Cunnilingus date

We have the cunnilingus date that didn’t happen last night. I’m looking forward to it. Light the candles, shave for the second night in a row, put on our favorite music to fuck to, pull the bedroom shades to make a comfort zone for River, bring in a washcloth to keep her from getting too wet down there. One of the reasons she’s given for not liking cunnilingus so much.

I butter River up. Literally. A quick body butter slather. I’m impatient to dive her muff. She says she’ll be on board. Sometimes she is, sometimes she isn’t. Only one way to find out.

“Hi girlfriend.” Put my pillow on the floor beside the bed to kneel on. Pull River over to the edge. There’s a radiator right behind me. Not much room for my feet. But maybe River can rest her feet on it. She tries it, then puts them on my shoulders.

There’s her pussy. Her lips. Luscious. Dark. Thick. I part them with my tongue. Circle her opening. Find her tangy taste. Find her clit. My tongue rubs her hood over it. “That’s the right spot.” I love having my face in her pussy. My finger inside for her g-spot. My other hand pulling us together. But I’m not getting any more feedback, other than an occasional moan or shift in position. Or flinch when I hit something too sensitive. I can’t see her face when I gaze up her body. I stop a few times to use the washcloth on her. “You’re getting me warmed up.” I’ve lost track of time. “That’s probably about all you can stand.”

Before I finish I move back to her pussy opening. Lapping up her tangy taste. Putting my mouth on her and pushing my tongue in as far as I can. Fucking her with it, pulling back then pushing it into her. And feeling myself get hard. And harder. It usually takes some manual stimulation lately, but tonight I'm hard for her taste. And the tongue-fuck. It feels nice getting hard for that.

When I stand up she’s surprised. “Your taste got me hard.” “That’s amazing.” I slip right into her with no hands and we fuck. There’s something about being barely on the edge of the bed. Focused. Clinging to River for stability. Just enough room to fuck. Then I realize I can put my feet on the radiator. And it’s even better. My erection is strong. Her pussy is full of my spit. We fuck hard. Desperately. Pulling down on her shoulder like I’m trying to break her.

“Poor clitoris. Not getting any more attention.” “Clitoris is ok.”

I sit up. River arches onto me and fucks me from the bottom. It feels impossibly nice being fucked like this. “I could just let you make me come.” “Ok.” River fucks me harder. I’m not even moving. Just letting her push her pussy onto me. Fuck me with her cunt. This won’t take long. The build-up is just right. Not too fast. Not too slow. The warm prickly feeling intensifies. Spreads its tendrils. I feel brittle. Solid. Ticklish. Candy-coated. I don’t move. Just watch River pump onto me, feel the sensations twine through me, down my legs, across my abdomen, into my arms, I’m about to scream and suddenly I’m coming, and I am screaming, the threads thickening and searing through my body like a slow electric shock, then being pulled out, I can’t hold myself up, I fall onto River, helpless, everything comes together and annihilates, there’s nothing left but us, our bodies, my cock, her pussy. Our fuck.

When I recover we keep going. The afterfuck. It’s still good. I’m still hard. She’s even wetter. She squeezes but I’m too hard for her to squirt out. Too bad. I never want to stop.

“I wonder how many other people have used that radiator?” “Probably none.” Our house is 99 years old. Surely in 99 years that radiator has been part of somebody’s escapade. But it’s not like it says “Reed was here” on it. Maybe I should start writing that in various places. I can just see it. “Everywhere I go in this house it says ’Reed was here.’ And River was always with him.”