He's Never Made Me Come - Sex Stories

He's Never Made Me Come

... inner part of one thigh, I delicately scratched the other. She cried out as her hips bucked, inching her lower in her chair and nearer to my mouth, and causing her skirt to ride up further, exposing her silk underwear and the considerable damp patch to me. I kissed further up the inside of her thigh, until I was only a couple of inches away from the damp material that covered her. I traced my fingertips slowly up her thigh to the very edge of the silk material. She gasped and held her breath, biting down hard on her lower lip. Slowly, slower than I’d ever touched anybody before, I ran my finger over the soft material, over the folds of her desperate centre. “Ahhh!” she cried out, a high-pitched, feverish sound, as her whole body tensed up. This one touch seemed to drive her need and frustration to a new level and her hips pushed up towards me as she desperately tried to find more pressure. I gently but firmly pushed her hips back down into the chair as she whimpered in protest. Holding her still with both hands, I lowered my mouth to her and pressed my lips against the sodden material. She groaned loudly and tried to buck her hips against me, but I kept my hold firm, and my lips still. “Oh...God!” she moaned, her voice now shaking with need. “Please...” I slowly and gently grazed my teeth over the fabric, causing her whole body to shudder, then pressed my lips to her again, this time applying a little more pressure. “Uhhh... h... uhhh!” The moan caught in her throat. ...

... “Please... I need more... please!” Her skin was on fire, her face flushed and sweaty. Her every intake of breath had become a gasp, and her exhalations alternated between sighs and moans. It occurred to me that probably nobody had ever taken so much time over arousing her before, that she’d never been worked up into such a state of desperation. Her underwear were soaked through. I hooked my finger in the crotch and carefully pulled it to one side. I glanced up, wary that this exposure might make her self-conscious again, but her eyes were still squeezed tightly shut and her hands roamed over every inch of her body. She was still lost in pure fantasy. I lowered my mouth towards her again, close enough that she could feel my hot breath on her. “Mmmhhhmmm,” she whimpered, still trying to push her hips towards me. I touched my lips softly to her labia, one side, then the other. She was panting now. I kissed directly above her swollen clit and she cried out in frustration. I traced the tip of my tongue the length of her slit, amazed at how wet she was, stopping just short of her most sensitive spot. “Ahhhhhuhh, please!” I knew what she was asking for. But I figured that after waiting a whole lifetime, another minute wouldn’t hurt. I repeated the process again: gentle kisses and a long, slow lick, being careful never to touch where she needed me to. Her desperate pleas grew louder, her hips straining harder as I struggled to hold her still. I kept repeating this sequence as she grew wilder ...