When things got a little too much for her, he softened his approach, dwelled on languorous licks of the tongue over her soft folds. He teased her with her panties, pulling them tight so the sodden cotton sank into her slit, and gently sawing against her pussy lips as he licked her, adding a different texture to his treatment of her.
She was so wet, so sticky, so hot. How could any heterosexual guy offered the chance to worship the sensational beauty of the female sex turn it down?
Why did girls, who were perfectly willing to stretch their lips around a swollen male member and sop up any semen oozing out, imagine that guys would somehow shrink from the heavenly experience that lay between female thighs?
So many mysteries, and mistaken assumptions.
*
Dylan had no idea how long he was given between Noelle’s shapely thighs, though a few times he glimpsed her peeking, lifting up the edge of the sleeping bag to check in on him – and each time he did his best to show that he was loving every minute of this, to persuade her to continue, not to call a halt on his account.
Having removed her panties, leaving her a little more easy to access, he got into a rhythm where he could spare a hand to spread over her smooth belly, and then reach up to cup her breasts and pinch her stiff nipples, but then as he came to focus a little more on her clit, licking her around it, pressing his hot mouth down, sucking as much as she could stand – she started to take charge again.
Her hands moved over his head, her fingers initially stroking him, coursing through his hair to encourage him, to guide him to follow the pace she needed, match her own innate rhythm.
And then she was holding him, pulling him in, crushing his face against her smoldering, soaking sex as her hips writhed underneath him, and it got so that she was furiously fucking his face, and he was almost a bystander.
It wasn’t much longer before she was furiously humping his face, and then shuddering and bolting and bucking all around him, her wetness suddenly everywhere – hot and sticky and salty and tangy, and so very sexy, so very her.
Eventually, as he moved up beside her, having cleaned her up with his tongue as best as he was able, she was still out of breath, though eager to kiss him, to find a silent way to express her wonder and gratitude and joy at the experience he’d just given her.
“Who are you?” she whispered when she finally allowed him to breathe. “Are you real?”
He whispered: “I’m real, I promise.”
He lay behind her, spooned against her back now as she moved down further inside the sleeping bag so that it covered her shoulders. His head tucked over her shoulder so he could kiss her cheek. He could still smell the scent of her sex along with her sweet perfume, and it thrilled him.
Noelle felt his hardness throb, and now pushed her behind back against him, wanting more, wiggling her hips a little so she could feel it against her, check out his shape.
“You should take off your pants,” she whispered in the darkness.