Night of a Thousand Licks

That cracked a grin out of him. He lowered his head towards her pubes once more, then paused. “Shut up, or lick up, is that it?”

“Drop and give me twenty. Orgasms, that is,” Linda challenged him. “*If* you think your jaw can last.”

“I’ll last longer than you will,” he shot back, and lowered his mouth to prove it.

Within seconds, Linda had to drop her head back onto the mattress. Without any hesitation, his tongue found her clit and began flicking it fast and furious, dancing in circles over the hooded little sentry guarding her sexual pleasure. Within a minute, she was biting her lip to hold back her moans as his semi-gentle efforts fondled her nerves. He flicked, he licked, he swirled and tapped. The soft-hard point of his attack changed now and then to a broad-tongued lap, then resumed the flicker-fast pace of arousing her desires.

Her eyes drifted shut in the effort to absorb what he was doing to her nether parts. Her arms twitched now and then, rattlig the chains on the handcuffs holding her in place. Within a short time, a minor orgasm trembled through her muscles, escaping in tight-panted little cries. Again, he switched to a broad tonguing, soothing her for a few moments, then dove in hard and fast, flicking firmly at her clitoris. She jerked and gasped as her minor climax jumped instantly to a larger one, primed like a pump by the first results of his efforts.

His teeth nipped at her soft flesh as she bucked and tried to close her legs, then he suckled on her flesh, making her gasp and cry out, bucking again. Wedging his shoulders firmly between her legs, he pinned her down with one arm stretched over the top of her right thigh, and the other curving under her left. His tongue invaded the folds and crevasses of her femininity, lapping at the peaks and stabbing at the valleys with nonstop determination.

A third wave, as large as the second one, swept through Linda’s body. Moaning, she tipped her head back, eyes shut as another climax tore through her body. She hadn’t expected herself to respond so quickly or so thoroughly to his efforts, but here she was, orgasming yet again in shudders that raced out from her stomach, into her limbs. The handcuffs clattered against the metal headboard as she shifted her weight.

His hand shifted as well, pinning down her hip. The moment it contacted the joint of hip and thigh, she shivered and jerked uncontrollably; that area had always been her most sensitive spot. Experimentally, his fingers brushed it again, and again she gasped and jerked. A sound of pleasure escaped his mouth, vibrating against her flesh, then he dug in hard and fast, conquering her cunt, impaling her with his tongue between fast lashes at her clit.

If the first one had been a minor orgasm, and the other two medium-sized, this one was a major orgasm. Gritting her teeth, head jerking from side to side, Linda tried to hump his face. This was the biggest orgasm she’d ever had, which made it a close second to the biggest one of her life, right behind that time with the vibrator and the shower massager. Somehow, he managed to stay with her, following her sporadic spasms as she cried out. Milking her with his tongue, he softened his attack, switching to those soothing, flat strokes, save that now they weren’t soothing. In fact, they were arousing simply because they were travelling over thoroughly aroused flesh. Moaning, she tried to catch her breath. Mini-orgasms shuddered through her body in aftershocks, some larger, some smaller, as he kept at his task.

Finally, he lifted his mouth from her cunt. Linda knew this only because the sweet torment stopped; her eyes were still tightly shut. She found out why quickly enough.

“That’s one,” he informed her smugly. “If you ever want me to stop, just call out ‘Hold!’”

And without further ado, dipped his head back down between her thighs for round two.

****************

“…Oh, god! Oh, god! Oh, god! Oh, god!…”

And she’d thought that first major orgasm was a mind-blowing one. If she’d had a braincell left to spare, one not writhing in neural overload from sexual ecstasy, Linda would have admitted she’d lost count back at nine or ten, maybe twelve major orgasms. There was no way to count all the little ones, the mini-climaxes and medium-sized orgasms that were the pump-primers for these world-shaking ones. All she knew was that this one was the first break the maniac between her thighs had taken from mouth-only action. Finally inserting a finger into her vagina, he had finger-fucked her while he licked and sucked, producing this mind-blowing pleasure.

Her vocabulary was reduced to two words, and two words only: “oh” and “god”. Nothing else was needed. Nothing else could escape her throat, and had escaped her throat for at least three orgasms, now. Or so she thought. Without warning, he abandoned her cunt with his lips and, without warning or any sign of fair play, buried them in the crease between her belly and her thigh. The very, very sensitive crease, between stomach and thigh.

“—ZANE!!”

Shrieking his name, Linda tried to curl protectively around the licking and suckling that was killing her with overstimulated nerves. He took mercy on her, but only by travelling up to her belly button and stabbing it with his tongue, thrusting into her stomach the way his fingers—two of them, now—were thrusting into her cunt. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, and if she could, she’d have sworn she was on the edge of an aneurysm, a heart attack, a stroke, a whatever would kill her quickly and cleanly and end this torment which she at the same time didn’t want ever to end.

