Her words sent a jolt straight to his groin. His dick pulsed against her thigh, leaving a smear of fluid on her skin.
But he wasn't done with her breasts yet. He pressed them together again, harder this time, and buried his face between them. His tongue traced the crease where they met. Alternated between sucking on one nipple and then the other, back and forth, until Susan was grinding against his abdomen with desperate little whimpers.
"Ethan, please."
"Please what?"
"Please—I need— anything —"
He took mercy on her. His mouth left her breasts and traveled upward, pressing kisses along her collarbone. The hollow of her throat. The curve of her jaw. A brief detour to capture her lips again, softer this time, a promise of what was to come.
Then he began the journey downward.
Lips on her sternum. Tongue tracing the line of her ribcage. He paused to suck a mark onto the slope of her left breast, she might scold him for it tomorrow, but right now she only moaned and pushed his head lower.
His mouth traversed the plane of her stomach. Dipped into the small hollow of her navel.
He kissed her there. Then licked.
Susan giggled. "That tickles."
"Good." He did it again, just to hear her laugh. His tongue circled the rim of her belly button, and her stomach muscles jumped and quivered beneath his attention. The contrast—this playful sound in the midst of their desperate need—made his chest ache with something deeper than lust.
But he had a destination in mind, and he wasn't stopping until he got there.
His fingers hooked into her panties. She lifted her hips, and he dragged the damp cotton down her legs, tossing them somewhere across the room. The nightgown had already vanished. Now she was bare before him, spread across his bed like a feast.
Her pussy was beautiful. Pink and glistening, the outer lips slightly parted to reveal the darker flesh within. Her clit peeked out from its hood, swollen and begging. The trimmed strip of blonde hair above it was soaked dark with her arousal.
Ethan settled between her thighs. His broad shoulders pushed her legs wide, opening her completely. He could feel her watching him, feel the tension trembling through her muscles as she waited.
His tongue touched her.
A sound tore from her throat—half-shout, half-sob. He licked her from entrance to clit in one long, slow stroke, gathering her taste on his tongue. The flavor that haunted his dreams.
He did it again. And again. Each stroke a little slower, a little more deliberate. His tongue flattened and pointed, curled and stiffened, exploring every fold and crevice. He mapped her with his mouth until he knew exactly which spots made her gasp and which made her curse.
Her clit received special attention. He circled it with the tip of his tongue. Flicked it rapidly. Sucked it gently between his lips and applied just enough pressure to make her thighs clamp around his ears.
"Don't stop... don't stop... don't stop—"
He had no intention of stopping. Two fingers slipped inside her again, curling upward while his mouth worked her clit. The combination made her back bow off the mattress. Her heels dug into his shoulder blades. Her fingers twisted in the sheets.
He ate her pussy like a man dying of thirst. Drinking down every drop of her arousal. This was the altar at which he worshiped, and he would not leave until she had been properly reverenced.
Her climax hit without warning. One moment she was climbing, the next she was free-falling—her pussy spasming around his fingers, her clit pulsing against his tongue, a guttural cry ripping from her throat that might have been his name or might have been a prayer. Her thighs shook. Her stomach convulsed. She came apart beneath him in the most beautiful way.
He gentled his touch, guiding her through the aftershocks with soft licks and whispered praise.
"Beautiful. You're so fucking beautiful."
She lay limp for a moment, chest heaving. Then her eyes opened, and there was a fire in them that hadn't been extinguished by her orgasm. If anything, it burned brighter.
"My turn."
She pushed at his shoulders until he rolled onto his back. The king-sized bed—massive and sturdy, custom-built to withstand exactly this kind of activity—creaked under their shifting weight.
Susan slithered down his body, her breasts dragging across his chest, his stomach, his thighs. She positioned herself between his legs and looked up at him through her lashes. Her lips, still swollen from his kisses, curved into a smile that promised wicked things.
Her hand wrapped around the base of his cock, holding it steady. She leaned close—close enough that her breath ghosted hot over the sensitive tip—and just… Admired. The head was so engorged it had turned nearly purple, the slit beading another drop of fluid. The shaft was so thick her fingers couldn't completely close around it.
"I love your cock," she said matter-of-factly.
Then she took him into her mouth.
Not the tip first, the way most of his women did. She took half his length in one smooth motion, her lips stretching wide to accommodate his girth. Her tongue pressed flat against the underside, tracing the thick vein that ran from base to head. One hand worked what she couldn't fit in her mouth, twisting and stroking in counterpoint to the bobbing of her head.
Ethan groaned. The sound was dragged from somewhere deep in his chest.
Her mouth was hot and wet and incredibly skilled. She hollowed her cheeks, creating suction that made his vision blur. She popped off long enough to lick from base to tip, tracing every ridge and contour with the point of her tongue. She kissed the head like she'd kissed his mouth earlier—with hunger, with passion, with an exchange of fluid that was profoundly intimate.
Then she took him deep. All the way deep. The head of his cock nudged the back of her throat, and she swallowed around him, the muscles of her esophagus massaging him in a way that made his toes curl.
"Susan—" Her name was a warning.
She pulled off with a slick sound. A strand of saliva connected her bottom lip to his cock.
"Not yet," she said, echoing his earlier words with a smirk. "You're going to come inside me."
