Sugar Papito

"But then he stopped, walked 'round to my head, put his cock on my face, and snapped, 'Suck!'"

"Fuck, this is hot!" Chris bubbled. Meanwhile, his tongue and hands grew more urgent, prodding me to go on with my story.

"Oh, it was a sizzling situation, honey, and so was my unusual position, sucking his cock with my head upside down. Doug was really getting into it by this time, squeezing my tits, scratching my extended throat, and still talking dirty to me. He said things like, 'That's it, suck my cock. Slurp it up. Let's fuck that mouth of yours.' Meanwhile, I split my thighs wide and rubbed my clit for all it was worth.

"Every now and then Doug took his dick out and painted my face. Both my hands were working my pussy—one attacking my clit, the other burying two or three fingers into my cunt—so I had only my mouth with which to re-grasp his cock. I'd reach out for it with my lips and tongue, but he kept teasing me.

"He'd tantalise my mouth, smear my cheeks, nose and forehead, and then feed me the underside of his shaft. Once, he moved closer and lowered his balls onto my mouth to suck. Finally, Doug gave me the head of his cock; I craved it by that time and gobbled him up, sucking it in as deep as I could.

"He started fucking my mouth, pumping with a steady rhythm. A couple of times I almost gagged, Doug was so deep. It was insane, Chris! My position let me watch his balls swing as he jabbed his cock into my face, and that sight, combined with my busy hands, brought me to the brink of another orgasm.

"Doug was also close to cumming. His thrusts got forceful while squeezing my boobs hard. He grunted, groaned, and then stopped jabbing and convulsed. He twitched for a second in my mouth but withdrew. The first spurt partly hit my tongue and lips, but most of his cum showered my tits and neck. He drizzled the rest of it across my face. God! I was on fire! I stuffed four fingers into my pussy and polished my clit like mad while Doug sprayed me with his sap. It was the final blow; I had a mind-blowing orgasm a few seconds after Doug had bathed me in his cum."

Chris's lips nibbled my ear lobes. His barely audible mews spurred me to begin playing with his cock.

"Doug slumped but supported himself with his hands on my tits. He started massaging his sperm into me, working it into my breasts, neck, and face. When his hands brushed over my mouth, I sucked in one of his fingers and licked it clean. Our eyes then locked while he fed me his cum-soaked fingers, one by one. It was so sexy, Chris!"

"Shit, Catherine, I could cum listening to this! Did he help you clean it up?"

"You mean did he eat some of his cum? No. I knew he was uncomfortable about that. He cringed at his own cum."

"I'd have licked you clean, baby," Chris offered with a moan.

"I know, sweetheart, but you're special. Doug was so nice to me in other ways—and not just money—so I didn't try changing him. I was young, foolish, and content with making him happy the times we met. Don’t get me wrong; he didn't shrink away from me in revulsion, like some jerks. After a blow job, he'd kiss and cuddle with me, but he'd never lick up any spillage. Many of my lovers were terrified of it, actually. It amused me, to be honest, and it's not like he was the only man I had who was reluctant to taste his own cum, never mind someone else's."

As soon as I said it I realised my slip-up and held my breath. It was a story I had no intention of telling to Chris. Thankfully, he missed it. I breathed easier and quickly moved my story along.

"Anyway, I caught my breath, got up, and went to the bathroom to clean myself. When I returned, we sat on the sofa, Doug still naked and me in my heels, hose, and garter. We snuggled and talked, and soon began kissing. The events of the evening had made me incredibly horny. I wanted to get Doug hard again—I really needed to screw—so I lowered my head into his lap and mouthed his dick. It was soft and limp, but I kept at it, making it rise and stiffen. He got quite hot again, moaning and grabbing my hair while I brought his cock back to life.

"But then he raised my head, stood, and led me towards the bedroom. I thought he was taking me to bed to fuck me. Instead, Doug got behind and pressed me up against the bedroom door opening. His cock pushed against my ass while he angled my cunt against the door frame or jamb—whatever it's called. Then he told me to rub myself against the opening, so I hung onto the door frame casing with my fingertips and rubbed my clit against the frame, masturbating like that for him."

Chris's face bore a confused expression, so I elaborated on my position.

"My legs straddled the door opening allowing me to grind my cunt against the frame. Capisci?"

Chris's leer indicated that he pictured the scene.

"Doug lay on the floor, positioned himself, and gazed up at my pussy as I massaged it against the jamb and worked myself towards an orgasm. It was such a turn on! He coaxed me, saying things like, 'Mmm, come on, Catherine, rub your pussy against the frame; come on, fuck it; I want to see you cum,' while he stroked his cock."

