12
I honestly didn’t know how I hadn’t already come.
My dick was pulsing insistently, pressed stiffly against my hip.
Watching Ofure come—twice, consecutively—just from the strokes of my thumb, had been the hottest thing that had ever happened to me.
Each orgasm had jolted through my throbbing dick like an electric shock; I was leaking so much pre-come it almost made me afraid I was already coming—in my underwear, completely untouched.
I’d known from the few makeout sessions I’d had in the past that witnessing—and, more importantly, being the cause of my partner’s pleasure was a great turn on for me, but I knew now that actually making them come—making Ofure come—couldn’t even begin to compare.
I glanced up at my best friend, not wanting her to feel too self-conscious about my staring.
But goddamn, her fucking pussy. The smell of her pussy.
All that soft, round belly. Her thick, dimpled thighs.
Jesus Christ, I was practically drooling like a dog, my prick straining.
I could still taste her from the brief moment I’d mouthed at her cunt, and I was dying to feast properly.
I kissed the thigh still resting on my shoulder, then parted my lips, mouthing at the soft, dimpled flesh, then sucking. She whimpered, her thighs trembling a little at the attention. So fucking responsive.
“All right?” I asked, my voice like gravel. “Can I—?”
Her throat bobbed with a swallow, then she nodded quickly. “Yes,” she said, remembering her words. “Please.”
Breathing hard, I adjusted her position a little, tilting her hips further forward. The hand in my hair tightened, the sharp tug going straight to my balls. She pressed her back against the door, lifting her hips for me. That tiny movement was probably the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
“Are you comfortable?” I asked, my eyes flicking from her face to her pussy, to her face again. Christ, my mouth was literally watering in anticipation.
She nodded again. “Yes.”
“You’ll tell me if that changes.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” she said again, her voice higher, breathier.
“All right. I’m going in.”
She laughed, just like I’d expected her to, the sound morphing into a breathy moan when I licked her from the bottom of her pussy to the top, tongue flat.
And like some part of me had known, the moment I got my mouth on her pretty little pussy—the moment I got her taste on my tongue, it was game over.
I was immediately and completely obsessed.
I was never going to be the same man ever again; I was practically going to beg to eat her out every fucking day.
I wouldn’t admit it unless prodded, but the moment we’d made up our minds about this, I’d done copious amounts of research.
Of course, I knew to follow instinct and my partner’s body—and most importantly, their verbal cues—but at the same time, I didn’t want to look too much like the novice that I was.
So, I placed my mouth fully on her pussy and began to lick her out like I was trying to get to the centre of an ice-cream cone. She cried out, her nails digging into my scalp.
“Yes,” she hissed. “Fuck, fuck, yes.”
I made an encouraging noise, looking up at her. Her head was tilted back, and I didn’t know if she was aware of it, but the hand holding the hem of her dress up had moved to one of her tits and was squeezing rhythmically. I felt my dick kick in my underwear at the sight.
The noises she was making, the way she was rocking her hips against my face—
My own hips began to flex, my dick straining uncomfortably. God, God. By the time I made it up to her clit, she was practically vibrating. I sucked on the little sensitive nub, licking and mouthing at it, going feral at all her responses.
She glanced down at me. Her brown skin was flushed, her braids falling out of its bun, curls gently framing her sweating face. Her eyes had never been so dark, her lashes still glistening with the tears of pleasure from her earlier orgasms. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“Can you—” She panted, blushing. “I want—your fingers.”
My dick kicked in my underwear again. Shit. I moved my right hand from her hip and slid it between her legs, feeling around her soft, slick lips for the opening to her pussy.
“Yes,” she gasped out when I found it. “Right there.”
I slid my middle finger in and groaned as it was enveloped in silky slick heat. Tight fucking heat. I awkwardly pumped the digit as I sucked on her clit, trying to think of anything else but the desperate pulsing heat between my own legs.
She rocked her hips into my mouth, against my finger. “Another. Please.”
I fumbled, my hips jerking as I slid a second finger in. Jesus fuck, she was so fucking tight. The thought of how she’d feel clamping around my dick had my balls cramping up, my hips jerking again. Shit. God. Don’t you dare fucking come.
“Yes,” she sobbed, fisting my hair. “Oh fuck, Uzi, just like that, just like that—”
She was so wet my fingers were making a delightfully filthy noise with each thrust into her pussy. Her thighs began to shake. Fuck, was she close already? Fuck, fuck, fuck. I instinctively sped up, wanting to get her there, just as I remembered.
