Dick Detailer Pt. 02

He was still leaning into the table, hanging onto the last words that poured from my mouth as I sat back feeling triumphant in my seat. The cockiness paradigm had shifted and I was wearing the crown now. I still had my leg stretched out under our table and my toes traced his dick. He was definitely growing firmer. Then suddenly he shifted so he rested his chin in his left hand and his right dropped to his lap. He grabbed my foot and kept it still over his dick, which continued to grow along the length of my foot. He wasn't hiding it. He was ready. My poetic appreciation for his dick had done the job.

"This is what you like about me, right?" He asked as his hold on my foot remained firm and he rubbed it along the length of his dick. "Do you want it?"

I tried curling my toes around it, signaling my yes.

"Where do you want it?" He aligned my foot with it. It almost reached my heel.

"Do you want to feel it, right here at the table Monet?" My toes flexed. "Do you want to feel its heat?" He was trying to turn the tables on me. "I think there might even be a bit of that pre-taste you mentioned." I sucked in my bottom lip, remembering the last time we were together and he had me stick out my tongue as he milked the last few drops.

I tried to pull my foot back, but his grip tightened. His head swiveled in slow motion from side to side. He was telling me no.

"I thought you liked it," he was using my foot to masturbate with. "It likes you Monet." My foot stroked up and down about three inches of his dick. "Look how it's coming out to greet you. It wants you to know that it's awake. You don't want it?"

My lips parted and I exhaled. The music became this dull hum in the background as he used my foot. My breast became fuller. My breathing slowed. I was concentrating; trying my hardest to focus on the dick that my foot was teasing. He tossed back the last of his drink, and signaled to our waiter who I assume was at a table nearby because my eyes never left David. His eyes dropped once again to the deep plunge of my outfit and watched as my chest rose and fell. My breast had shifted, and if I could focus on anything more than his dick I would of adjusted myself so that my right breast wasn't so close to having a nip slip.

The waiter set our bill on the table near David, and started to leave. But, David stopped him. The look on his face that he gave to me was "put on your shoe" as he released my foot. I immediately obliged. My foot searched the floor for my heel as he pulled out a few bills from his wallet and paid our tab. He let the waiter know that he did not need any change, and he departed thanking David for the tip.

"Ready?" He asked with a raised brow.

I nodded yes, and he rose. My eyes immediately went to his waist. He was still hard. He had adjusted himself as I had fumbled with my shoe, but I could still make out the outline of his dick amongst the dark indigo of his jeans. He stretched his hand out to me, and lifted me from my seat. Our skin touched and there was that familiar electricity. My second set of lips moistened.

I picked up my martini and took my final taste for the night. I grabbed my gold metallic clutch from the edge of our table and hand in hand we strode out of the lounge. I lived nearby, so we started on the walk back to my place in silence. My right hand in his left; our fingers entwined. We didn't run, but we walked with purpose. We reached the light, he pushed the button for the cross walk, and pulled me into him. My breast smashed up against his chest, our fingers stayed entwined and his free hand fell to my waist. His dick was now pressed against me. I wanted to wrap a leg around his waist and rub myself against him, but I restrained. He leaned in close to me, our heads tilted at opposite angles to where I could feel his breath on my lips. But, he pulled away as the crosswalk alerted us that it was safe to cross with its recorded message.

We crossed the street and continued north, away from the busy street into the tight two-lane street of my neighborhood. It was Los Angeles, so the houses were close to each other and there wasn't an inch of unclaimed curb. We continued our walk in silence, passing house one. Two. Three. Four and five before we turned and walked up the paved walkway to my door at house six. He released my hand, so that I could search for my keys. I left the porch light on, so I had a little bit of help. He however stood right behind me, his dick up against the curve of my butt.

He swiped my hair over my right shoulder and placed his first kiss on the left side of my neck. His hands simultaneously rested on both sides of my waist as he pulled me back tighter against his body. I couldn't help, but to tilt my head so that he had a better angle at my neck. His kiss turned into a suckle. "Lord please let me find this key," I thought silently to myself. He ground his hips against me. My nipples hardened. I rotated my hips. He planted another kiss, and I found my keys. His fingers dug into my polyester jumpsuit to my skin. I placed the key into the hole and turned. The door unlocked, I pushed it open. He blew cool air over the wet kisses he left along my neck, and we entered the house.

I switched on the entry way light as I set my few belongings: cell phone, clutch and keys on the near by table. He locked the door and we stood staring at each other. No words needed to be exchanged. I reached behind me and unzipped the back of my jumpsuit; the fabric loosening, my breast popping free. I shimmed the jumpsuit over my full hips, thick thighs and let it fall to my feet. I stepped out of it and kicked it to the side, so that I stood in front of him in my heels and thong. He had once told me that he loved a woman dressed simply in a pair of nice panties and heels.

