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Authors: Jess Michaels
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have you invited a few surprises for me?”
Since we began this gathering three years ago, Christopher has always included at least one guest that is an utter surprise to me. A guest that desires something I have never given before. Or one that he knows will pleasure me. He tells me it is his gift to me. And I invariably anticipate that gift with the patience of a child on her birthday morn. This year is no different.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans as I dart my tongue out to taste the swollen head of his cock. The salty tang of his pre-cum makes my clit tingle with expectation and I know he is aching to feel my throat constrict around his girth. But I won’t give him that. Not yet.
“Christopher,” I press, looking up at him through a hooded gaze. “Did you prepare any surprises for me?”
“Yes Minx,” he growls as he threads his fingers into my hair. Pins clatter to the floor below, but I don’t care about their loss. I shove a few black curls away from my eyes with my free hand as he guides my mouth toward him. “There will be many wonderful surprises for you. But do not think you will tempt them from me with that wicked mouth of yours. Now suck me.”
I smile as I wrap my lips around his cock, feeling his hardness stretch my lips. Christopher has never been selfish about letting me have my pleasure. I have had the cocks of many men inside me, filling me. I have found pleasure in every encounter I have shared. But no man’s cock is like my husband’s. No man’s cock makes me come with just the thought of it filling me. Only his.
He pushes himself in deep until the head of him taps my throat. Until my lips are tickled by the crisp curls of hair at his base. Leisurely, I guide my tongue around the girth of him, rubbing the throbbing blue vein that is bulging on the underside of his delicious erection. His fingers clench and his head dips back against his shoulders as he grinds out my name between clenched teeth.
“Great God, Eve!”
I withdraw as slowly as he entered me, sucking him as inch after inch leaves my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the mushroom head of his cock and more of his pre-cum leaks against my tongue, a telling sign of how much he wants to come. How much pleasure I am giving him with these torturous movements.
The taste of him, the heady musk of his desire, the feel of him filling my mouth arouses me already, but as I take him in deep again, one hand moves away from my hair and glides down the apex of my body. With a flick of his wrist, he opens the buttons that run along the low neckline of my silken pink morning gown. His fingers delve past the gaping fabric and he finds a swollen nipple. His rough fingertips swirl over the sensitive flesh, plucking, stroking until a steady throb of thick, wet need courses between my thighs. I press them together, magnifying the ache as my mouth moves in earnest over his cock, taking him all the way in, withdrawing nearly his entire length.
His breath is coming in shallow bursts, but he continues to torment me. Skillful, he manages to wrest the gown away from my shoulders and shove it away. I wear no chemise beneath the gown, so I am nude from the waist up. His eyes speak volumes about his support of my lack of undergarments, as does the way his already steely erection seems to grow and harden in my mouth. He continues his torment of my breasts, moving from one to the other. And by the way his dark, emerald stare holds mine, I know he is fully aware of what these touches are doing to me. The way the shock of pleasure when he tugs at my nipple goes all the way to my clit.
I moan against his cock and the vibration makes him curse again.
“Fuck Eve, oh fuck.”
But he takes my brazen hint and lets his hand dip lower, twisting slightly to reach my thighs. My skirt is still pushed around my hips, so he has easy access to my aching core. He smiles as his fingers find the slick heat that is already rolling down my inner thighs.
“My naughty girl,” he
Since we began this gathering three years ago, Christopher has always included at least one guest that is an utter surprise to me. A guest that desires something I have never given before. Or one that he knows will pleasure me. He tells me it is his gift to me. And I invariably anticipate that gift with the patience of a child on her birthday morn. This year is no different.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans as I dart my tongue out to taste the swollen head of his cock. The salty tang of his pre-cum makes my clit tingle with expectation and I know he is aching to feel my throat constrict around his girth. But I won’t give him that. Not yet.
“Christopher,” I press, looking up at him through a hooded gaze. “Did you prepare any surprises for me?”
“Yes Minx,” he growls as he threads his fingers into my hair. Pins clatter to the floor below, but I don’t care about their loss. I shove a few black curls away from my eyes with my free hand as he guides my mouth toward him. “There will be many wonderful surprises for you. But do not think you will tempt them from me with that wicked mouth of yours. Now suck me.”
I smile as I wrap my lips around his cock, feeling his hardness stretch my lips. Christopher has never been selfish about letting me have my pleasure. I have had the cocks of many men inside me, filling me. I have found pleasure in every encounter I have shared. But no man’s cock is like my husband’s. No man’s cock makes me come with just the thought of it filling me. Only his.
He pushes himself in deep until the head of him taps my throat. Until my lips are tickled by the crisp curls of hair at his base. Leisurely, I guide my tongue around the girth of him, rubbing the throbbing blue vein that is bulging on the underside of his delicious erection. His fingers clench and his head dips back against his shoulders as he grinds out my name between clenched teeth.
“Great God, Eve!”
I withdraw as slowly as he entered me, sucking him as inch after inch leaves my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the mushroom head of his cock and more of his pre-cum leaks against my tongue, a telling sign of how much he wants to come. How much pleasure I am giving him with these torturous movements.
The taste of him, the heady musk of his desire, the feel of him filling my mouth arouses me already, but as I take him in deep again, one hand moves away from my hair and glides down the apex of my body. With a flick of his wrist, he opens the buttons that run along the low neckline of my silken pink morning gown. His fingers delve past the gaping fabric and he finds a swollen nipple. His rough fingertips swirl over the sensitive flesh, plucking, stroking until a steady throb of thick, wet need courses between my thighs. I press them together, magnifying the ache as my mouth moves in earnest over his cock, taking him all the way in, withdrawing nearly his entire length.
His breath is coming in shallow bursts, but he continues to torment me. Skillful, he manages to wrest the gown away from my shoulders and shove it away. I wear no chemise beneath the gown, so I am nude from the waist up. His eyes speak volumes about his support of my lack of undergarments, as does the way his already steely erection seems to grow and harden in my mouth. He continues his torment of my breasts, moving from one to the other. And by the way his dark, emerald stare holds mine, I know he is fully aware of what these touches are doing to me. The way the shock of pleasure when he tugs at my nipple goes all the way to my clit.
I moan against his cock and the vibration makes him curse again.
“Fuck Eve, oh fuck.”
But he takes my brazen hint and lets his hand dip lower, twisting slightly to reach my thighs. My skirt is still pushed around my hips, so he has easy access to my aching core. He smiles as his fingers find the slick heat that is already rolling down my inner thighs.
“My naughty girl,” he
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