I have just got out of bed and am in the kitchen doing the washing-up in my bath-robe (nothing underneath) when you pad barefoot into the kitchen. You have been in the garden, and have slipped on only just enough clothes to keep you decent – a baggy old tank-top covering your unsupported breasts, and a pair of old denim shorts. The pale skin of your arms and legs is like delicate china. Your hair is roughly done up with a few grips and tied back with a piece of red ribbon that doesn’t stop a loose strand from falling across your face. You brush it back distractedly and bend over to get a glass out of the cupboard by the sink. Your baggy top hangs open and I can’t stop myself looking at your little breasts as they swing to and fro, each darker nipple surrounded by the wide areola which I love so much. You pour yourself a glass of water, which you drink. I watch the muscles in your throat as you swallow each mouthful. A drop of water runs down your chin and you wipe it off. I could watch you all day; not doing anything, just being yourself.
“I picked some thyme” you say. I take the little sprigs of it from you and lift your hand to smell the fresh scent of the herb on your fingers. I kiss them and taste it on my lips. I suck your finger into my mouth and hold it with my teeth, my tongue twirling round it inside my mouth. You smile indulgently, letting me enjoy this moment.
The washing-up can wait.
I push you back against the kitchen worktop. You’re happy to oblige, and lean backwards, your hands splayed out on the cool marble surface, steadying yourself against the pressure of my body. I press my lips against yours and you respond, languidly at first as if you’re just indulging my lust, then harder as you start to feel it too. I press my tongue against your teeth; you’re teasing me by keeping them closed, stopping it getting into your mouth. OK, have it your way… I kiss up your cheek instead and nibble at your ear, your hair tickling my face. This makes you giggle.
I put my hands on your waist, and slip them under your tank-top; your skin is warm and smooth. I push my hands up, taking the front of your top with me. Your pale tummy comes into sight as my hands move over your navel, pausing for a second to stroke round it, pushing into the little depression. I linger to feel the gentle rise and fall of your tummy as you breathe in and out. My hands go further up, reaching the place on your chest where the underside of your breasts starts to swell. You catch your breath, and hold it as I keep on moving up until the front of your top clears your breasts. I leave your top bunched above them, enjoying the sight of your little bare tits. I kiss first one nipple, then the other. While I am thus distracted, you pull your tank-top off over your head, leaving you fully topless, offering your body to me.
Your breasts are so lovely. I adore the shape of them, slightly pointed and ever so perky. I adore the wide areolas around your nipples, and the way they dimple when you are aroused. I lick them with my tongue, feeling them become rough and sensitive. As I touch your left nipple with my tongue, it too rises up, like a hard little thimble. I suck it into my mouth, rolling it round with my tongue. I know how much you love your nipples being played with, and can hear you purring with pleasure. I take your other nipple between my fingers, and squeeze it tightly. I know you will be starting to get aroused now, and I press my pelvis against yours, allowing you to wriggle against me, stimulating your tingling clitoris.
Still sucking on your left nipple, with my right hand I stroke the outside of your leg. Moving upwards, I reach underneath the leg of your shorts and caress the smooth silky skin on the insides of your thighs. You whimper. Using my other hand, with the flat of my palm I begin to rub your pussy through your shorts and you gasp at the feel of the rough denim against your soft mound. You thrust against me, wanting to force your engorged clitoris against my hand.
My hands go to the waistband of your shorts and ease the button gently through the hole, the backs of my fingers brushing lightly against your belly and making you shiver. You tremble as you feel my touch on the sensitive skin below your navel, and then feel me slowly … oh so slowly … lower the zipper on your shorts, tooth by tooth. I kiss you on the mouth, and take your lower lip between my teeth and held you still. You move your hips back and forth, trying to rub your pussy against the fabric, wanting to feel its roughness against you.
As the zipper moves slowly down, the front of your shorts begin to spread apart, baring the soft mound of your pubis with its little coat of pale wiry hair. As they come loose, the tight waistband eases away from your hips, leaving a faint indentation in your skin. As the zipper snags at the bottom, I let go, leaving the shorts hanging open, with your little“V” of hairs perfectly framed. You wriggle your hips, letting the shorts loosen a little more, revealing a little more of your pale bare skin. We are teasing each other, seeing how long we can make the moment last.
With another little shimmy, your shorts slip down as far as they will go without further help, hanging tantalisingly low on your pelvis. Taking hold of the bottom of each leg, I pull gently on them, and the waistband slides smoothly over your hips. Once they are over this obstacle, you wriggle your thighs some more and they slide easily down your legs to rest crumpled around your ankles, You step out of them, kicking them away with your bare feet, relishing the feeling of nakedness, of showing yourself to me.
