“Shit,” I mouthed when a quick glance down showed my dripping juices falling on his waiting tongue. Once he’d had enough, he gripped my hips tighter and drew me closer to his mouth.
Our lips met, his horizontal, mine vertical and he plied my juicy lips apart, pulling and sucking them between his own. His tongue, his damn blessed tongue, lapped up every drop I leaked. He brushed it across every nerve ending, making me gasp and choke on my loud moans.
I forgot all about being on the dining room table. We probably looked like two depraved animals, but we didn’t give a shit.
“Ar…jen.” I hissed out his name, breaking it up as his tongue took possession of me, controlling my whole body. He could have ordered me to do anything at this moment, and I would have listened. He licked everything, his tongue exploring far and wide, licking the star of my ass to the top of my pussy and everything in between.
When he yanked me down by the hips and helped me ride his face, my ass caught the Holy Ghost because I was speaking the language. My hands were planted on his chest for leverage while I rode his face like I was riding a dick. He twirled his tongue around my clit before pulling it between his lips, which had my juices flowing so fast and hot the sensation had me choking on each harsh breath.
The moment he sank his tongue deep inside and stroked my clit at the same time, I was done. I came on impact, yelling a bunch of mumbo-jumbo about him tongue-fucking me while throwing his name into the mix.
I couldn’t even recall how he had crawled from under me because my ass had collapsed into a heap of shakes and shivers, and I was laying on my side atop the table. He moved me around and lifted until I was positioned on my shaky elbows and brought me back with a series of gentle strokes along my chest and stomach.
I eased up further, my spent body managing to work with me this time. My eyes were on his, but something else was calling my attention, his dick standing and pointing at me like a third arm.
“Please have a seat. I don’t want a taste of that. I need one.”
He picked up his chair that had toppled in our haste and positioned it closer before taking a seat. His eyes on me may as well have been his hands sliding over my skin.
I stood on wobbly legs to start my session, still buzzing from my orgasm. Shaky fingers played along his body while I stalked around the chair, leaning down and kissing him, tasting my pussy on his tongue. By the time I completed my circle, his eyes hung heavy with burning lust and a slight shiver was coursing through him.
I stepped between his legs before nudging them further apart. His big bobbing dick beckoned me closer as precum glistened off the head, seeping hot and clear.
“Wait,” he stopped me from dropping to my knees with a firm hand on my waist. He bent over, and his long arms reached out until he retrieved my discarded dress, folding it quickly.
“I don’t want any part of you bruised unless I put it there in passion. Let’s put this under your knees.”
“Thank you,” I said, my words a whisper. Arjen was full of surprises, and each one he displayed was welding me that much tighter to him. The smile he created within me started in my heart before it was sent up to my lips.
The affection he had expressed poured into me, the gesture flooring me. I stood in place, staring at him until I shook off the haze, and my eyes fell back to the magnificently long and hard piece calling for my attention.
Finally, I dropped to my knees and took my time admiring it up close before I reached out and cupped it. The pink skin stretched tight, the head crafted like a deep pink plush heart with a series of small V’s that lead up the crown of the head.
One tongue stroke was all it took, and I was hooked on the feel, the taste, and the thick fullness of it in my mouth. Nothing could have forced me away from Arjen’s dick. When my tongue brushed circles around the head, he groaned as his eyes widened at the action. Was it supposed to feel this good to me, pleasuring my husband?
Shallow strokes worked him in and out of my hot mouth until I greedily took him deeper, loving his sweet flavor.
“Mecca. My Goddess,” he stated on a winded breath. He gripped my hair, messing up the fresh hairdo that I had gotten done a few hours before I came home. I stared up at him while I worked, wanting his reaction, needing to know what quenched his desires. He dipped his head to get a peek at me taking him deep as my hand caressed and swiveled around his shaft.
Deepening my strokes had his head poking at my throat and I sucked harder, loving his verbal responses as well as his groans and roars.
“Aww! Shit, baby!”
His strained muscles jumped, and his chest heaved in response to his harsh inhales and exhales. I worked my hands around his hard, veiny shaft, velvety soft on the outside and savagely hard underneath. When I allowed it to sweep and dip down my throat, he went crazy.
“Shit. I can feel your throat clenching around me. Oh! Fuck!”
His hand tightened, pulling my hair as his other gripped the table at my shoulder. I slurped and sucked, gagged, and bobbed like my life depended on it. I believed I was getting off as much as he was because my damn pussy was dripping wet and pulsing like crazy. My body was bustling with enough contact pleasure that I was getting high.
“Mecca! Baby. Shit, I’m there.”
He erupted, so much cum so fast, I couldn’t swallow it quick enough as some spilled past my lips, drizzled down my chin, and slid over his jerking dick and balls. I eased my mouth up and down, letting my tongue brush light strokes along the shaft as he continued to revel in his pleasure. He was rubbing my head and tousling my hair with one hand as the other kept a death grip on the edge of the table, so hard his arm was shaking.
If this was what married life had to offer, I would’ve signed up long ago. Was it possible that we could actually make this work?