The Switch Ch. 07

'Oh fuck, Aimee,' he whimpered.

He reached for his cock, placed his hand over hers, and helped her jerk him off. She hadn't been sure how he'd react, but even in her wildest dreams she hadn't imagined he'd be so enthusiastic. He was making all sorts of delicious sounding noises. She poked her tongue firmly against his entrance, and this time, the ring of muscle yielded and she penetrated.

'Lick your fingers and put them in there,' he ordered. 'Please. Aimee. Fuck.'

She stopped kissing him, and sucked on the fingers of her free hand. She wasn't quite sure how to penetrate him, but he spread his legs wider, found her hand, and helped show her the way. She knew when she'd found the right place because he swore under his breath, and started masturbating himself again.

It didn't take him long to approach climax. His movements became disorganised and his cries got louder. He begged her to insert another finger. He demanded that she fill him. Aimee grinned and slipped another finger inside.

'Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum,' he muttered. 'You feel so fucking good, Aimee. So fucking, fucking...oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh shit. Aimee, Aimee, Aimee. Harder, fuck me harder.'

His asshole was clenched tight around her fingers, and his body jerked and thrust as he came. She watched, intoxicated with lust. Her panties were dripping wet. What she wouldn't give for him to turn around, strip her naked, and show her some oral appreciation.

Instead, Val had only just finished orgasming, when the oven timer sounded. The sound made them both panic, and they leapt apart.

'Holy shit, I thought someone was here,' Aimee giggled, rising to her feet.

Val smiled. 'Me too.'

'I'll go and wash my hands,' she said.

'Grab me the paper towel while you're there?' he asked, inspecting the mess he'd made.

She rinsed out her mouth, washed her hands and gave him the paper towel. He cleaned himself, while she wiped over the cabinets. Her hands were trembling, and she was acutely aware of how aroused she was.

Val checked the oven. 'Goddamn, the timer's broken. I'm going to have to guess how long it needs to be cooked for.'

'However will we occupy our time?' she inquired.

He laughed. 'Come here. I reckon if you stood behind this cabinet, I could lick your clit until you were screaming.'

She walked over. 'Sounds good to me,' she agreed, hiking her dress up and dropping her underwear.

He knelt on the ground and flicked his tongue against her sex. She spread her legs and leaned her back against the counter top. He knew exactly what to do to get her squirming.

Within minutes she was pulling his head tighter against her body. She felt him slide a finger into her channel, but no sooner had she gotten accustomed to the intrusion, than another digit found it's way into her pussy, leaving her feeling very, very full.

His tongue lashed against her clit and she thrust into his face desperately. She was close to climax. She just needed a little more pressure. A little more. No, no, no, that was good. That was very, very good. She let out a gasp, shoved his head into her pussy, and cried out that she was cumming.

She crammed herself as far into his mouth as possible. She could hear herself crying out as wave after wave of pleasure racked her body. He was so goddamn fucking good at this, so goddamn fucking good. It felt like a lifetime before the convulsions faded away and she was left, trembling, in front of him.

'Oh God,' she mumbled, stroking his head. 'I'm so sorry.'

He looked up and grinned. 'Are you kidding? I'd bring a packed lunch and stay down there all day if I could.'

She grinned. 'Whatever. Soo are we going to stay? Have I proven I'm not a prude?'

Val stood up and went to wash his hands. He didn't speak, so she pulled up her underwear, adjusted her dress, and went over to give him a hug. She whispered her question again, hoping that this time he'd answer in the affirmative.

He sighed tiredly, as if his good mood was being ruined by a petulant child. 'Aimee, we're going home. What's out there is not anything like we did in here.'

She was crushed. The rejection was palpable. He wanted her, but not for sex. He wanted her for babies and marriage. That was the moment she gave up. He was never, ever, going to believe she was capable of giving him what he wanted, not unless 'what he wanted' was a fair-skinned, blue-eyed Muslim child.