He sat back for a moment, surveying me, his knee hard against my pubic bone.
I felt a stab of regret that my beige cotton knickers didn’t match my serviceable black nylon bra.
His eyes were on my breasts and then his fingers were on the tiny jet buttons of the bodice, working quickly to part the thin chiffon.
I thought, foolishly, as he was doing this: he has too much respect for clothing to rip it.
His palms made smooth circles on my breastbone, contemplating it, and then he snatched my bra straps and pulled them down over my arms. His hands dived into the cups of my bra and forced the whole undergarment down to my waist, trapping my arms side by side.
In the same fluid gesture he gripped my breasts and pushed them free of the tangle of nylon, squeezing them together so that my cleavage was a canyon.
My breasts were the best part of me, round and high. They swelled and firmed under his touch, the nipples fizzing like firecrackers when he put his mouth on them, one then the other. I think I moaned then and the sound I was making, we were making, traveled like lit gunpowder to the place where I most wanted him to be.
I thought I might die, my heart fluttering in my chest, that there could be no other sensation in this world or the next that could deliver such pleasure, but then a handful of fingers were inside my knickers, seeking, pressing, twisting and, finally, shoving hard up into the fissure that was opening inside me, while he drooled warm saliva on my nipples and sucked it back up between his teeth.
I tried to reach for his belt buckle, but he looked up and said “No”.
He extracted his mouth from my breast and his fingers from my cunt and pushed my skirt up over my waist.
My breasts felt momentarily abandoned, glistening with cooled saliva.
He pulled my underpants down and grabbed my knees, urging them wider. And then he scooped his hands under my buttocks and brought my mound to his face. When his tongue shot out and grazed the budding muscle that was the core of everything, I twitched violently, scalded.
He soothed me with long licks and nuzzled the inside of my thigh and then circled my clit with light flickers, soft as a kitten.
I raised my head and pulled his face closer, wanting more of it and harder, but he snaked his tongue down and around, teasing. I was open as a wound, our juices streaming down my thighs, the parts of me that yearned for his mouth bruised and engorged.