He raised his hands to the top of his shirt and started on the buttons. I shook my head no. It was my turn to be in control. He stopped as I stepped to him. I unbuttoned his plaid shirt and brushed it off over his broad shoulders. He was taller than me, but with my heels on I was able to reach his shoulders. I lifted the hem of his white t-shirt up along his abs and he pulled it off over his head. He now stood in front of me, completely topless. I stepped into him, wrapping my arms around his neck, my nipples touching his chest tickled by the light smattering of his chest hair. His hands rested back on my hips, and we leaned in for our first kiss.

It started out slow, and I was in control. I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth. His lips parted and my tongue darted in. I tasted the remains of his martini. My tongue explored deeper into his mouth. Searching. Tasting. Treasuring. My breast were smashed up against his chest as I tightened my arms around his neck and tried to pull myself closer into him. His hands slid from my hips to my butt and he groaned. He palmed my ass, picking me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he walked us further into my home.

He was no stranger here. He knew where to go. Eyes closed, carrying my weight and fighting a battle with my tongue he found my bedroom all on his own. He laid me down horizontally across my massive king sized bed. We continued to kiss, as he leaned over me, one leg between the both of mine. As our mouths fought, my hands raced over the muscles in his back and one of his hands trailed up the side of my body to my breast. He palmed one of my D cup boobs in his massive hand. His fingers pulled at my nipple as he sucked on my top lip and I once again found his bottom. He twisted my nipple and I groaned. He pulled away immediately.

He leaned over to the nightstand and flicked on the lamp. My chest rose and fell as I tried to catch my breath. He looked upon me in carnal appreciation-I was basically naked except for the thong and heels. My eyes fluttered down to his dick. I could just make out its shape in the low lighting. I sat up, leaning back on my elbows and watched as he removed his remaining clothing. Shoes off. Socks gone. Jeans, and then his briefs. At last, he was naked and I was looking at it.

I couldn't take my eyes off of it. He circled his hand around it and stroked once. Twice. My thighs ground together on their own. He stroked it a few more times.

"So this is what you like?" I nodded my head yes. "Well you're going to have to wait," my eyes flew up to his. He grabbed me by my ankles and pulled me down so that my ass was on the edge of the bed. My thong was yanked down and off in seconds. He spread my legs and held them out in place.

"This is what I like," and he laid the first of many licks. He flicked at my clit, dipped his tongue into my heaven and held my shaking thighs. My arms gave way at some point and my hands found their way into his hair. My hips swayed to the masterful assault of his tongue. He bent my knees and placed my feet on the edge of the bed so that they were butterflied out to the sides. His tongue flicked mercilessly across my clit. I cried out. He rubbed a finger between my wet folds, lubricating it. He slowly opened me with that finger, easing it in one knuckle at a time. He worked that finger until he felt my walls give way, and then there was the push of a second. He doubled the speed of his tongue.

Fuck, could it go any faster I thought. The increased pace, did what he knew it would. It allowed my body to forget about the second finger so that he was able to get it in, two knuckles deep. He pumped his fingers in and out slowly, trying to loosen me. They twisted and rotated, until they were both completely inside. He held them still and sucked my clit between his lips. It felt like ten seconds, but I know it was closer to thirty before he resumed. His fingers slid in and out slowly, their speed increasing ever so slightly until they were plunging into me and I was humping against him. My hands were in his hair again, but I had fistfuls in each hand. His head lay on my right thigh as his tongue toyed with my clit. He made sucking sounds, and possibly even groans as he feasted upon me. I know it wasn't me, because I whimpered as he finally worked the third and final finger inside me. I tried to claw away from him. He was used to this. He knew that when I was close, I tried to fight my orgasm. I never truly wanted to deny myself, but it was something I did every time. He pushed my right thigh up and out of the way with his shoulder; he was in danger of his head being encased between my thighs. His left hand found my right, which was now grasping a fistful of the sheet. He held my hand, our fingers laced together. My hand squeezed his, he pumped his fingers and I cried out, "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God" over and over as my back rose and my hips dipped into the bed.

His fingers slowed and came to a complete stop as my orgasm subsided. He rotated his hand one final time so his palm was facing upward before he withdrew them and he planted a kiss to my inner right thigh. Our fingers were still laced in his other hand and so I tugged on it, signaling that I needed him to come up. He stood and sucked the wet from his fingers; I too maintained a healthy diet. He had once told me in a post sex confession that he loved going down on me because he liked how my body responded to him. I glanced down to his waist and stared at my favorite piece of him. His hand returned and circled around his dick. He squeezed it one time and then stroked it a few times. I looked up to his face from hooded eyes; his brow raised, he was asking me what my next move was.

