We moved our sex party for two to the bedroom, kissing all the way to the bed. Finally, he pulled back and rose from the bed to completely undress, leaving him now as naked as I was. I stared at the sculpted body hungrily, my eyes following the happy trail to the hot, hard tool I was quivering to be reacquainted with.
Jean’s dick was so hard, thickened, and leaking a lot of precum. My eyes glazed in want when he stroked himself absently, watching my spent body on his bed. I licked my lips, wanting badly to taste him. I had missed this cock so much.
“I want to taste,” I told him, leaving my lazy position on the bed.
He looked conflicted, and I understood his dilemma. He wanted to fuck my mouth, but at the same time, he was eager to lose himself in my wet pussy, and he was so horny and hard that he was afraid he might not last in my mouth.
“Just a little taste,” I begged, licking my lips as I stared at his delicious meat.
“D’accord (okay), since you beg so beautifully. But not too much. I’m close,” he cautioned but finally agreed.
He brought his engorged cock to my lips, tapping it lightly across them. I looked up at him, anxiously waiting for permission to continue. It was a game we played, and I knew not to start until he gave the order.
“Open.”
I felt my clit twitch at the command and opened my mouth to obey. When he pushed forward to gift my lips with a few inches of his hot, hard, man-flesh, I moaned in contentment.
“Suck, but don’t deep-throat. You can use your hands too.”
Delighted, I went to town on his dick, alternating between pumping his dick with my hands and taking a few inches into my mouth. His guttural groans of pleasure egged me on and caused more twitching in my clit.
Fuck, I had missed this cock, I thought again.
Sensing that he was going to stop my delicious snacking soon, I took him a little deeper and peered up at him. He was watching me with heavy-lidded eyes, but when I hummed around his dick, his eyes rolled back, and he muttered a string of words in French I could not understand before pulling me off his dick and stepping back.
He was breathing heavily, trying to hold back his orgasm. I felt a perverse sense of pleasure at seeing him go through the torture he had put me through earlier. I lay back on the bed and slowly rubbed myself, watching him tame his leaking dick.
When he had calmed down enough, he returned to me, spreading my legs. “Your turn.”
That was the only warning I got before I felt the wet tongue on my pussy.
“Fuck, Jean,” I moaned, fingers slipping into his locs. It was still tied at his nape as he had styled it for the event, but our activities had loosened it enough for me to comfortably slip my fingers through the tresses to hold on to dear life as he licked and sucked my whole vulva.
Some men ate you quickly, like a chore they needed to get over with so that they could get to the penetrative fucking they’re really there for. But not men like Jean. Jean ate me slowly, thoroughly, and enthusiastically, enjoying the act almost as much as I was. He was so damn good with his tongue and mouth that I was panting, moaning, and making shameless sexual noises that gave him a clear idea of how much he was blowing my mind through my pussy.
“Fuck, yeah. Your tongue feels soo good on my pussy. You’re eating me so good,” I groaned in between wanton panting and loud moans. He would stick his tongue inside me, fuck me with it for a few seconds, switch to my clit, lick and suck, then lick my whole vulva. The man knew his way around a horny pussy, and the orgasm that was building inside me as a result was going to be epic.
My moans got louder and my words more incoherent as I climbed higher and higher, the talented mouth on my horny flesh increasing its pressure to meet my demands for harder.
I cummed with a scream, squirting my orgasm into his face. It had been a while since I had squirted during sex, but I wasn’t surprised that Jean had made me squirt. He was that good in bed.
I panted, my eyes closing to savor the moment as he rose off me. I was totally wrecked, and we hadn’t even finished for the night. I had already cummed twice, but I was still hungry as fuck for his dick. I heard the bathroom door open and assumed he had gone there to wash my cum off his face.
When I heard his footsteps return to the room, I opened my eyes and watched him as he stared at me, still sprawled on the bed as he had left me, with a smirk filled with male pride and satisfaction teasing his lips.
“Damn, you’re good with your mouth. That was such an amazing head,” I told him honestly.
He grinned. “Pleased to serve, ma chérie.”
Seeing his naked body again prompted a response from my ever-eager-for-Jean vagina. I met him halfway and settled into his kiss, which went on until I was panting in need again.
Jean knew how to kiss, and his fondling game while kissing was top-notch.
“Please, just fuck me. I want you inside me,” I finally pleaded, eager to feel him inside me again after so long.
“I’m just as eager as you are,” he admitted, pulling back. I watched as he grabbed one of the condoms on the nightstand and sheathed himself.
Lying back, I opened my legs wider to give him access, moaning at the deliciousness when I felt him probe my entrance. He groaned as he slid slowly into me, eyes locked with mine while he gave me inch by inch of his hot, hard, manflesh. When he bottomed out, he paused to give me some time to adjust to the stretch.
“Bien? (Good?) he asked.
“Bien,” I confirmed, then he began to move in long, slow strokes.
