Chapter Twenty Routine #2
“Licking your pussy while you get fucked with a toy. That sounds like it should be fun.” I escalate the buzzing and watch in awe as her opening swallows the toy right up.
“That’s in so deep—so fast.” Ingrid gropes her own breasts, eyes closed.
I hold onto the small round base and push it deeper inside, aiming up, listening to the spot where her noises sound the most intense. When I hear them, I turn up the buzzing, hold it there, and suck on her clit for all I’m worth.
“Holy fuck!” I scream as the most intense orgasm to date rips through me.
I blame the tea for making me so sensitive, so receptive.
I also blame King for being so open to new things, for ravishing me with his mouth and a toy at the same time, making me imagine debauched things.
“Oooh. What’s that thought? I heard you sigh, and you got even wetter,” King whispers.
“Nothing.”
“Sweetie likes when her pussy gets licked while it’s wrapped around a big cock?”
“I— Yeah. I mean, not with two people, but the sensation.”
King reaches for the purple bag and brings out the considerably larger, wider toy I purchased in hopes of “training” myself to take more than just his tip and the inch or two after it.
“That... I was hoping to get ready for...” My brain doesn’t make great sentences after an orgasm.
“So let’s get ready. You lie back and let me do all the work.”
She’s so gorgeous, and so erotic, kissing me deeply, her tongue stroking mine, even flicking against my tusks. “You taste extra good. I think the tea makes you taste even sweeter. Or maybe it’s just because there’s so much more to enjoy.”
I lie against her side, careful of my bad knee, my larger frame covering hers. While we kiss, my hand slips between her thighs, working them wider apart, one finger, two fingers, then three sliding into her so easily.
“My cock would slide right in—but how much could you take?” I hold up the new toy, thick and rubber and pale peach in color, against my own length. It’s not quite as wide or long, and definitely doesn’t have the knot. “It’s the knot part that might be tricky.”
“Haven’t tried.”
“Want to? With me?”
Ingrid’s kiss is answer enough. Her hand digs into my shoulder as I kiss my way south, the toy slowly burrowing in as I listen to her sounds. The little hums. The little gasps. The short, sharp noise as she narrows around the widest part.
“You look so pretty with that cock stretching you open,” I praise, biting softly on her thigh, moving onto her mound.
“But my favorite sight is going to be when my cock is the one sliding in and out... My come spilling out of you.” I nuzzle against her clit and work the toy in and out much more slowly than I want to, savoring the wet sounds it makes on each thrust. I aim up, making sure to trail the silicone toy against her upper wall, hoping I can capture that elusive spot that makes her moan my name.
King is the most unselfish lover I’ve ever had, and not at all what I thought he’d be like based on our first interaction.
He’s slow and patient. Better, he’s creative and curious.
Pushing my limits like he pushes my thigh up over his shoulder, his face and hands up close and personal between my legs.
“I wanna find the spot that makes you come every time.”
“It takes time, usually,” I caution, teeth tight, eyes shut as I feel myself opening around the toy, expanding, as if my walls have lost their resistance.
But they haven’t. They jump and clamp as King burrows a finger in against the top of the toy, long, thick digit stroking up and down. It feels like a live wire running against the underside of my already sensitive clit.
“How can human men not feel this?” King huffs. His finger presses up and taps on the soft, saturated wall, finger rocking in an arc as he laps at my folds.
“Oh, fuck!” I sit halfway up and grab for his wrist, eyes rolling back. “Oh, my fucking goodness, yes!” I screech as his finger strokes in a semi-circle.
“Mm. You’re nice and full here. Swollen up inside. Juicy inside.” There’s a hungry, dangerous chuckle that sends shivers up my spine, fighting for dominance over the electric delight of my overstimulated nerve endings.
Too much.
The loving looks with the naughty mouth.
The tongue teasing the swollen bead pushed high by his fingers and the toy.
His fingers, making those rainbows of ecstasy inside of me, while my pussy is stuffed so full that I wonder if knotting tea is actually some magical potion.
It shouldn’t all fit. He shouldn’t be able to make me feel like this. I shouldn’t be screaming with my hand in his hair and his mouth grunting against me. “I want you inside, instead of the toy,” I demand.
“Not full enough?” he adds a second finger, and I curse at the sting of stretching pain that dissipates and snaps back to glorious pleasure.
“I just... I want you. Not the toy. It feels amazing, but I’d rather have you,” I pant. “And I’m so close, so close, so close...” I babble and tug as if to move him on top before remembering that’s impossible.
