You’ve got to come, you have to, you’re ready to explode. When you do, he drinks you down like a man dying of thirst. You feel as if your soul is pouring into him and it’ll never be enough to satiate him, you’ll never in a million years manage to quench this desire that consumes him, this lust.
Gently he eases your thermals up to cover your wilting nakedness, re-buttons your jeans, and settles in the narrow space between your body and the back of the loveseat. He’s still watching you, silent, almost waiting, and because you don’t know what’s on his mind, you run a finger over his damp lips and tell him, “You’re amazing.”
He grins like he already knows this. His lips part and your finger slips into his mouth—you feel his tongue curl around your fingertip and his teeth close down playfully
