I am laying in bed with K, at his house, snug against his side and so very aware of all the places our skin meets. I run my fingers through his hair, pet his chest and belly, stroke his arms and legs.
I can’t get enough of the warmth of his skin. Of his curly, springy hair. I want to kiss and lick every part of him, and I store that desire away for another night, a night when I can just lavish attention on him physically.
Tonight I want his cock in my mouth.
It’s been an unusual few weeks for us. Weekends that we’d usually have staying over at mine, reveling in us-time to explore and play and experiment, have been not-a-thing: we’ve had to stay over at his, where play is relegated to the most quiet of interactions. Sometimes we just crawl into bed and snuggle.
Which is all good. I love snuggling on him. Sleeping with him, when that’s all we’re going to do.
Tonight I want him. In my mouth.
He’s talking. I’m trying to be listening. (I’m not.)
He slants a look down at me.
I look up at him. Sigh. “Please,” I say, a whisper. That’s all I need to say. I know he wants my mouth on him as much as I want him in my mouth. He nods and I slide down his belly. Between his legs. Gather his cock into my mouth.
I could reminisce so much about how that feels, and tastes, and smells. How turned on it makes me to feel him in my mouth. I could reminisce about that, well, a lot. And, okay, I do. I’m not going to lie.
But there is another sense that arouses me at least as much: sound. The sound of my lover’s orgasms. Or not just his orgasm, because that, ultimately, is such a small part of the experience. It’s all of the little sounds that lead up to it: the sighs and the caught breaths, the bitten-back gasps as I swallow all of him into my mouth, take him into that soft place in the back of my throat. Here, at his house, where we have to be quiet, I have to be very attentive to hear him, but he isn’t entirely silent. If I am paying close enough attention I can even hear him swallow as the tension builds, as his cock begins to swell in my mouth, as he rises up into his orgasm, pulling, or being pulled, toward the completion we both want.
And then his hands are in my hair, on my head, and he is pushing me down, holding me down, pushing his cock deep into my throat, and I absolutely fucking Iove it when he can’t hold it all back, and a long, low growl escapes him. That sound turns me on so much I squirm against him, panting and gagging (very, very quietly) as he shoots his semen down my throat. I love it that I do this for him, that those sounds he can’t hold back, are mine – I made them happen. I gave him this pleasure, this pleasure that sounds a bit like torture, and feels a little bit like it, too: the sweet agony of an orgasm. His orgasm, but mine too.
Oh yeah, I am a HUGE fan of other people’s orgasms.
This post was written for the Kink of the Week topic “Other People’s Orgasms.” Click the link below to read other posts on the subject!
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