behind my knee, groan as he nips at my inner thigh. Taking his time, he laps at the sensitive flesh that converges between my hips. Caressing my nub with his skillful tongue, he expertly draws a moan from my parted lips.

Continuing north, the tip of his tongue rasps against my rounded belly to my breasts, where he pulls one nipple between his lips, flicks the pert tip with his tongue. Sucking, he draws blood to the surface before clamping his teeth firmly, biting until my back arches from its resting place.

Wet kisses make their way up my neck, across my chin. Angling lips over mine, his tongue dips in to taste. Our tongues tango until his pace slows and panting he takes my pouty bottom lip between his pearly whites.

Brushing his lips over my jawline, he captures the lobe of my ear, grating his teeth across it. Kissing each eye lightly, the headphones are lifted and he whispers a sweet “I love you,” in my ear.

“Now the real fun begins.”