Part 3

She stumbled off the bed toward the bathroom, laughing and muttering “oh my God,” and I just lay there, her taste still lingering on my tongue, my body throbbing, skin on fire. I peeled off what was left of my clothes without rushing, savoring that private thrill of knowing I’d be touching myself thinking about someone real, someone still right there. I leaned back against the headboard and let my legs fall open, feeling the cool sheet brush against my still-damp thighs. My hand started creeping up my belly, tracing every curve, circling my tits until I reached my hard nipples. I pinched one, then the other, and let a moan slip out as the shiver shot through me.

With my other hand, I slid down between my legs. My pussy was pulsing, completely shaved smooth, hot, the inner lips swollen and parted, slick under my already-wet fingers. I glided over my clit with a light touch, then firmer, in tight circles. The pleasure hit fast because the ache had been building forever. My hips started grinding on their own, breaths coming short and ragged, fingers working in rhythm, dipping in, pulling out, rubbing harder. I tugged at my nipples, licked my own fingers, pictured her mouth down there, eating me out hungrily, and I nearly lost it.

I came hard, my whole body shaking, thighs clenching, belly arching in waves. My moans echoed in the room, muffled by the pillows, and when it faded, I still felt those little aftershocks rippling over my skin. Heart pounding, hand soaked between my legs, chest heaving. And even then, all I could think was: if she walks back in right now, she’ll find me like this — spread wide, sweaty, ready for more.

I was laughing, still panting, hands buried between my thighs. No real shame, not deep down. Truth is, I wanted her to catch me, wanted her to walk in on me exposed, legs open, totally surrendered. But she only came back after I’d already come. She stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, face flushed, a shy smile tugging at her lips. She stopped beside the bed, standing there, eyeing me up and down like she was seeing my body for the first time, with this curious, nervous, almost worshipful look.

I stayed quiet, just watching. Her beauty hooked me — the hair still tousled, the towel hugging her curves, skin still glowing from sex, that confused spark in her eyes. She looked like she was wrestling with whatever was going on inside, and I was dying to know what was spinning in that pretty little head.

“And now?” she asked, voice low.

“You wanna eat me out?” I shot back, straight up.

She blushed hard and laughed, awkward.

“Seriously… I don’t know how. I can try, but I don’t think I can pull it off.”

“Drop the towel. Come here.” I said, shifting on the bed, spreading my legs slow.

She hesitated for a second, but then let the towel hit the floor. She knelt between my thighs and, with a shaky move, tied her hair back in a quick ponytail, eyes dodging mine. The silence while she got settled was almost torture. The air felt thicker, like time was holding its breath with me.

When she leaned in over me, her eyes searched mine, all nervous. Like she was hoping I’d stop her, say “never mind,” but I didn’t say shit. Just waited.

She stared between my legs with this intense, almost clinical focus, like she was studying my pussy, curious, unsure. She froze there for a few seconds, face serious, taking in every fold, every glisten. Then, with her fingertips, she touched me lightly, spreading me open slow, like she was inspecting. Like she was looking for some similarity to herself.

And that touch, so light, so tentative, sent chills through my whole body. It was automatic — my eyes fluttered shut and an “oh” slipped from my lips, full, involuntary, packed with barely held-back need. She stopped, freaked, thinking she’d messed up.

“Look… I’m gonna try. I don’t know what I’m doing, okay? If I screw it up… sorry.” Her voice was almost begging for permission, admitting her fear and surrender.

I don’t know what came over me — maybe the aftershocks from my last orgasm still teasing my thighs, maybe the rush of seeing her so close, kneeling between my legs, face tight, lips trembling. But I grabbed her ponytail and yanked her head against me, hard, arching my hips like my body wanted to swallow her whole.

“Ow!” she yelped between laughs, her mouth already brushing my pussy. “Easy! I’m getting there…”

“Sorry… impulse.”

“You’re full of impulses. Act like a guy.” She said with a nervous little giggle.

I went quiet, trying to steady my breathing, focusing on what was about to go down. My eyes locked on the top of her head, her tense shoulders, her awkward hands resting on my thighs. She leaned in again, more careful this time, and her face sank between my legs, slow.

She started by smelling me. Literally. Let her nose graze lightly, like testing the water before jumping in. She breathed in deep, hesitant, then let hot air out against my skin. That sent goosebumps from my toes to my scalp.

Her lips brushed my pussy like a shy kiss. A quick peck. Then another.

Little wet kisses, kinda clumsy, no direction, not sure where to start.

She flicked her tongue lightly, a timid lick that barely parted my swollen lips. She was touching me more with fear than lust, but even so… it was driving me insane.

The simple fact that it was her first time.

The way she leaned in with her whole body, trying to figure out female pleasure with her mouth.

How she explored my exposed flesh with her tongue, kinda lost, kinda mesmerized, like she was searching for some logic in there — and I knew she wouldn’t find it. Pussy isn’t something you figure out, it’s something you feel.

She spread me with her fingers, slow, pulling the inner lips apart to get a better look. Stared at me like I was a fruit sliced open for the first time, pulp shiny and dripping.

She went back to licking. A bit firmer now. The tip of her tongue sliding up through the folds, like following an invisible line. And then she hit my clit, like she had no idea what it was, but felt my instant reaction — a shiver, a low moan, a slight buck of my hips.

She pulled back, surprised.

“This feel good?” she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Right there. Keep going…”

She smiled, embarrassed, and dove back in.

She lapped at it with more confidence, and I felt every try, every miss, every hit. The touch was too light, wet just right, no skill, but all in.

She licked without pressure, sometimes just pressing her mouth there, like tasting something new and not sure if she liked it yet.

What was making me lose my mind wasn’t the pleasure itself, but watching her down there, bent between my legs, smeared with my wetness, learning from me, for me. That curious look, her clumsy fingers spreading my shaved, soaked, hot pussy, like exploring a secret she’d always wanted but never dared.

She started circling with her tongue in a steadier rhythm, like she’d found a groove. It wasn’t perfect. But it was real. I moaned low, letting my head fall back, fingers digging into the sheets. It was getting good. Good enough to want to teach, guide… or just let her figure it out on her own, in her time.

But if she kept at it like that… I knew it wouldn’t be long before my body gave in again. The way she ate me, trying so sweetly at what she hadn’t mastered, was hotter than any pro tongue. The hesitation at the start was turning into this shy but growing hunger, and I was right on the edge.

“Fingers…” I moaned, begging between short gasps, hips already grinding against her mouth. “Slide a finger in…”

She did. Slow, careful, and went deep just right. Not too shallow, not too much. It was like my body was teaching her with every squeeze, like my flesh was guiding her moves inside. Her fingers spread me and hit that hidden spot, that sensitive inner wall that, when touched just right, made my belly clench like a fist.

My body lit up instantly. Hands gripped the sheets hard, fingers clawing. My legs shot straight in spasms, like the rush of pleasure hit from so deep it took over everything, from my neck to my toes. It was a hot, deep punch, spreading through me like wet thunder, an explosion of flesh and heat.

Her tongue still danced on my clit while her fingers pumped inside, and it all felt wired together in an electric line from my core to my brain. I couldn’t think anymore. Just feel. Wanted to scream, but could barely breathe.

The sound of my ragged breathing mixed with the wet slap of her fingers sliding in and out was filthy, desperate, fucking amazing. And with every thrust, I felt my body about to blow. My belly tightened, my pussy clenched hard, and I knew I was gonna come — with everything.