Using the pads of his thumbs to separate the lips of my pussy, he ran his tongue over the opening of my channel and then to my clit, and then did it again. And then he flickered his tongue inside me, a strange, wet, warm, wriggling sensation that left me breathless, aching, unable to even gasp. Alien, bizarre, yet so sosoamazing. I never wanted this to stop. I didn’t even want to orgasm yet, I just wanted to feel his tongue and lips on my pussy, on my clit, inside me. Again and again, he licked against the opening and then my clit, and then slid his tongue in, withdrew it, flicked my clitoris, slid his tongue back in, then licked me top to bottom. There was no pattern, which was maddening and amazing at the same time. Because I’d partially lied to myself: I did want to orgasm. I wanted it so bad, now, that it was nearly physical pain. And I sensed that unless he gave me a pattern and rhythm I could sink into, I wouldn’t be able to reach that plateau.
“Baxter…” I moaned. He hummed an interrogatorymmm-hmmm?without stopping what he was doing. “I need…”
He flicked my clitoris with his tongue, and then backed away to murmur, “Tell me what you need, Eva.”
“I need to come.”
“You want to come, huh?”
I gasped. “Yes, so bad. I don’t justwantto, Ineedto.”
“In that case, Eva…” He slid a middle finger inside me and curled it, massaging a specific spot high and deep inside me that sent insanity blasting through me, wild and bashing heat that squeezed my core and my belly and my mind in a vise grip, “I think you should come. Right…now.”
After he said the wordnow, he fluttered his tongue against my clit, and then sucked it between his teeth, his finger gliding in and out of my channel, and then he finally gave me a rhythm, his tongue circling around my clitoris in rapid circles, and the heat and the squeezing pressure exploded through me, took over, and I lost all control over my body, my mind, my mouth.
I felt myself screaming out loud as I came, an orgasm so powerful I was helplessly lost within the rippling tsunami of ecstasy. I was thrashing as I screamed, and I had Baxter’s head in my hands and my hips were flexing; I was wantonly grinding my pussy against Baxter’s mouth, taking every lick he gave me and demanding more.
But he didn’t stop. Not when I came. He licked and slid that finger in and out, and then when the orgasm began to crest and fade, he added a second finger and used those two fingers to mimic sex and his flicking, circling tongue changed rhythms, patterns, and directions. Instead of circling, he flicked it side to side, occasionally using his lips to create suction. And with the change in tactics, I felt another wave begin to build inside me and I embraced it, accepted it, welcomed the onslaught of pleasure. Baxter fed the nascent orgasm, carefully and skillfully building it to a crescendo, and I tumbled over the edge a second time, screaming yet again, clutching his head as it shook side to side, his tongue flicking back and forth across my clitoris.
He still wasn’t done.
He withdrew his fingers and just kissed my core, slowly, softly. He let the heat and pressure fade, just a little, and then began slowly building it back up again with a combination of circles and back-and-forth motions of his tongue, giving me one finger, and then two, and then one, mimicking sex and then massaging that spot inside me.
Again, I reached the crescendo and fell over the edge, screaming.
And this time, instead of wordless screams of bliss, I screamed his name. “Baxter! Oh god, Baxter! Yes, yes, yes!”
The orgasms had done me in, left me limp and gasping, and aching, and his touch, no matter how soft or gentle, was too much, too much, almost painful. I was so incredibly hypersensitive that I couldn’t bear another touch.
“Bax, you have to stop. I can’t take any more.” I pulled at his head, tugging him up.
He crawled up my body, hovering over me. “Eva honey, I’m just getting started.”
I stared up at him. “Y-you are?” The stammer should have been embarrassing, but somehow it wasn’t.
“You on birth control?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No. It messes with my hormones and makes me moody, so I stopped. Plus, it’s not like I have any reason to be on it, since I don’t have sex.”
He rose off me. “Be right back.”
“Where are you going?” I asked, hating his absence from above me.
“Out to the truck. There are some condoms in the center console.”
And just like that, he was out the door, still naked, still erect. He left the door wide open, letting the brilliant sunlight of early evening stream in to bathe me. I could see him, and the truck. He yanked open the driver’s side door, leaned in, his taut buttocks flashing in the golden sunlight, rummaged around for a moment, and then withdrew and closed the door, trotting back in. He had a string of square, golden condom wrappers in one hand, and as he trotted his erection swayed side to side. Leaving the cabin door open, he swaggered over to stand at the foot of the bed. Ripping one packet free, he tossed the rest aside and climbed onto the bed.
“You keep condoms in the center console of your truck?” I asked.
He shrugged. “My brothers and I all share the truck, so it’s a shared stash. We keep ’em there as a just-in-case precaution. Better to have ’em when you need ’em, you know?”
“So you guys are very…um, active?”
He laughed. “Babe. You met my brothers. What do you think?”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. “I see your point.” I eyed the one in his hand, and the other four or five he’d tossed aside. “How many do you plan on using, may I ask?”
He grinned at me. “As many as I can.” He tossed the golden foil packet at me, and it landed on my belly. “Starting with that one.”
