by Lily Harlem
He groaned and sank in. Hard and fast. Way beyond what I’d expected. Right until he hit the back of my throat. I arched my neck and curled my fingers around his hips, fought against my gag and swallowed him down my throat. Loving it but at the same time fighting it.
Teresa pushed her small fingers inside me. My knees dropped open and the arch in my neck spread down my back, almost lifting me off the bed. She curled her fingers forward and hit that delicious needy spot that was pulsating for pressure. I moaned around Tim’s cock. I was being possessed, used, treated so deliciously, wantonly.
“You okay?” he said from somewhere above me.
I nodded and my teeth caught on his shaft. He pulled out and shoved back in. I splayed my hands on his buttocks and felt them tense as he reached maximum depth. He pulled back again and I hollowed the roll of my tongue around his shaft.
“Yes, that’s it, baby, that’s it,” he said, pausing with just the head inside my mouth.
Salty liquid teased my taste buds, a drip of pre-cum. I cupped his balls, and at that precise moment, Teresa began to lave my clit with short, sharp rotations with the tip of her tongue. Tim sank back in as Teresa’s fingers assaulted my g-spot with devastating accuracy, pumping the pressure perfectly. I felt like I might pee but drove through the sensation as Tim began to grind in and out of my mouth like a jackhammer.
I groaned. I knew an almighty orgasm was heading my way—it was building deep within me. Teresa was merciless. She knew exactly what she was doing. I was going to come so hard. The tight band in my pelvis was about to snap. I wanted to hold it off, the anticipation almost as good as the climax itself. But Teresa’s little fingers were too skilful. I didn’t stand a chance.
Suddenly, I was there, in that delicious second of suspension between build up and release. Every nerve and muscle in my body was about to explode. Tim sank into my throat deeper than ever before and he let out a guttural cry of ecstasy that could have easily been mistaken for pain. Then he was pumping his seed down my throat. As my body convulsed around Teresa’s digits, he poured into me. I swallowed, fast, several times, gorging on the hot, milky-ness of his fluid. He tasted divine, better than anything I’d ever sampled before, and combined with my wild orgasm racing through me with Richter scale force, I didn’t know if I’d ever stop coming.
Teresa let her tongue come to rest and sat back on her heels, but she kept her fingers high up inside me, giving my vaginal muscles something to pulsate against.
Tim slipped from my mouth, unfolded and stretched out at my side. His face hovered over mine. “You okay,” he asked, his pupils wide, his brow moist and his mouth slack as he caught his breath.
“God, yes,” I managed through stretched, tight lips. “Never better.” I hooked a hand over his shoulder and pulled him down for a kiss as I revelled in the last moments of my climax.
He kissed me gently, tracing the contours of my lips as though worried they were sore. ‘That was so special,’ he whispered. ‘So fucking special you wouldn’t believe.’
“I know,” I replied, offering him my neck to kiss as his mouth trailed over my cheek.
“She’s a hottie,” Teresa said from the bottom of the bed. She curled her buried fingers forward and brushed them over my g-spot again. Even though I was wrecked and weak hanging onto Tim, my body curled forward and my pelvic muscles clamped around her. Teresa let out a girly giggle. “And she’s so damn responsive, Tim, especially just here.” She did it again, and this time, I couldn’t suppress a groan as my hips jerked.
“What do you mean ‘especially there’?” Tim said, lifting his head from the serious exploration of my neck.
“Give me your hand,” Teresa said.
Tim’s big hand slid over my clammy breasts and soft stomach. He rustled through my pubes and glided over my clit. “Here,” he said to Teresa, giving me a gentle rotation.
My thighs tensed. “Oh God,” I murmured.
Teresa’s free palm came down on my left leg, keeping me open wide and at their mercy. “Of course, there,” she said, “but also in here.” Her fingers curled forward again, hitting my inside spot. But this time, instead of tensing, my thighs relaxed, flopped apart, the difference in sensations was so delicious. This one was so deep, so primitive. I moaned and shut my eyes to the morning light flooding the room, totally lost to sensation.
“You try,” Teresa said to Tim as her girly fingers slid from my slippery body.
I couldn’t help the moan of disappointment, but soon stopped as two of Tim’s big fingers tunnelled into me, stretching me the way Teresa couldn’t. I squeezed around him, willing him to give me pressure in that special place Teresa had. I was desperate for it. I needed it again.
“Now curl the tips of your fingers forward.” Teresa said. “Until you feel a difference in the flesh, like a piece of corduroy, a bit rippled.” They were talking about me as though I was a bit of machinery, a keyboard of buttons and dials that needed tweaking just right.
Tim moved his fingers around inside me. I squirmed and willed him to settle in the right place. He raised his head and kissed me, delved his tongue into my mouth as his fingers delved my pussy. But he wasn’t getting it quite right. I let out a whimper of frustration.
“You’re too high.” Teresa said. “Your fingers are so big compared to mine, Tim.”