King leaves me with one long, lingering lick and rolls to his back. “I wanted to watch you for longer, but you always get what you want, Ingrid. That’s my rule. I always want you to be happy. I want to be what makes you happy.”
“You are. You are who makes me happy.” And confident. And sexy. “Wanna show?”
His eyes light up, and he licks his lips. “God, yes. Please.”
She kneels in front of me and leans back, smooth, soft white abdomen with its extra pouch begging for me to cuddle it, but my hands are busy. One wraps around my cock and pumps. The other holds the toy steady as Ingrid impales herself on it, her hips gliding up and down.
My hands are slippery, both of them. Her juices flow down, but I grip the toy until I’m worried I’ll snap it.
The other hand is slick, but it’s my fault—well, it’s Ingrid’s fault, too, because my cock is leaking, endless streams, soaking me in ways I didn’t know were possible just from watching her riding, dreaming it’s me.
Knowing in seconds, in minutes, it could be me. “Ingrid... I’m not going to last long the first time if we don’t—” I don’t finish the sentence. If I don’t fuck her right now? If I don’t come first?
Ingrid moves like soft, silky lightning, a sexy, curvaceous goddess tempting her most ardent worshipper to say to hell with his injured leg, grab her, and haul her underneath me...
“Keep fucking me, and I’ll take care of it.”
“You do. You take care of me, sweetie, and I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.” I catch her hand as she pivots, and we share a long, heated look that has more than lust. “Always,” I repeat.
Ingrid nods after a second, and then...
“Goddess. Oh, goddess! My goddess!”
Am I down on three of four limbs, my naked body flush with King’s, my pussy in his face, my hand and my mouth wrapped around his cock?
Yep.
And apparently, it’s caused King to have some kind of religious conversion.
I lap the tip of his cock, my hand sliding up and down, followed by my open mouth, biting and sucking on the beautiful, rich green skin.
“Ingrid, my goddess, oh, God!”
Oh. I’m the goddess.
I toss my hair, partly out of necessity, and partly because I feel sexy. I’m a goddess. I have this young stud under me, his hand on my ass, his other pumping a toy in and out of me.
No. Not some young hunk. I have King. My friend. My person.
He’s... Younger, sure. But earnest, and finding his way, and I’m still finding mine.
And I love being with him.
I love him.
I force my jaw wider, swallowing his tip and then some, his huge crown filling the back of my throat as I lock both my hands around his knot.
“Ohhhh... Oh fuck! Fuck, Ingrid!” his voice comes out high and reedy, and his cum follows, hitting the back of my throat and making me splutter.
Don’t care. We’re a mess.
I’m not embarrassed. The mess is unifying. Sexy mess.
Our mess.
He’s my mess. And I can be his.
“Sit on my cock. Sit on me, sweetie, right now.” King grabs my hips, and suddenly I’m on his chest, a squeaking cum-covered, giggling mess.
“What? You’re not—”
“I’ll fit inside of you better this way.” He manhandles me like a doll, but I don’t mean he’s rough. I’m just—light in his hands, and everything is fast, and hot, and explosive.
“You can get hard again—all the way?”
“If I don’t, it’s still going to feel good. I’ll still make you come. Ingrid, I—”
He’s starting to move, to scoot up, and I can just picture Kevin’s face if I explain how I broke the patient.
Hell, I’d have to explain to the whole town.
“I’m here. I’m here.” I plant my hands on his shoulders, pausing to wipe my mouth on the edge of the sheet—only to find him grabbing my neck and fusing our lips together, apparently not caring that his cum is still on my lips.
Tusks bump my chin. Poke my cheeks. Everything about him is desperate. His hands in my hair, on my shoulders, then my waist.
He already came. He doesn’t need this.
Wants this. Wants me.
“You want me?” I whisper.
King looks at me with confused eyes. “You need to ask?” he pants between ever more reckless kisses.
“I like knowing.”
“Know it with all your heart. I want you. I love you, Ingrid.”
My hand grips his hard cock, still hard, still huge, but maybe a little less so. The toy left me limbered up, and the tea left me so stretchy, supple, and slick. Maybe it’ll be easy.
“Here we go. Here we go,” I murmur to both of us.
“Don’t force anything. Nice and slow. I just want to feel myself inside of you again,” he says as he steadies me.
“I want that, too.” I want more. I want him to go to the places that toy went, I want to feel myself strained to the limits, to feel that winding, building pleasure that makes my walls thrum and my pussy squeeze without any conscious effort.
When I’m with him... Things just happen.