“—Oh, God! OhGodOhGodOhGod*Oh*God*!—”

Abandoning her belly and its saliva-drenched navel, he slid back between her thighs, jerking his fingers free and sucking directly on the juices flowing out of her cunt. His hands, one damp and one dry, splayed on the undersides of her thighs, pushing them up and doubling them back against her stomach. The sudden change in position intensified everything by tenfold, something which Linda hadn’t believed was possible. Choking in mid-mindless plea, she lost all coherence, shaking and shivering, twitching and thrashing, jerking so hard on the handcuffs binding her in place, only the pain of the metal cuffs biting into her wrists kept her sane. Barely.

Tears seeped out of her eyes, matching the sobs that escaped her chest. Tortured beyond belief, Linda could only whimper and cry, twitching her head from side to side in a denial, not of what he was doing to her, nor how far he had pushed her, but of the insanity of not caring if he gave her even more, of not caring if receiving yet more pleasure actually did kill her. She was exhausted. Spent. Wiped. Unable to respond a single iota more.

Luckily for her, Zane reduced his attack to a slow, tired lick, lapping up the mingled juices of his saliva and her orgasms as he allowed her spent thighs to collapse to either side. After half a minute, even those little licks stopped. Only the panting of his own labored breath touched her thoroughly drenched curls. Linda just lay there, uncaring how exposed she was, naked breaths heaving with each struggled breath, her cunt enflamed from raw, oral passion, her thighs splayed haphazardly to either side, unable to move even enough to just quiver anymore.

Minutes passed. She was almost asleep when she felt Zane move, shifting out from between her legs and crawling up the length of her side. He shed his trousers and his briefs, the latter of which were clearly creamed, then collapsed beside her. Tucking an arm under his head, he studied her as she pried open her eyes and tipped her head toward him.

“...Alright,” he finally panted, “I’ll admit this one’s a draw; I ran out of steam at about the same time as you did. But tomorrow morning, we’re shaving your pussy, and seeing if it really has been licked raw.”

Gaping at him, Linda tried to find her voice as he snuggled up next to her, laid his passion-damp face on the pillow next to hers, and shut his eyes, clearly intending to go to sleep. “—You can’t be serious!”

He pried open one eye, then arched his brow in silent inquiry.

“You can’t stay here, Zane! I—you—”

His hand snaked over the crease of her hip, making her shiver and buck in remembered pleasure—and she had foolishly thought there was no more energy left in her for desire. “I’m tired of listening to your protests. I’ve decided to make you my personal dessert, Lin-babe. Any time I want a lot of hair-pie, you’re going to learn to spread ‘em for me. And to call me 'Master', and to do whatever else I want with your delectable, sexy body.”

She glared at him, or at least tried to as much as her waning energy would allow. “And what says I’ll let you?”

All he did was lick his lips. Slowly, savoring every last fragrant speck still within reach on his face. Shuddering, Linda subsided, remembering, anticipating, and dreading their next encounter. But only partially dreading it.

“...You’re insane, you know that?”

“You didn’t cry ‘Hold!’,” he reminded her, smirking sleepily at her. “Not once, for…” a glance at her bedside clock, and he continued, “…Not for nearly three whole hours. Non-stop pleasure, for as long as you could take it. If I’m insane, what does that make you, baby?”

She shuddered at the thought. So much for sexual exhaustion—the memories alone were reviving her flagging energy. A glance at the clock proved the truth. There was no use denying it. “…Your sex slave?”

“Damn straight, babe.” Crawling off the bed, he staggered over to the dresser, found the handcuff keys, and came back to free her. Linda didn’t bother to flee. Not only was this her condo, leaving her with nowhere else to go…she didn’t want to go. Didn’t want him to go.

Rubbing her wrists, she stared at the ceiling as she stayed on her back. “Alright. You can lick me anytime you like. But tomorrow night, *you’re* wearing the handcuffs.”

“Are you trying to take control of our relationship?” Zane challenged her, trailing his fingertips over the exhausted curve of her belly.

“Yeah. You wanna make something of it?”

“Remind me to fuck you senseless in the morning,” he muttered.

Linda laughed. “Shouldn’t that be, shut me up with a nice, hard, juicy cock? And why wait ‘til morning?”

“Honey, I came three times tonight, just from trying to suck you dry. I’m wiped.”

“Poor baby; now who’s the one who can’t make it past three times a night?” she mocked him as he turned them on their sides, spooning in close behind her.

“Are you slurring my manhood?”

“Damn straight,” she agreed, snuggling back into him. What a waste of all this time, thinking he’d never be this interested in her.

“Remind me to give you a tongue-lashing for that in the morning,” Zane grunted, draping his arm over her belly.

“Promises, promises,” she mocked. And got a flick of his finger along her cunt, effectively shutting her up.

*************

{P.S. Thank you, M, honey, for a truly memorable weekend... Lotm}