Tim withdrew slightly, and this time when he tipped his fingers forward and rubbed, he struck gold. A sudden whack of desire in my pelvis shot my hips up to meet his fingers. I moaned into his mouth.
“Bingo,” Teresa said. “That’s it. Can’t you just tell when you get it right?”
“Bloody hell,” Tim said, looking down at his hand buried between my legs. “I can feel it so clearly now you’ve pointed it out.” He treated me to another deep press with his fingertips then began to rub firmly.
“Tim,” I said, aware that my nails were digging into the flesh on his arms. “Oh, Tim, that’s so good…” He’d caught it just right, and his fingers were so much better than Teresa’s—bigger, stronger, harder.
“Take another one,” Teresa said. “She got one waiting to give you.”
Tim’s fingers continued to massage my g-spot as the heel of his hand caught my clit. I was vaguely aware of Teresa stepping off the bed and looking down at us.
“Tim, I…” I didn’t know what I wanted to say. The race to my second orgasm was on, blowing my mind with the depths of the sensations Tim was creating. “Tim, I…”
“Don’t talk, just come for me,” Tim whispered onto my lips.
A cry rang around the room. I didn’t realise until I heard the echo that it was mine. My whole body convulsed against Tim’s. My pussy clamped against the base of his fingers as though it would never let go. He continued to stroke deep inside me. It was bliss, prolonging the moment of climax, deepened the feeling. I sprang forward, grinding onto him and taking everything I could.
He scooped me close to his chest with his free arm and caught me as I fell back into a pile of shattered contentment against the bed. My breasts heaved and my tight nipples caught in his coils of chest hair. I knew I looked wanton, a sweaty mess, flushed and tangled. I didn’t care. I opened my eyes and gazed into his. There was so much love and lust, respect and tenderness pouring from him that I felt my heart would burst.
“My God, that works.” He grinned.
“Just a bit,” I managed, pulling in a quivering breath.
He kissed me, gently, reverently. His tongue dipped in a little then paused as I panted.
“I’ll see you guys later.” Teresa’s voice interrupted our sensual kiss.
“Hang on,” Tim said. “We owe you one…you know, an orgasm.”
Teresa laughed. “I’ll hold you to that.” She reached for the door handle.
“Stay,” Tim said.
“No, you two need some time alone. I’ll go find Carl, continue the foreplay. I like to stretch it out till the afternoon on a Sunday. It makes the end result all the more dramatic.”
; “See you later,” I managed. “And thanks.”
“Thanks not needed,” she said. “Like I said, it was foreplay, and I’ll hold you to it, the orgasm. I’m in credit, just the way I like it.”
The door shut gently, leaving us alone with tangled limbs and Tim’s hand still in my swollen, moist pussy.
“You do know you’re in trouble now, don’t you,” Tim said quietly.
“I am?”
“Yeah. Now, I know where the take-off button is, I’m going to keep you in a permanent state of ecstasy.” He moved his finger ever so slightly, making me catch my breath and clamp my hands harder onto him. “I’m not bothered about being in credit,” he murmured. “I just want to hit the target every time.”
“I think you just bulldozed the target.” I giggled.
“Mmm…” He kissed me. “I may be playing a little unfair here, but do you remember the question I asked you last month, on your birthday?”
My breath hitched. He must have felt my body tense against his because his arms flexed around me. “Yes,” I said.
“And, have you had time to think about it now?”
I looked up into his darkly handsome face, at the eyes I wanted to wake up to and go to sleep with for the rest of my life. A billion neurons fired off in my brain, ricocheting, clattering off of one another, but the overriding one shouted yes, yes, yes. I loved Tim. I loved how he made me feel, how he protected me, cared for me, but most of all, I loved being with him, caring for him and making him feel good. It was what I wanted to do…forever.
“Yes,” I said quietly.
“Is that a yes to my question or a yes you’ve had time to think about it?” He swallowed. He was nervous, despite the cheeky smile on his face.
“Yes to both. I’ve had time to think about it, and yes, Tim, I will marry you.”
His face cracked into a grin of elation and relief.
“As long…” I said just before his lips touched mine, “as long as we can still have fun at Buttercup Cottage sharing and learning about each other with the others.”
He pulled back. “Of course,” he said. “That’s part of the deal.” Then he kissed me, hard and determined, rolled me onto my back, replaced his fingers with his cock and sank deep. I knew in that instant we’d be together forever. Others would come and go, literally, but we would always be connected on a much higher level, a level of trust, respect and love.
About the Author
Lily Harlem lives in the UK with a workaholic hunk and a crazy cat. With a desk overlooking rolling hills, her overactive imagination has been allowed to run wild and free, and she revels in the written word as an outlet for her creativity.
Lily’s stories are made up of colourful characters exploring their sexuality and sensuality in a safe, consensual way. With the bedroom door left wide open, the reader can hang on for the ride, and Lily hopes by reading sensual romance people will be brave enough to try something new themselves—after all, life’s too short to be anything other than fully satisfied.
Email: [email protected]
Lily loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Lily Harlem
Christmas Crackers: Candy Canes and Coal Dust
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