I tried to move him along to get him to be fast, quick, and hard, but he pinned me still, hot eyes boring into mine, the muscles on his face taut with the effort to keep still.
Then, hands moving to cover both of mine, he gazed at me and began to move passionately but slowly. I gasped at the onslaught of pleasure and a weird emotion I couldn’t place as we stared at each other in desire and if I’m not mistaken, something else. Something delightful but confusing.
No no no. This won’t do, I thought frantically.
“Faster, Jean. And harder,” I urged him, trying to move him along and put a stop to whatever was happening.
He stopped me again with a look that kept me captive, so I let go and allowed him to take us into the dangerous territory of slow love-making.
My eyes glazed over at the sensations overwhelming my body. There was pleasure. So much pleasure. And something more that I didn’t want to name. When it became too much, I closed my eyes to escape from some of it.
“Non, non, non. Open your eyes, chérie. Don’t hide from me,” he commanded softly, still fucking me with a gentle passion that threatened to wreck me.
“Why do you do this?” I whispered as a tear slipped down my cheek. Because I had forgotten how good it was with Jean, how delicious his penis was, and why being with him was dangerous. He liked to blur the lines between us, turning our sessions into something impossible.
He didn’t ask what I was talking about. He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Because I cannot help it,” he finally admitted, leaning forward to kiss the tear that had slipped down my cheek before resuming pumping into my sloppy wet pussy.
My moans became louder, and the pleasure was almost unbearable.
“You make me want things I never desired, and I want to give you something different from what you’re used to,” he continued as he increased the tempo. “I want to make it so good for you that you think of me when you close your eyes. Je vais te faire jouir si fort que tu oublierais ton nom et où tu es.”
I whimpered, overcome by sensations and his words.
”That last part… W-what does it mean?” I asked him breathlessly.
“I’m going to make you cum so hard that you’ll forget your name and where you are,” he answered, then slid out and down to use his talented mouth on my wet pussy again. I gripped the sheets hard as he proceeded to eat me out until I was panting. I felt another orgasm rapidly building, but before I could cum, he stopped and changed position, sitting up against the headboard.
“Come here, baby girl,” he ordered, pulling me up to sit on his lap. He kissed me softly, giving me a taste of myself. When I felt his tongue probing for entry, I opened my mouth to give him admission, deepening the kiss.
“Ride me, baby,” he said after we broke off the kiss to smile at each other.
With his hands on my hips to support me, I wrapped my arms around his neck and lowered myself slowly onto his thick, hard, rod. We both groaned when I was fully seated.
I gave it a few seconds, then, moving slowly off his dick, I sank again, inch by delicious inch. His hands were still on my hip, but he let me control the movements.
I rocked him for a while, alternating between moving up and down and front and back movements. Then, keeping eye contact, I squeezed my vaginal muscles to clamp myself more tightly around him. I felt a surge of power when he groaned my name loudly, eyes rolling back in pleasure.
“Cela m’a manqué. La façon dont ta chaleur humide me saisit comme si elle ne voulait pas me lâcher m’a manqué,” he groaned hoarsely.
I was too far gone to find my voice to speak and ask him to translate, but he did anyway.
“I missed this. I missed the way your wet heat grips me like it doesn’t want to let go.”
Emboldened, I squeezed him some more, then moved in a forward and backward motion, whimpering in pleasure when his dick brushed against my g-spot.
“Fuck, right there,” I moaned, riding him slowly with the practiced skills of a sex worker who knew how to pleasure a man from the top. I was in sexual heaven, and I didn’t want to ever leave.
I loved the sound of his groans telling me how much pleasure I was giving him, and his broken words telling me how good my pussy felt clenched around him in both French and English. It egged me on and made me hornier than ever.
Before I started to strain with the effort of riding him, he took over, helping me to move. With a firmer grip on my hips, he fucked upwards into me for a while before pausing to turn me over onto my back to fuck both of us into orgasm. He knew just how to angle his dick to hit my spot. As he pounded into my sloppy sex, hitting the spot over and over again, I became delirious with pleasurable sensations, forgetting everything but the hot man groaning above me and the dick that was fucking into me and turning me into a mindless, wanton slut.
I came long and hard, my orgasm rolling into me and blinding me momentarily, taking me to a dimension where pleasure angels sang sweet sonnets to my talented fucker.
When we had both calmed down from the intense orgasm and our breathing was back to normal, we grinned at each other.
“That was epic,” I told him.
His grin widened. “Oui, very epic.”
I chuckled. “I did forget my name and everything else.”
He was confused for a second, then, remembering his promise to make me orgasm so hard that I forgot my name, he laughed.
“I must admit, chérie,” he said, leaning forward to peck my lips, “that I forgot mine too.”
We laughed, delighted with each other.
As he led me into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and for us to shower, I knew that I was going to miss him when he left again. But I wasn’t going to think about it at the moment. We had a whole week of pleasure to get through before the goodbyes, and I couldn’t wait to fuck him again.
