Getting comfortable with it

I love when you shave the boys. I can see, touch every inch of your skin. It is wrinkled, exposed – asking to be touched to be licked.

I touch your wrinkly ball sack first. I examine your soft skin with my fingers. You are sitting naked on your computer chair. I kneel down in front of you and lean forward for a kiss. You pull our naked bodies close together as our tongues dance in our mouths.

After we break apart, I kiss my way down your chest. I have to hold myself back from just diving straight for your cock. I want to, you want me too. But still, the delay is delicious.

Finally, I taste you. I lick the underside of your balls up, up, up toward the base of your cock. Then the tip calls to me. I lick around the ridge of your cockhead and down over your shaft. With each stroke of my mouth I spread wetness over you so I can slide up and down smoothly with no resistance.

I keep my eyes open while I lick you. I notice your veins, the different shades of your skin.

I bury my face between your legs and lick, lick, lick. In the meantime, I'm sliding my hand up and down your shaft.

My mona begins to respond. She tingles. She grows wet. She makes me moan, a muffled sound around your cock in my mouth.

“Here,” you say, “I'll move down.”

You scoot your ass forward until it hangs off the edge of the chair. It's an invitation I'm glad to accept.

Once again, I lick your asshole. My tongue explores the ridges and textures. Over and over, I lick my way up, past your perineum and to your balls. I feel your cock pulse with pleasure in my hand.

“Lick all over,” you say. “Lick everything.” And I do.

Finally, I can't take it anymore. I stand up and take your hand.

“Let's go to the bedroom,” I say, and you follow me willingly.