I slid from the bed, placing my heels on the floor and squatted with my legs spread and my back against the bed for support. He stepped forward, his dick leading. If I were any lesser of a woman I would be fearful as the head looked angry. Eating me had turned him on in an insane way. He didn't like me to use my hands when I sucked him. I placed my palms on his muscled thighs and leaned forward. I liked to be aggressive when I sucked dick. I flicked my tongue out and licked the glistening tip. He sighed, and I plunged taking him as far as I could into my mouth. He groaned, and breathed a few expletives. I love the sense of power I always gain when I do this to him. I drew back slowly, hallowing my cheeks. When I got to the head, I swirled my tongue around it and plunged back down his shaft. I repeated this two or three more times. Each time I flew down his shaft, I heard him groan. My mouth adjusted to his size each time and my throat began to relax.

My grip on his thighs tightened as I tried to pull him further into my mouth. But, it was this angle. If I wanted him in my throat, he had to feed it to me. That slight curve of his dick was what hindered me in this position. I sucked him as deep into my mouth as I could and wiggled my tongue along its underside. I breathed through my nose and stretched my tongue out my mouth from beneath his dick and tried to reach and lick any untouched flesh that I could. I felt the pressure of his hands on my head, in my hair. I looked up, trying to make eye contact with him. He was staring down at me. I shifted so I was leaning more into the side of the bed, causing him to step with me. He leaned over me, changing the angle. Balancing himself with his right hand on the bed and palming the back of my head with his left.

I had just started on him and he was already trying to take over. But, honestly I didn't mind because that's when you know you're running shit. When he turns into an animal and can't focus on anything, but chasing his nut, is when I win. He pulled back, so that I could breathe and then he surged forward again. I locked my fingers together behind my back and let the side of the bed be my support. He set the pace, and each time that he stroked into my mouth I hallowed my cheeks and sucked. On his out stroke, my tongue danced. But, I knew this angle wasn't what he needed. He stroked over and over and you could hear the copious sounds of our union.

Needing more, I pushed at his thighs. He pulled back immediately, withdrawing until just the first two inches remained in my mouth as he stood and looked down at me. I eased him out of my mouth entirely, tilted my head and sucked along that ridge of flesh just below the head. He groaned my name, and a few other words. Something that sounded like, "Why are you so good at this". He pulled away from my mouth; that part was the most sensitive. I stretched out my hands and he pulled me up to standing. I turned, crawled onto the bed. He smacked my ass; oh he was being playful now. I got into position; lying on my back with my head over the edge of the bed. He stepped back into position, and slid back into my mouth with no pausing.

This was way better. He pulled back, stroked back in once, twice. On his third downward stroke, my hands went to his firm ass and pushed him onward. He entered my throat. He held himself there for seconds before pulling back. He surged forward again, sliding into my throat. I hummed, and he groaned. This continued, stroke after downward stroke. He plunged back in too soon a few times. When I wasn't prepared and I gagged, my throat constricting around his dick. He lost it then, that tight pressure around his dick. He withdrew completely and I looked up at him confused.

"I don't want to cum in your mouth," he answered. "Come on, sit up and turn around." I obliged, without hesitation. I stood in front of him, my back to his front. I was still wearing my heels, which helped because he was tall and we were now aligned. I placed my knees on the bed and he bent me over slightly, resting a hand on my hip. His other hand guided his dick into me. I was wet, but still tight. The earlier orgasm he brought me to with his three fingers still did not compare to his dick. He knew better than to plunge in here. So he took his time. Pushing in and starting with slow strokes. I eventually opened up to him fully, and he exhaled a deep gush of air.

"Harder," I stated as I lowered my chest to the bed and bowed my head. Both his hands were at my hips, his thumbs fitting perfectly into the dimples on my lower back above my ass. His paced quickened. My eyes closed as I focused on the feel of his dick moving in me, and his balls slapping against my clit with each down stroke. My ass bounced against his pelvic bone and lower abs. The room filled with the sounds of skin smacking against each other. His pace quickened. Deepened. His grip shifted up to my waist, and on every down stroke he pulled me back onto him. He had turned into an animal. I widened my legs, which caused my waist to sink lower onto the bed and when he pulled me in for that next stroke my body shattered. He had hit the golden spot. I was floating. I cried out, thanking him over and over. But, he didn't stop and because he kept on stroking. My body continued to soar. I clawed at the sheets, until he finally ran a hand up through my hair grabbing a fistful. Pulling my head up and back to him as his body stilled, spilling into me.

Carefully he released my hair, and withdrew himself. He turned and fell backwards on the bed next to me. He reached for me, dragging my body onto the bed next to his. I kicked off my heels and together we lied there in my bed on our backs, next to each other, not touching, staring at the ceiling. We were silent as our labored breathes slowed, returning to their normal runs. I reached out my left hand and his right hand found mine, our fingers interlocking. I'm not into cuddling, but he likes some form of connection. So long ago, when we started fucking this is what we agreed to. After all, we're friends and he's only here because I like his dick.