Birthday Inspiration

The more his mouth ate and sucked at me, the further along the table I crawled until my hair was on my plate and my thighs were halfway on the wooden surface. He had to shift himself to continue his attentions, but half-crouching and with a throbbing erection, as a pass up his thigh by my foot told me, he was becoming uncomfortable and in need of relief.

He was quick, at that point, to bring me to orgasm. With his tongue buried as deep as it could reach and his lightly-rough chin pressed into my inner thigh, he raised a hand and thrummed at my clitoris with his thumb. His tongue curled up and pressed to the roof. I felt like I was lifting off the table with the feeling he gave me. Then the very tip began to flutter and the lifting turned into floating and then rocketing and somewhere it all became hazy. I couldn't hear anything but a rushing in my head, as hazy as everything but that marvelous feeling.

But after an indefinite time, I began to sink and settle, until I found myself on the table again. Chris had removed himself from me and I found him standing between my knees, looking down at my body and my face. His penis hung over the wood, insistent for attention. I intended to give it some…once I got my strength back.

I tried to lift myself onto my elbows to hoist myself up, but even such a simple movement was so difficult in my climax-addled state. My head bobbed and my elbow slipped. I felt like I was tipsy from too much to drink, and probably looked it, too. Drunk from sex. What an intoxication.

Chris let out a chuckle and stepped to the side, reaching out with one arm to scoop up under my back. "I take it that was to your liking?"

"Mm." It was a drunken slur. Somehow my words had left me. All that came was, "Great." It didn't even begin to describe.

"Either I'm better than I thought, or you really needed that." He lifted my shoulders up and my head lolled back. He took advantage of the angle to kiss me. I could taste my cum. The thought only brought me aback for a moment before I moved my lips and tongue into the kiss.

The kiss was long and sensuous, and by the time it was done, my drunken haze was over and I was yearning for him again. We had arrived at the bed and he laid me down on top of the blanket. I didn't wait a second to slip my skirt off. Lying on the bed as I was, though, it was a bit more difficult to manage my top and bra. My fingers fumbled with the buttons in my eagerness and once I had them undone, I couldn't get my arms out of the sleeves.

Chris stopped his own undressing and lowered down over me. I would have stared at his chest if I'd had the warning, but as it was I didn't know he was over me until his ear was brushing my cheek and his skin filling my lungs with the smell of soap. First I felt his lips on my neck behind my ear. Then his hand slipped around my side and up my back. I shivered at both of those touches.

His hand lifted me up, and as we both shifted with the movement, I heard the bedsprings creak. His lips kissed a little lower, right under my ear, and I found it was a pretty sensitive spot. I closed my eyes and sucked in a long breath, but as I closed to the end of the breath, his other hand touched the other side of my neck, his fingers brushing lightly down and under the collar of my shirt.

His hand swept the shirt from my shoulder, and his mouth ducked under the collar at my other shoulder. I rested my hands behind me on the mattress and felt the fabric of my shirt slide down my arms a little. I felt his hand find the clasp of my bra and slowly unhook the hooks. One by one, I shook the sleeves down my arms and free from them, tossing it aside so that I wouldn't have to feel the wrinkled mess under my back.

I had barely to lean back into his hand to let him know I was ready before he lowered me back to the bed. He kissed down from my shoulder to one breast as he removed the straps. By the time he had slipped the cups off, his lips were there to cover my now-exposed breast with his breath and his mouth.

I still couldn't see his chest…obviously, as he was bent over me, but with my hands now free, I could feel it. Chris shifted his weight onto one elbow as he tried to remove his pants and underwear, giving me the opportunity to place my hands on his stomach. In erotica, they never mention how awkward the angle is to put your hands flat on a guy's stomach while you're right in front of him. But in erotica, you don't think about things like that.

His stomach was flat, but not firm. I felt his muscles flex in interesting places as he worked to free himself from his pants and underwear. His skin was a little damp from sweat, so it dragged a little as I felt up to his chest. Then my fingers felt the hair on his chest. It wasn't coarse or thick.

Chris' mouth closed over the skin at the edge of my breast, catching the tender skin between his lips and sucking a little so that when he pulled back, it was pulled with him. With my attention divided, it didn't feel quite as strong as it would have, but it still felt nice, like a warmness instead of the burning, searing feeling of the frantic passion.

The bed beneath me shifted again, the springs creaking, as he climbed up with me. We were both completely naked. One of his knees was between mine, the other beside my left knee. I slid my feet up the bed a little bit, bending my knees. The air around my right knee became warmer as it neared his crotch. His mouth kissed closer to my nipple and his hand cupped the right side of my ribcage. I shivered.

My hands continued up, into his chest-hair over his pectorals. The muscles under my right hand shifted as his hand continued up my side. My fingers played a little with the thin hair there, wanting to tickle the muscles that moved. He let out a noise into my breast in response and my fingers played a little harder.

