His fingers slide into my waistband, under my panties. “Yes.” His eyes darken and it’s clear he’s not referring to my BG level anymore. “But don’t worry. I’m going to do all the work.”
“You will, huh?”
“Yeah.” He surges to his feet and in two steps drops my ass on the bed. He strips down so fast. His shirt flies off his head and his jeans and underwear fall to the floor in no time. He stands before me like the “small g” god that he jokingly called himself.
His body is perfectly formed, a testament to a careful diet and nonstop workouts. He has hair on his chest, a light dusting over his pectorals and a darker trail that leads right down to his penis. He leans forward, his shaft hanging heavy between us, and plants a hand on either side of my waist.
“I can’t wait to get my mouth on you and test out how good you taste.”
He lifts me with one hand and somehow drags down my jeans with the other until I’m wearing nothing but my camisole around my waist and a pair of damp lavender lace panties.
“I can’t wait to feel you and test out how wet you are.”
“Matthew,” I warn.
“What? Does the dirty talk embarrass you?” He slips a finger between my legs. “I told you I like to talk during sex. Besides, even if you’re turning redder than the Oklahoma uniforms, it turns you on. I’m going to suck on your clit here.” He rubs my clit, and I can’t deny the flood of excitement that washes through me. “And then tongue-fuck your sweet pussy until you come all over my face.”
I grow wetter and redder with each word. “Matt, shut up.”
He laughs and strokes me again over my panties. “You know this is the Aussie kiss. Because I’m doing you down under.”
“Shut up!” I repeat with a half groan, half laugh.
“I don’t know if I can. Maybe you have some idea about what I can do with my mouth.” His tone is light but his gaze is hot and hungry. Another finger presses against my aching core, then those two fingers sweep my panties away to touch my bare skin.
But the touch is maddeningly light. He looks at me, waiting.
I give in because I want this so bad. “You should get on your knees and put your mouth on my…pussy.” I push the word past my lips.
His eyes light up in mischief. “Yes, ma’am.”
He does just as I ordered. He falls to his knees and pulls the rest of my clothes off. And as he did with my breasts, he takes his time.
First he looks, telling me how gorgeous I am. Then he traces the rough pad of his finger over every peak and valley. I think I should be embarrassed at how exposed I am, but he doesn’t allow it. I can hear the obvious pleasure and delight he takes in just looking at me, and when he finally does place his lips and tongue against me, it’s as if he’s never done anything so marvelous in his life. It’s crazy how good this feels.
I lie back, close my eyes and give myself over to Matt. His hands dig into my butt, simultaneously kneading me and pulling me closer. In his strong grip, I don’t need to be careful because he’s there to catch me, to carry me, to hold me. And as regressive as that is, it feels wonderful.
The release starts in my toes and winds its way up, twisting and curling until I’m gasping for air. I tug on his head, wanting him to let go, but he shakes me off and delves deeper. His tongue arrows into me, drawing the tension so tight that it’s either give in or implode. I come so hard I nearly pass out.
He holds me as I shake, still drinking me down as if he can’t get enough. Only when I’ve calmed enough to open my eyes does he draw back. His mouth is glistening with the evidence of my enjoyment.
A few seconds later and he’s on the bed, condom in hand.
“How’s the risk/reward assessment going?”
“I’m taking points away if you keep bringing that up,” I warn.
“Fair enough. Which one of us is going to put this on the big guy?” He grins, but there’s a tension behind that smile, a feral need that he’s trying to hide so I won’t be scared off.
I raise my hand, and he slaps the condom into my palm. “Of course you call it big.”
I place one corner of the foil between my teeth and tear.
“Even if I had a tiny dick, I’d say it was a big one. I’d lie to myself until I believed it. No man can walk around with any confidence if he believes his dick is too small.”
“You don’t seem to lack confidence, that’s for sure.” He’s entirely comfortable in his nudity.
“Because I’m big.” He even reaches down to pat his dick, which is, as he describes, big. And actually sort of beautiful. The mushroom-shaped head is flushed an angry red, and the veins push prominently against the skin. He looks…virile and manly and the opposite of me. And even though I’m not one for male nudity, the sight of him on my bed—unclothed and erect—is mouthwatering.
I position the reservoir over the ruddy head of his penis and begin to roll it down. I don’t get much past the head before he puts a hand out to halt me.
“Wait,” he says and pulls my hand away. He holds it to the side while he finishes covering himself with the condom.
“What?”
He closes his eyes for a moment, and when he flashes them open, the bare hunger is no longer shielded. “I’m too close to the edge and would like to be inside you for at least a couple of seconds before I blow my lid.”
He tries to smile, but there’s too much want there to be disguised, and it instills a confidence in me, a surety, that I never really had with a male before. I crook my finger. “I figure you’re good for another round. You did buy a whole box.”