thighs and squeeze her against me. Our hips meet. I can sense the heat dribbling between her legs. I dive back down to kiss her again, even harder than before. She gives back every bit of the same intensity, pushing her mouth into mine, not caring if it is neat or pretty. We want to taste each other as fully as possible. I want to fill my mouth with her. I want to make her mine.
My fingers slip from the outside of her thigh to the inside. She still feels as delicate as she did the first time we held each other, when a flying chunk of metal had tried to end this before it even started. What a pity that would have been, if I had died before I got to find out what it was like to hold Kendra against me. Now that she’s here and in my arms, I need to savor every second.
She’s got a taste as unique as she is. It’s sweet and salty all at once, and I take my time exploring every corner of her mouth while my fingers tap dance teasingly near the edge of her lingerie. I can feel her body responding to my touch automatically. It knows what it wants, even if she isn’t aware of it yet. There’s still a sense of hesitation to her. Every flutter of her tongue is hungry, desperate to touch and be touched, but lingering there on the edge is the slightest pause before everything she does. She isn’t sure if she can trust me yet.
Frankly, I don’t blame her.
But the time for trust will come later. Right now, this is about carnal desire. This is about my tongue on hers, my body on hers, my heat on hers. This is about smashing together and leaving all the worries off until later. When I run my finger softly on the outside of her panties just over the warmth of her mound, I hear her letting go of the last vestiges of concern.
“Mortar…” she whimpers.
“Trust me,” I tell her. That’s the only way this whole thing will work.
She squeezes my back with her palms, raking nails gently down my sides. Our ankles are locked together, bringing our hips to grind against each other with an intensity that keeps growing with each rotation. My hand keeps dancing around her inner thighs, swooping close to the seat of her desire and then away again. Tease, retreat, repeat.
“I can’t take it anymore,” she tells me. “Don’t tease me.”
I grin. “We’ll get there.”
She tries to coo a soft, “No,” but I cut her off with another plunge of my tongue. I’ve never been so aware of the passion building between two people tangled in each other. Usually, my goal is to get in and get out as quickly as possible. No sense in delaying what I came here for.
But with Kendra, it’s different. I wonder why. What is there about this girl that makes me want to take my time? Why am I more concerned with sending pleasure racking through her body than I am about getting my own nut? It’s such a departure from my standard operating procedure that I don’t even know how to start thinking about it. Nothing else to do but follow what I want. Right now, what I want is to see Kendra squirming on my cock.
I roll to the side so I can more easily access Kendra’s pulsing sex. She’s wet against my fingertips in spite of the lace that separates her skin from my touch. I rub the heel of my hand with an easy pressure against her mound, loving the way she pushes her hips back against me in response. Then, with the softest hint of a fingertip, I slip beneath the fabric and rest my finger on her opening. Like I’m playing a piano, the note that comes out of her mouth is pure and beautiful.
“More,” she gasps. She sounds like she is close to coming already. I can’t blame her for being so eager. The intensity vibrating between us has me harder than I’ve ever been in my life. But instead of being impatient to dive in, I want to draw out every step with excruciating persistence. Let us wait. Let us burn longer. Let us burn hotter.
I kiss her neck while I keep my finger pressed gently on her
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