Chris' growing need had slipped my mind by this time, so when I raised my hips toward his, the poke into my stomach took me by surprised. He groaned and with his tongue sweeping down and capturing it, took my nipple into his mouth. I flexed my stomach, playing with the head. It bobbed and bounced, exciting us both. He sucked in at my nipple and through his nose, which sent a sharp stab of pleasure into me.

I lowered again and the weight of his penis on my stomach disappeared. I moved my right arm up beyond my head, exposing my right side and breast to him, though his mouth was still busy with the other. The fingers of my left hand, however, skimmed down over his chest and stomach until my wrist felt the protruding evidence of his excitement. He groaned again, which became deeper and more urgent as I took his head in my hand.

Just the feel of it in my hand was amazing, even if only for the way it made my body feel. The hardness and rubbery feel and the way it twitched made me ache. My inner lips smacked in hunger. I wanted to spread my legs and lift myself up, to take him in. And I could tell by the way he tore his lips from my nipple and moaned into my shoulder, that he wanted the same thing.

The lust in my scrambled for him, but a part of my brain wondered if I shouldn't go slow and let it build. The question made me hold my breath. The aching became a painful throbbing. I needed him to enter me and quench the painful hunger.

"Condom," I whispered into his ear. His hand left my side and he raised his head. His movement moved him in my hand, causing him to fumble with the drawer and a box inside it. A moment later, he brought a plastic square package to his teeth, where he ripped it open, revealing a small milky-clear rolled condom.

I let go of him and reached for the condom, testing it to find which side was which. I placed the ring around the tip of his head and rolled the sides down, the sticky wet spermicide making it slippery, but easy to move onto him.

My right leg bent more. The brushing of my knee upon his hip made him quiver. It was a strange angle, a little tilted up to the right, but I lifted my hips again. I directed his head between my legs. He quivered and breathed heavily into my shoulder as his hips followed the direction in which my hand led them.

My body was practically humming with anticipation, as I placed his head against the lips of my sex, as I slid my fingers between the folds and spread my wings for him. His hand caught just at the base of my back, where it meets my behind, and started to move forward. But my opening wasn't used to stretching. My vibrator was smaller than average penis-girth.

Chris' approach was slow to my tightness, but the feeling of need just became stronger, so I breathed out, "Just thrust in."

"Mmh…" I could hear him restraining his movements, even as they wanted to follow my directions. "You sure?" he panted.

"Yes," I returned. "Plea—ease!"

I had only just got the yes out before he thrust in and accented my plea with a squeak of surprise.

He didn't go in very far this first time, but it was far enough that I could feel my walls stretch and the hunger begin to wane. After a brief pause, though, he started to move forward again. It was easier, now that he was inside me.

When he had gone as far as he could go, he paused and let us feel the tightness. Then he pulled back, not so far, and thrust forward again. With the strange angle, he went up into the right corner. It was a corner I hardly ever hit in my own play, and it rubbed against a part that made me gasp and clamp onto him. He pumped again inside me, and again, going a little deeper each time.

After a half a dozen thrusts inside me, he scooped his hand under my right knee and hooked it over his elbow, causing me to turn on my side. I was opened further for him, and probably presented quite a view, would anybody have been looking.

The passing thought brought me aback and I gasped out. If Eddie had been here, what would she think? If Eddie had been here. The idea, I don't know why it hadn't occurred to me before! It was one thing to tell Eddie about my experiences, but what if she could see them!

The idea was barely a second in occurring, but the effect it had on what Chris was doing to me was fantastic. Suddenly my legs seemed that much wider apart and my opening that much more spread. I wanted Eddie to watch! And she wanted to watch, even if she didn't know it. That's what she had always lusted after, asking me to describe my fantasies and my masturbating and if I'd had any other flings. She had orchestrated sex for me. She was a voyeur!

And I was her exhibitionist.

I had forgotten about Chris and was left only with the idea of Eddie's eyes on the intruder plunging inside me and pounding at my back wall. With desperate hands, I grabbed at the blankets. I shouted into them. With each thrust I wanted more, needed more. How could I feel so open when he was filling me up?

Everything became chaos, disconnected. I lost track of even Eddie, and it was just every single thrust bringing me higher and closer. I was barely aware of his voice as it grunted, but I felt the spasmodic jerking and it sent sparks to my mind. I burst and fell, like a balloon blown too full, and the dizzy helium kept my mind at a high even as it leaked out of me.

My body fell onto its back. My leg fell onto the bed. It seemed a hundred feet, each. My lungs gulped in air and I tried with my muzzy mind, to return to the room and to Chris and to myself. And most of all that inspiration that had sent me into that state in the first place.

It seemed ages, but finally I looked over at Chris beside me and his glistening chest. It was a sight. My eyes carried down over it to his stomach, which had barely a definition of muscles, and down to his flaccid penis. Then I looked at his face.

"Chris, I've had an idea."