“No, no, don’t speed up,” she confirmed with a desperate cry, her hand tightening painfully in my afro.
I grunted into her pussy. My dick was about two seconds from exploding. I squirmed, then frantically spread my thighs, arching my hips, trying to get even the slightest pressure off my prick to keep myself from coming in my pants like the eager slut that I was.
I had to clench my eyes shut so I could concentrate, painstakingly maintaining that rhythm—sucking and rolling my tongue over her clit, pumping my fingers rhythmically into her soaked pussy until—
She practically tried to yank my hair from its roots as she came, this time completely silently, her thighs vibrating.
Her inner walls pulsed around my fingers, the feeling making me groan.
I didn’t stop, maintaining that same pace with my mouth and fingers until she pushed my head away with a low whine.
I turned my face into her thigh, gasping raggedly. “Goddamn. Fuck.”
It took us a few moments to catch our breaths.
She made a soft noise as I gently eased my fingers out of her.
I licked my fingers clean, groaning again at her sweet taste.
The moment my hand was free, I shoved it between my legs, ruthlessly fisting the base of my erection, further pulling myself back from the edge.
Just as I felt I was no longer in danger of embarrassing myself, her thigh fell from my shoulder.
She pulled me up to my feet, joining our lips in a passionate kiss, then pushed me backward until I was pressed against the edge of my desk.
Then my best friend was the one sinking to her knees, her palms landing on my slightly spread thighs.
And I was immediately back on the edge, my hand flying back to my shaft, squeezing almost painfully tight.
“All right?” she whispered, her hands stroking their way up my thick, clothed thighs. Her lashes were so long. From this angle, all I could see was ample cleavage and bare thighs, her dress pooling around her kneeling form like a colourful bird preening at its mate.
My dick pulsed hotly into my strangled grip. “God, Fure. You look like pure sin like that—down on your knees for me.”
“Yeah?” Her hands found my belt buckle then remained there. The back of her knuckles stroked against the curve of my belly, teasing as fuck. She didn’t move her hands—not that she could, because my own hand was blocking the way, still squeezing my leaking dick tight.
“Let me look at you for a moment.” I tried not to sound too desperate.
“Uzi, baby,” she whispered, her lips tugging up in the corner.
“Yes, Fure, baby?”
“I think you’re stalling.”
“I’m literally going to come the second you even look at my dick.”
A startled laugh burst out of her. Her hands slowly stroked up my thighs as she peeked up at me from underneath her lashes. “I don’t know, that sounds kind of hot.”
“You say that now—”
She laughed again. “I mean it.” She bit her lower lip, her eyes darkening. “It makes me feel sexy. The thought that just eating me out has gotten you this on edge. It’s turning me on so much.”
“Stop talking,” I gritted.
She laughed again. Her hands finally began to move. I tentatively let go of my dick, shuddering the moment I did, my balls tightening. God. No. Don’t you dare, don’t you dare. By some miracle, I didn’t come, even though I was leaking like a faulty tap, my briefs soaked with pre-come.
“All right?” she asked softly, tugging at the waistband of my trousers.
I nodded, throat too thick to speak.
She shook her head with playful disapproval. “Words, Uzi, baby.”
“Yes, Fure, baby. You can take my pants off.”
She made quick work of my button and zipper. I lifted my hips so she could tug both my jeans and underwear down my legs until they were all the way down to my ankles.
“Fuck.” She moaned, staring my dick. “Jesus Christ, Uzi. How have you been walking around with this thing?” It was my turn to be startled by a burst of laughter. She glanced up at me, grinning, then her eyes were back on my dick. “Jesus, Uzi.”
“Stop,” I complained playfully, even though my dick was flexing helplessly, my hips tilting forward, my shoulders puffing up at her admiration.
“All right, then. I’m going in.”
I laughed, and she flashed a pleased grin at me.
She cupped my bare hips and leaned forward, her soft breasts pressing into my thighs.
I hunched up, my dick jerking wildly between my legs.
I thought of what it might feel like to thrust my prick between those soft, fat tits, to have her mouth at the head of my dick as I did—
My hips punched up again. “Goddamn, God—” She hadn’t even fucking touched my dick and I was spiralling.
She squeezed my hip with her left hand, then cupped my hot, straining flesh with her right, squeezing firmly, then tentatively stroking.