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“Eric,” she whispered. “Here, give me your hand.” He reached out for her, finding first one raised knee, then the other. She lifted one of his hands, bringing a finger to her mouth and sucking it, tasting herself.

He made a low noise, and she heard him unbuckling and unzipping with his free hand. It was a sexy sound, although she was a little disappointed she wasn’t going to be freeing his cock herself. She pressed his hand between her legs, making him cup her whole mound and rubbing hard. He caught her rhythm, letting her rock against his hand.

“God, please, your tongue,” she begged.

He obliged, leaning in to suck and lick at her, no rhyme or reason to his efforts, just sheer lust and abandon.

Her hands found his hair, and she was surprised at the softness, how it curled, unruly and wild, around her fingers. She had a moment to wonder what color it was before he began focusing on her clit in earnest. His mouth seemed tentative, exploring her response, finding the place that made her squirm and gasp the most. Annie gave a loud moan when he found her sweet spot and his tongue focused there with a gentle flickering that began spreading warmth through her in tightening waves.

Annie tried to be quiet, still partially mindful that she was lying on her sister’s kitchen table and someone could walk in at any moment. Her whispered responses seemed to evoke such sensational growls from him. They shivered up her spine and sent her spiraling closer and closer to her peak. She couldn’t stop chanting, “Yes, yes, yes!” as quietly as she could manage.

His tongue moved faster and he eased two fingers into her, staying just at the entrance, twisting and pressing her open. The sensation made her buck her hips, her feet coming off the table. His mouth didn’t move from its position, and his fingers didn’t deviate from their motion. He simply hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and continued, persistent, urging her to completion.

She never wanted it to end, but she couldn’t hold back any longer. His tongue flickered with an unrelenting and enthusiastic insistence. She shuddered against him, lifting her hips and pressing his mouth down hard. Her hands fisted in his hair, while her whole body rolled with her orgasm.

Annie pressed his hand between her legs, covering her smooth, wet mound. He rubbed her gently, making her moan as little electric jolts ran through her body from every contact point-his hand covering her pussy, his tongue and lips moving to press against her thigh, the weight of him between her legs. She never wanted it to end.

“Don’t stop…” Annie’s voice was barely louder than a whisper as she spread her thighs wider, pulling her knees back. She felt Eric parting her with his fingers, his tongue searching again to find that tender, swollen bud at the top of her cleft. He moved his mouth back and forth over that sweet, sensitive spot, and she rubbed her palms over her hard nipples, sending pleasure waves down through her belly toward her hips. Everything was centered where his mouth tormented her. The soft, wet friction made her wiggle and pull at his hair, wanting more.

She tried to be quiet, but he was pulling her against his mouth, wild and unrestrained. His tongue was flicking faster and faster, and Annie urged him on, her thighs tightening, her hips rocking as she used his tongue for her pleasure.

This wasn’t a sweet, slow spiral upward. She was flying, racing headlong toward exquisite release. Eric’s tongue and mouth were a soft, wet, glorious push toward release. Annie moaned and twisted beneath him. She felt it begin in her belly, like a small earthquake, rumbling through her pelvis and driving her hips as she bucked and arched. Eric made encouraging noises in his throat, seeming to recognize the sounds and feel of her at her pinnacle, licking faster than ever. She gasped and quivered under his mouth, her belly convulsing, undulating. The little bud of flesh under his tongue pulsed with her pleasure and still he didn’t stop, teasing her with his tongue until she begged.

“I can’t stand it!” She half-laughed, half-sobbed as he flicked his tongue over that sweet, sensitive spot.

He cupped her ass in his hands as she began to spiral back down. His wet, tender kisses on her thighs and her lower belly made her tremble. She allowed herself to be gathered against him and relished the musky smell and tangy taste of her in his mouth as they kissed.

Her longing for him hadn’t abated, so she reached for the crotch of his jeans. She found his zipper down, his cock stiff and straining in his briefs. Annie slid off the table, noticing their height difference for the first time, how tall he was.

She sank to her knees on the tile, and he groaned when she pulled his jeans down his thighs and grasped his cock with her eager hand.

Leaning back against the table, he arched his hips toward her mouth as she explored him. His swollen cock throbbed against her tongue, the tip wet with pre-cum. She drew lazy circles down his shaft, forgetting about his pleasure and simply enjoying the slick, hard, hot pulse of him.

When she moved to take all of him, he moaned, thrusting deeper, his hand going to her hair, rocking with her rhythm. She scratched her fingernails lightly up over his thighs. When she cupped his balls in her hands, feeling their weight, she was rewarded with a pleasure-filled groan. He was slippery smooth, her saliva and his pre-cum mixing to make the perfect lubricant. Her mouth took as much of him as she could, his thick, tender flesh a delight against her tongue.

He stopped her, moving her eager mouth off his cock. She sucked at his fingers, still hungry. “Annie, I need to be inside of you.”

“Yes.” She captured his cock between them as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. He bent to meet her greedy mouth and she sucked his tongue, his lips. Her hands slid up under his shirt, seeking more of his warm skin against her.

His thumbs had found her nipples again, that silky sensation over the material making her knees weak. She wanted more and unhooked her bra, spilling her breasts. He pressed them together, creating a supple swell of flesh in his hands that seemed to sway him from his immediate need to be inside of her.

Annie wasn’t so easily distracted and she turned in his arms like liquid, bending over the table and hiking her skirt up her thighs. His hands followed her in the dark like a blind man seeking his way. He seemed to be discovering her position by feel, the back of her knee, her hip. His hand pressed the slope of her lower back forward until her belly touched the cool surface of the table.

His other hand slipped between her thighs, and she spread them at his insistence. Two fingers pressed inside her, easing the passage. For Annie, it created an aching frame of reference and desire for more while she waited for him to replace his fingers with his thick, throbbing cock.

Impatient, she reached behind her for it, groping in the darkness. He helped her, grunting when she squeezed and pulled on him in her excitement.

She stroked him that way for a moment, her movements awkward at that angle, but eager. He took his cock from her hand, positioning himself between her thighs and slipping the tip through her smooth, slippery little crease. When he entered her, pressing into her until there was nothing left, his hands pulled snugly at her hips as if to make sure. She sighed and moaned when he was all the way in, caught between the desire to stay filled and the longing to be fucked.

She wiggled an encouragement into the saddle of his hips, feeling the tip of his cock nudging against some deep, tender part of her as she did. His breath drew in and he withdrew a little—only a little—before pressing into her again. She whimpered in frustration, but he teased her with those short, easy strokes until she found herself gasping with the desire for more, begging him in a whispered hiss, “Please, Eric, fuck me hard!”