Pussyfooting around

Last night started with me rubbing her feet with aromatic lotion and ended with my face in her pussy.

She told me straight away that I wasn’t getting out. I like that kind of certainty. I like when she tells me how it’s going to be and I don’t need to waste any energy thinking about it. I like it when she doesn’t mess around and just tells me things like she’s the boss. Because that’s what she is and it’s sexy to hear her own it.

The foot massage was long and indulgent. I got new foot lotion and it lasted a long time so I just kept going. Can’t say how long it was, but I guess it was close to 45 minutes. She made appreciative little sounds and that made me feel warm and loved.

Before she let me make her come, she fingered the Steelheart and ran her fingers over my balls. The sack got tight as the penis pressed against its confinement. Being so close to her, face to face, breath to breath, and having her tease me that way makes me feel dopey and light-headed. It’s coming up on six months since my last orgasm and the power of tiny little touches is amplified and reamplified by my hormone load.

As she took off her clothes so I could go to work, I leaned back and felt the device’s bite as the straining penis flopped heavily from one side to the other. I hungrily sucked on her tits and ran my fingers around her snatch, teasing her lightly. Getting her juices going.

After rubbing her clit for a few minutes, she asked me if I’d go down on her. That’s cute. Fucking yes, of course I would. Always. And asking makes it sound like I have a choice. I’ll do whatever she wants. Whatever she says. Always.

I licked and lapped over the folds of what feels sometimes like the center of my universe and reached up with my hand to finger her nipples. I had a hard time getting into a position where I could lay on my stomach with a hard locked-up penis crushed between me and the bed. Belle “helped” by reaching her foot down and using her toes to play with my balls and the hard, hard tube while I buried my face in her. She came nicely and I lingered between her legs, breathing deeply on her pheromones.

She fell asleep quickly. Me, not so much. Even after I found it, sleep was fitful. I was preoccupied with being as close to her as possible. With being able to feel some part of her or hold her or just rest my head against her body. I woke up this morning pressed up against her still. I wrapped my arms around her and felt the tube filled with morning erection press between us.

I admitted to her that leaving me in like that during sex was good for me. It was hard to say, not because I didn’t think it was true. I do. All the way down. I can feel that it’s true. But there’s a not inconsequential part of me that’s been spoiled with all the pussy access lately. I wanted out. I wanted to be inside her. I wanted to edge myself right up to the point of orgasm and then stop so I could feel the single surge of ejaculate flow through me and into her. But not being able to do that left me feeling so close to her. So needful of her. So much more devoted to her.

That’s what this is all about, after all.

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