Not A Word To Grace - Sex Stories

Not A Word To Grace

... to torture me, first. The caress of the cool air on wet saliva was enough to give my whole body goosebumps. I tingled, moaning when the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Looking down at her, the need I was feeling must’ve burned into her. I saw her gaze soften and a smile creep across her lips. I watched, waiting for and needing her touch. She lowered her head while my breath remained trapped in my lungs. I waited and waited, then gave out a single almighty breath of relief. Her lips gently pressed to my lip and slid down the firm, aching shaft she held delicately between her fingers. Her mouth spread and she was slowly filled with my grateful cock. Beginning to bob on my length, taking me deeper, she was grinning up at me around my manhood. I could only watch in awe and total pleasure as I disappeared into her plump lips and her beautiful face buried itself in my pelvis. “Oh, god yes, suck me you gorgeous fucking slut!” My words were impulsive, but she responded. She was suddenly given even more energy, causing her to suck me harder and harder while she impaled herself on my dick. I could feel my body tensing as she sucked me better than I could ever have expected. I held her head in my hands and encouraged her, stroking her hair and occasionally pressing her deeper onto my length. She spluttered and gasped, looking up at me with a lascivious grin, flicking the underside of my tip with her tongue. “Again.” “Whatever you say, slut.” Again I pressed her down, ...

... forcing my entire length into her throat until she gagged a little and settled around me, clenching around my length. Her hands still explored my body, gently rubbing over my skin with ceaseless energy. As her lips sealed around the base of my meat, her nails bit into my skin in celebration. *** I shivered at the memory of the night before, shaking my head to settle myself. I grinned widely, glancing around the room at the writhing bodies decorating the floor and furniture. One gorgeous brunette was on her knees in the centre of the room, rubbing her face greedily around the shaft of the man standing over her – his head had fallen back in awe. She worshipped his manhood, running it through her hands and catching it in her mouth with little sucks and flicks of her tongue, teasing him to greater and greater heights. I didn’t care. My brain was elsewhere. I turned and left the room, heading up the stairs almost at a trot. I wanted to see my lover. My mind was filled with the image of her beautiful ass swaying in green panties, the hitched up dress and that wicked, sexy grin as my cock was taken into her throat. I reached the landing and stopped with my hand on the bedroom door. Frowning, something slowly dawned on me and a realisation snapped into place. I glanced down at the door knob in my hand. The other side of the knob had panties on it. Pink panties. My eyes closed and I tried to remember my trip up the stairs the night before. I could see her in my mind. I could see the long, ...