She climbed up his body, straddling his hips again. His cock pressed against her stomach, leaving a wet trail on her skin. She reached between them, positioned him at her entrance, and paused.
Their eyes met.
"Fuck me," she said. "Fuck me hard ."
She sank down.
The sensation was overwhelming—tight and hot and so wet that he slid in with one smooth motion until he was buried to the hilt. Her inner walls gripped him like a fist, pulsing and rippling as she adjusted to his size. She was so full. She could feel him in her throat, or so she'd told him once, and by the expression on her face—eyes wide, mouth open, breath frozen—she was feeling it again now.
Ethan's hands found her hips. He didn't move. Let her set the pace.
She started slow. Rocking. Finding the angle that made her gasp. Her hands planted on his chest for leverage, and she began to ride him in earnest. Up and down. The wet sounds of their coupling filled the room, obscene and perfect. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, and he reached up to cup them, to feel their weight moving in his palms.
"Harder," she demanded.
He thrust up into her, meeting her downward motion with an impact that made the bedframe shake.
"Harder!"
He flipped them. One moment she was on top, the next her back was pressed into the mattress and he was looming over her, still buried inside her, his forearms braced on either side of her head. The new angle pressed him deeper, and she cried out—a sharp, exultant sound.
Ethan began to fuck her the way she'd begged to be fucked.
His hips drove forward with relentless rhythm. Not fast—not yet—but deep. Each stroke pulling nearly all the way out before slamming home again. The headboard struck the wall with every thrust.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Susan's legs wrapped around his waist, her ankles locking at the small of his back, pulling him impossibly closer.
"Yes—yes—just like that—"
Her nails raked down his back. The sting only spurred him on. He pistoned into her, the sound of flesh meeting flesh growing louder, wetter, more frantic. Her pussy made sucking noises around his cock, desperate and greedy.
He wanted to see more of her. He pulled out despite her protest, flipped her onto her stomach, and hauled her hips up. She understood immediately, getting onto her hands and knees.
He entered her from behind in one brutal thrust.
Susan screamed into the pillow.
This angle was deeper. Filthier . He could watch himself disappear into her body, watch the way her ass rippled with every impact. He spanked her again—right cheek, left cheek, the crack of his palm making her yelp and push back against him.
"You like that?"
"Yes—fuck— don't stop —"
He reached around to strum her clit while he fucked her. Three fingers pressed against the swollen nub, vibrating with the force of his thrusts. Her arms gave out. She collapsed onto her elbows, face pressed into the mattress, ass still high in the air, and he kept pounding into her like a machine.
"I'm close," she gasped. "I'm so close—Ethan— Ethan —"
He felt her pussy begin to tighten. The telltale flutter returned, stronger this time. Her whole body tensed like a drawn bowstring.
"Come for me," he growled. "Come on my cock. Let me feel it."
She shattered.
Her orgasm ripped through her with enough force to make her scream. Her pussy clamped down on him in rhythmic waves, milking his cock with visceral intensity. Hot fluid gushed around him, soaking his thighs, the sheets, everything.
The sight of her losing control, the feel of her coming undone—it pushed him over the edge. His own climax hit like a freight train. He buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside her, rope after rope of hot seed flooding her deepest places.
For a long moment, there was nothing but sensation—the wet heat of her, the spasms of his own release, the smell of sweat and sex thick in the air.
He collapsed onto his side, pulling her with him. They lay tangled together, still joined, her back pressed to his chest. Her body quivered with aftershocks. His cock twitched inside her, still half-hard.
Two seconds passed then, Susan's breathing slowly steadied.
Ethan pressed a kiss to her shoulder. She turned her head, trying to look at him over her shoulder.
"You know," she said, "we should try sixty-nine next. I wasn't done tasting you."
His cock stirred inside her.
She squeezed her internal muscles deliberately, and he groaned against her skin.
The night was far from over, Ethan rolled her onto her back, his cock still buried inside her. Their mouths crashed together—tongues tangling, teeth clashing—as he began moving again, slow and deep. Susan arched beneath him, her nails digging into his shoulders.
She gasped against his lips and he thrust harder, making her moan.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, heels pressing into his ass, urging him deeper. Their bodies moved in perfect sync—skin slapping, sweat-slicked and desperate. Ethan's hand slid between them, fingers finding her clit again, rubbing tight circles just the way she liked.
Susan's breath hitched. "Fuck—yes—right there—"
He growled, hips pistoning faster. The bed creaked in protest. Her pussy clenched around him, fluttering as another orgasm built. He could feel it—the way her muscles tightened, the way her breath turned ragged.
"Come again," he demanded.
She did as her back arched off the mattress as pleasure ripped through her. Ethan followed, his release slamming into him like a punch. He buried himself to the hilt, spilling inside her with a groan that vibrated against her throat.
For a moment, they just breathed and then Susan smirked. "Time's up."
Ethan laughed, still inside her. "You're insatiable."
"You love it."
He did. Her fingers traced his jaw before sliding down his chest. "Now," she murmured, pushing him onto his back. "My turn."
She straddled his face without hesitation, her wet pussy hovering inches above his mouth. Ethan gripped her thighs and pulled her down.
Susan moaned as his tongue found her.
The night was far from over.