My husband was moaning but managed to emit a soft, "Tell me more."

"I started with long, slow glides, wiping my pussy along the wood, bending my knees deep at the bottom of my strokes. I slid and gyrated my cunt against the frame, just like a stripper against a brass pole. But soon my thrusts quickened, and before long, my hips oscillated with short, steady jabs. The pace kept increasing until I was thrashing my clit against the frame as fast as I could in an effort to cum. But I knew I couldn't maintain such a tempo for long. It was frenetic! So although I was building to another orgasm, I almost gave up. But then I crossed that magic barrier and was home free; I knew I was there. Several more pumps and I went off like a firecracker! God, it was incredible!

"I collapsed, exhausted and trembling. Doug crawled over, flipped me onto my back, slid his cock into me, and, placing my legs on his shoulders, started banging me where I lay. My tits swirled and jiggled as he gave it to me with a steady rhythm, my feet and legs kicking up and down in response to the movement of his shoulders.

"My third orgasm, the one against the doorjamb, opened a gate; I began cumming in clusters, climaxing several times while Doug ploughed me. I was incomprehensible. Small orgasms washed over me every few minutes—I lost count. My pussy was pulsating! And I was in a quandary; I wanted to clamp down on his cock yet, at the same time, open my cunt to him as wide as possible."

"Jesus, Catherine, I can just imagine you, hot and horny, fucking him the way you do," Chris grunted into my ear. His stiff cock brushed against my thigh, leaving a smudge of pre-cum, and I ached for him to fill me.

"Can you, Chris?" I whispered back, "Can you imagine it?"

Chris moaned a confirmation as his fingers found my entrance, filling my hole, while his mouth migrated to my breast, sucking my nipples to the boundary of pain.

I was on the edge but managed to end my story. "Doug's plunging gradually sped up until he was finally pounding me. I was soaking; juices poured down my ass like from a busted pipe. I don't remember doing it, but Doug told me later that I was loud, begging him repeatedly to fuck me hard and to cum in my cunt. God, it was wild and wonderful! And when he did cum, watching him was so beautiful, especially when he threw back his head to push hard and burst inside me."

Chris's tongue at last completed its journey to my pussy. He knelt in front of me, as though in prayer, mouthing my vulva. It was a ritual I adored. I opened my altar for him, and my pelvis shook to his flicks of consecration across my button. The throbbing grew, my inner sanctum swelled, and I sensed my transfiguration, my crossing of the mystical threshold.

With his face buttressed against my cunt in worship, I anointed Chris's mouth and chin. He drank my holy waters while his fingers rolled my nipples like rosary beads. He knew me like a high priest knows the sacred verses and pressed his chin into me while focussing his suction onto my clit. His trance-like adoration guided my climb up the temple steps, urging me to ascend until I reached epiphany and quivered in salvation against his lips, tongue, and chin.

Chris then rose and approached my face. I took his offering of blood and flesh, erect and hard, within my lips and bobbed my head, longing to empty his pillar of its salty fluid into my body and soul. For a brief moment, Chris pulled out from my mouth and drizzled his cock with blood-red wine. I pounced on it and sucked with renewed eagerness, savouring the flavour of the wine and his cock. My tongue played with his column's ridges and veins, returning often to tease the orifice from which his passion would emanate and commune with me.

I continued feasting on him, increasing his frenzy, milking his cock with my mouth, coaxing him to release his nectar. He shuddered and spoke in tongues, lolling and shaking his head in ecstasy. Then, when his rapture finally arrived, he withdrew, and, aiming at my face, erupted and ejected three or four fiery blasts, baptising my cheek, mouth, chin, and neck. What remained oozed and dripped from his cock, and he used that to smear my nose and forehead, blessing me with his bodily fluid.

Upon spraying me with his cum, Chris keeled over top of me. Then, slowly, he arranged himself to lie with me and began to lick my face, scooping, collecting, and then kissing and sharing with me his honeyed milk that had started to gel against my skin. I clung to him like a lost soul at sea would claw at a raft and, with my mouth cravenly open, consumed the sperm he fed me and returned his savoury kisses.

Finally, Chris whispered, "Catherine, you bad girl. That was superb. I can't wait 'til tomorrow's story!"

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Many thanks to Chris O., Mariya T., WhiteWave48, a particularly helpful anonymous reviewer, and the Literotica story discussion circle.

Comments, criticism, and feedback are always welcomed.

The next story in this series is "The Three Amigos".

CC