This perfect girl unravels, quakes and quivers because of what I’ve done with my tongue. Of all my achievements, all those pictures on the walls, this is the moment I would immortalize above all else.
I ride her down, kissing softly—her pussy lips, her mound, her thighs, her belly—until we’re completely knotted together on the couch, face-to-face, panting like animals.
“You are,” she huffs, face pleasant and glazed with sweat, “a man of many talents…”
“Would you like to sample another of my skills?”
She writhes against me, nodding. “Mhmmm…”
Finally, we kiss.
Our lips seal, opening the path for our tongues to embrace like our naked bodies. My cock is so hard it hurts, pressed up against her tummy, soaking her with precum.
I could stay here all morning, making our first kiss last as long as possible.
When we finally break for air, Sam looks so dazed that she might faint.
“Are you all right?” I ask, wiping the hair from her face.
“Better than all right.” She fans herself. “Sorry, I just got really dizzy. I think my lack of sleep… and what you just did to me… is catching up.”
She glances down at my stiff cock pressed between us.
“God, I want to feel that…” she laughs, sighing deeply and running her fingers up and down my back. “Would you mind if we just lie here for a moment? This is… really nice.”
I can tell she’s overwhelmed—I consider that a compliment.
“Sam, I could cuddle with you all day.”
I guide her head to my chest, letting her use me like a pillow as I stare up at my high ceilings. Funny, the light wooden beams look far more vibrant than they ever have.
Sam hooks her leg over me, pinning my cock down like it’s a wild beast that needs to be contained. She sighs dreamily, tracing my ribs with her finger.
“Just for a bit,” she whispers.
“Of course.”
“Don’t let me fall asleep…”
“I’d never.”
“Seriously,” she yawns, nestles in, and drones, “we’re not done here…”
I smile and run my fingers through her hair. The way her soft breath rolls over my chest lets me know that she’s already out. Poor girl is probably exhausted.
“I know, Sam,” I whisper and kiss her head. “Not by a long shot.”
The monster between my legs is furious that I let Sam sleep. It aches and begs and grows at the sight of her naked and still wet. She doesn’t wake when I get up. For a moment, I just stand here and stare at her, stealing this time when I can gaze unashamed.
I gave her an orgasm with my mouth; it’s fine to look, right?
She’s painted her toenails red since yesterday’s cook-off, a deep shade the color of wine. I get down on my knee, desperate to touch her but keeping my hands to myself. She’s resting on her side, head on her hand, mouth slightly open.
She’s a work of art.
I hurry to the garage, still naked. It doesn’t matter that the doors are wide open: I haven’t got a neighbor who’ll see me on my hill, especially with the poplars lining my driveway. It takes me a minute of rummaging around before I find the little Polaroid camera. Someone gave it to me at the cook-off last year as a way to make memories. It spits a small picture out after you snap a shot. Old technology, but I guess these things are trendy right now. I only used it a few times.
Back in the living room, I kneel again and frame Sam’s angelic body in the morning light. She stirs, and I take the picture the moment she settles. The photo comes out black and slowly develops into a perfect square filled with her form. The way her side dips and rises into her hip makes my cock jump again—the black vine with little thorns bends and weaves down her thigh.
