I’ve heard the expression “it was so good, I thought I’d die” many times in my life – usually over a piece of cheesecake or a great massage at the spa – but this was the first time I really understood it. 

Will’s tongue on me was magic: I couldn’t think of anything else other than the way his tongue tickled along my pussy lips, lightly dipped in, lapped at me. Then suddenly his mouth — ravenous — covered me while he tongued me in a steady rhythm. I bucked and moaned and came so many times I thought I just might, actually, die. 

“Will … oh my god … I need to … I have to … let me catch my breath,” I said. 

I could practically feel him smiling between my legs, then the sound of a chuckle — he was pleased with himself.

“All right, if you insist. But then I want more of you. Deal?” 

I panted, gasping. “Fine. Deal.” 

He pushed himself up to lay alongside me, head leaning on his hand. It was dark out here but the ambient light from the resort – and the moon – was enough to light his face. He was fully dressed, shirt still buttoned up. And there I was with my skirt bunched around my waist, no panties, and legs open. 

In a sudden rush, I closed my thighs. 

He put his hand on top of one, then let it slide between, and pulled gently. 

“Open,” he said. “Please.” 

I did, slowly. It made me feel shy and embarrassed to be exposed like this, while he looked at me. 

It was like had read my mind. “I love looking at you, you know,” he said.

Somehow his enjoyment overwhelmed my shyness, and I felt a surge of warmth and arousal. It made me brave, and I let my legs fall open a little further. 

“Yes, perfect, exactly like that Kat,” he said. 

I watched him watch me, as his fingers trailed up and down along my pussy. He let a finger slide inside me again – deliberate, careful, agonizingly slow – and then out again, putting his finger to my mouth. 

“Open,” he said now. “Please.” 

I did. 

He dragged his finger over my lip and onto my tongue. The taste of me was on him and I closed my mouth around his finger, sucking. 

He closed his eyes, and his breath went out of him, fast. 

“Jesus Christ, Kat,” he said. “You have the best mouth.” 

I opened my lips and let him pull his finger out, but braver now, I reached down and felt his cock through his shorts. Hard as a rock. He hissed as soon as my fingers found him through the cloth. 

“I think my mouth needs something bigger than a finger,” I said quietly. 

He cursed under his breath and brought himself up to kneeling, unzipping his shorts as he went, pulling himself out through the opening. 

I’m not sure I’d ever really thought of a penis as gorgeous, but his was, in every way. I started to move sideways, to reach for him, but he put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Just stay.”

So I did. I laid there — on my back, skirt up and legs still open — and waited, my eyes pinned on his. He grinned at me in the dark, then moved himself adjacent to my head, and brushed his cock over my chin and nudged against my lips. 

I lifted my head slightly to try to bring him into my mouth, but he said, “No, stay there.” I let my head fall back again, and waited. He started again, rubbing the tip of his cock over my chin, cheeks, lips. 

“Your skin is so soft, Kat,” he whispered. “This feels so fucking good.” 

It was a revelation to me that just touching his cock to my cheek might make him sway and close his eyes as he was. So many of my sexual experiences had been much more … goal oriented. This was like a nine-course meal, spread over several hours, each part of the banquet to be enjoyed and feasted upon, one savoring bite at a time. 

I let my mouth fall open, and licked my lips. Ready for the next course. When his cock next ran over my mouth, it was slick and moist, rubbing easily, wet and warm. He groaned at the feeling of it all, and I let my tongue dart out against him, wetting him even more. 

“Kat, fuck, jesus,” he breathed out. 

He adjusted himself, edging up tight to my side. One of his hands on his cock guided it over my face, and his other hand moved down between my legs, his finger finding my clit and rubbing slowly. 

I gasped and my mouth opened wider. When it did, he pushed his hips forward gently and his cock head slipped into my mouth. I closed my mouth around him, the taste and feel of him overwhelming as he pushed in tiny thrusts that matched the small movements of his hand between my legs. 

“Kat, I want you to cum again,” he said. 

The words alone almost did it. I felt my hips move on their own and I moaned in my throat, my tongue picking up pace on the underside of his cock. He groaned in return and the palm of his hand came down over the top of my clit, cupping, rubbing, against me. 

I could feel I was close. He must have known it too, because he took his hand from his cock and brought it to one of my breasts, and pinched my nipple. 

I would have yelled “fuck” but my mouth was full … Instead, I moaned hard and panted around his cock, while he rubbed my clit harder and pinched again. 

My body lifted off the ground, my hips rising up to push against him, and I came hard.  A shiver ran over my body, muscles shaking, tummy quivering. When it subsided, I looked up at him and realized he was watching me again, enraptured. 

“You’re so fucking hot, Kat. Fuck, I want you so bad,” he said. 

He kept pumping his hips, sliding his cock in and out of my mouth, deeper, and deeper, and deeper. 

“I’m going to cum, Kat. I’m going to … I need to … can I … jesus … I …” 

He was slowing, hesitating, looking down at me, and I felt confused for a second before I realized what he was trying to say: he was going to cum, and if he did, it would be in my mouth or on my face. He was making sure it was ok, to cum on me. 

I reached up and put one hand on the curve of his bum, and pulled him toward me. The invitation clear: don’t stop. 

He didn’t. Instead, his pace picked up again as he pumped into my mouth. Watching him in the shadows, laying here while he kneeled over me, his face a mask of pleasure, was incredible. I wanted to do this all night long. 

I laid my other hand over his — the one that was still on my breast — and squeezed: another invitation. Grab me. Touch me. Squeeze me. Pinch me.

He opened his eyes, looked down at me, cupped my breast hard and squeezed. 

“Kat, I’m …” 

I pressed my tongue flat and firm to the underside of his cock as it slid in and out of my mouth, and he bucked his hips, sliding deeper, and I tasted his cum at the back of my throat. He pulled out, and let the rest drip over my lips and chin, then leaned over and kissed me. 

“You’re incredible.” He was panting, hard. 

I’d never been one for seeking praise but damn if his didn’t make me feel like a million bucks. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I said, licking up the rest of what he’d left on my mouth. 

“Want to go have a drink? Then fuck like rabbits again after?” 

I laughed. 

“Sure. Sounds good. I could do without the drink but the rabbits part sounds like a good plan,” I grinned at him. 

“Technically I could do without the drink too but we’re going to get dehydrated at this pace. The rabbits a solemn promise, my girl.” 

The term made me pause. 

He didn’t skip a beat and smiled at me again. 

“Come on, drinks, on me.” 

“It’s an all-inclusive resort. It’s all free!” 

“Yeah, I know, isn’t it great? I meant I will order the drink for you.” 

“Oh, I see. Of course, yes, makes sense.” 

“I do like to be in charge sometimes.” 

“Whatever you say, sir.” 

His eyes flickered, half amused, half aroused. 

“If you say that in bed, you might find yourself in a lot of trouble.” 

“Sexy trouble?”

“Very sexy trouble.” 

“I’ll keep it in mind then … Sir.” 

He laughed. 

“You’re awesome. Come on, everyone will be wondering where we are anyway.” 

He took my hand and led me back to the club, the taste of him still all over my mouth.