~ erotica ~
"How good is your control?" I asked him.
I was sleepy, having just woken up from his good morning text. His early job meant he'd been awake for several hours already.
I was used to this nudge from my slumber. Even though I was only half awake, I still liked texting him in the morning, still liked this bit of connection to start my day.
"What do you mean?"
But because I was texting him, as we often do throughout our day, I was horny. Just the thought of him, of all the things we'd done, of all the times we'd fucked, brought a fire to my abdomen like no other lover had.
"How good is your control when you cum? Say, if I wanted you to fuck me hard, pounding my pussy the way you and I both love, but then pull out and fuck my face just as you are about to cum, could you do that?"
I knew what he'd say before the answer appeared on my phone.
"Yes. I could do that."
Always so confident, so sure. It was just one of the reasons why I was in no rush to let him go.
"Could you do it... even without a condom?"
Again, I knew his response.
"Yes, I could do that. But are you ready for that?"
I thought about the feel of his cock as I slid my slickness across his member. I thought about the tease of him not entering me, just trailing his manhood across my lips, and tapping my clit every so often. I thought about the delicious tickle of his dick so close to entering me.
I thought about the first time we fucked, how right it felt to have him inside me. How he pulled my hair and bit my neck. How he devoured my pussy first, brought his messy face to my lips for an impassioned kiss, then went right back to enjoying me.
I thought about the time in the park, dark and cold, sneaking just off the gravel path where no one would see us. Dropping to my knees and pulling out his cock, his hand in my hair as I enjoyed sucking and stroking his member with my tongue.
I thought about the old church in Puerto Rico on our vacation a few months ago. Sneaking into the confessional. Him dropping to his knees and lifting the hem of my dress. How sweat suck to my skin like tar. How I covered my mouth with both my hands trying so hard to not scream my ecstasy.
"Yeah, I think we're ready for anything."
The Rude Pundit's Annual Nativity-palooza, Now with Bonus Cultural
Insensitivity
-
Like movies about suicidal snowmen and tortured ghosts and pole-frozen
tongues, some things are a tradition around the rude house. Beloved reruns
are good ...
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