Pushing with your hands, you jump back up onto the worktop, wriggling your bare bum to get comfortable. Shamelessly, you part your legs, letting me see the treasure between your thighs; the bulge of your pubis with its neat little bush, the pale folds of your fleshy labia, the pink wet slit just starting to open.
You untie the cord round my bathrobe and pull it open. It is already loose, and I only have to wriggle my shoulders to let it slip off and onto the floor. Now I am bare too, which feels nice. Your legs dangle a few inches above the floor, and you stick them out and wrap them round me.
You are so beautiful. I can sense the wetness building up between my legs as my desire for you grows and grows. I drape my arms around your neck and kiss you again. You push your leg hard against my pussy, and I grind my crotch against it, relishing the friction as I leave a moist stain on your leg from my own juices, helping to release some of the relentless itch for release, the burn of sexual arousal, that I can feel in my genitalia.
I nuzzle my face into the hollow between your neck and your shoulder, kissing you and tickling you with my nose. I can feel your bare arms around my back, holding me tight, and nothing else seems to matter but this one moment and I wish it could go on for ever.
I can smell the scent of your arousal and I know that you will be soaking wet. I lick down your body, feeling your breast rub against my cheek, leaving a damp trail from your shoulder down to your tummy. My hand strokes your leg, enjoying the feel of you. My tongue reaches your bush and burrows through it, finding the little bud of your clitoris. You grab my hair with your hand, and say my name…Annie, oh yes Annie…
I circle your clit with my tongue, tempting it out of its little nest of flesh.
– Oh Annie, Annie, my darling…that’s so good…so good.
My need is to taste you, my darling. Just the tip of my tongue touches your slit. I can feel the warmth of your thighs and of the place between them. The aroma of your sex is better than any expensive perfume, the musky scent of your vaginal secretions mingling with the natural perspiration from your thighs. I rest my cheek against your inner thigh. I draw my tongue back from your vulva, forming for a moment a little glistening strand of your juices between us.
The smooth muscles of your belly begin clenching, rolling with hungry and barely concealed energy as you try not to fuck back at me, not wanting to rush the moment. I purse my lips and blow gently on your slit, more delicate even than the touch of my fingers.
– Oh Annie, Annie.
I’m teasing you. But you know I won’t be able to keep this up much longer. I run my tongue up and down your slit between your labia, tasting more of your juices. I suck your labia gently into my mouth, first one then the other, one pair of lips against another. Then finally I insert my tongue between your pink folds and feel the muscles in your thighs tense with excitement. Round and round I lick, just inside the entrance to your vagina, before pushing my tongue in deeper and licking upwards towards your most sensitive area, spongy and warm. You are pressing your pubic mound against my face, writhing your hips to increase the pressure.
I want to go deeper, but my tongue is at full stretch. I raise my head, your juices round my mouth. I kiss you, letting you taste your own juices on my lips. I slide two fingers inside your vagina; you are so wet that they go right in without any problem. Your tongue pushes into my mouth, showing me what you want my finger to do to you down below; fluttering against my lips, teasing, thrusting. I move my fingers around inside you, scissoring them to feel the sides of your vagina, then curling them upwards. I start to move them in and out, your juices making a squishing noise as the pressure forces them out and over the worktop, forming a little sticky pool.
Your own hand goes to your clit, and you begin to rub and squeeze it, propelling yourself towards your orgasm. I kiss one of your breasts again, sucking hard on your nipple, taking it between my lips, then just nipping it with my teeth. Your breath is coming in gasps now as you approach your climax. Your feet are banging against the cupboard doors under the worktop as you begin to lose control. Each gasp is my name.
– Annie, Annie, Annie!
Until your legs go tense, your hand presses hard against your clit, and I push my fingers as deep into you as they will go, not stopping my thrusts as your climax comes, wave after wave of fireworks exploding in your body. Your ecstatic cry of orgasm fills the kitchen.
I let you slide off the worktop, your vagina leaving a little trail of sticky juices, and hold you in my arms. I can feel the wetness of your pussy as you press it against me, the final tremors of your orgasm fading like the last rumbles of thunder after a storm. Our arms around each other, we hold each other tight. I hear your breathing slowly coming back to normal. You squeeze me.
– I love you Annie
– I love you too, Vikka
– Now it’s your turn, Annie, I want to make you come too. But first I need to pee!
– Oh no, you don’t; not yet…not yet…
