Blowjob Blues?

Do you ever get tired of me sucking your dick? I'm only curious, but let me back up.

This morning, with your morning wood half hard in the flannel of your pajamas, I had sank to my knees began kissing it through the fabric. You half laughed, grabbed your toothbrush and fired it up. The hum a sign of morning like the sunshine outline of the blinds. I peeled the band of your sleep pants down, tugging as you laughed around the vibration, foaming at the mouth. It took exactly two swipes of my tongue, broad, across the tip of your fat cock and you relented and rocked against me, your balls in my cupped hands as I sucked and slurped. My fingers digging into your hip until I feel the prickling of your skin and taste your salty cum. I keep it in my mouth, gently swallowing around your dick as you shiver. Your cum drools over my lip, onto my chin. You yanked me to you and spanked my butt. "Go make breakfast, troublemaker."

Then there was lunch. We took that hike to the waterfall to eat the peanut butter sandwiches you packed and cut into triangles. We drank the lemonade you packed carefully into glass jars with extra-tight lids. Nobody was around. It's icy. Clicks and caws of crows echoed around the spindly trees. Ice melted and trickled into the flowing water, occasionally breaking off in chunks. The air smelled cold, tasted cold. We were bundled up to our big coats and I thought, like a genius, what if we stripped down naked and you fucked me against a tree? You nixed that idea. You said, and this is a direct quote, "You're such a baby when you're cold." I resent this. I am naturally a cold person, always cold, it's only the freakish cold of your part of the woods that chills my bones and makes me... a baby.

Okay, I guess you're right. I'm a baby when it's cold. We made a compromise that left you bare from your waist to your knees, your smell so intoxicating to me it makes my eyelids droop. Your very smell makes me feel like an animal, like I should roll over and spread my legs, show my submission. I took you in my mouth, my eyes on your chin, but you weren't looking at me. Your eyes scanned the tree line, keeping us safe from intruders in what felt like, at this very moment, our woods. Your fingers tangled in my hair on either side and I bobbed up and down on that cock that seems made for my mouth. I kept shifting my hips, my clit throbbing, demanding attention like always. When you came, your fingers curled in my hair and your growls so deep and loving. I swallowed it all and it began to snow as we headed home.

Then there was the kurfuffle at the grocery store. Or, okay, on the way to the grocery store. My hand kept drifting between your legs and you kept saying things like "safety" and "insurance rates" and I said things like: Please, please, please. I want to suck on you. You pulled onto a lease road and I stretched out along the seat, laying on my belly, and went so gentle. Taking my sweet time to lick it wet. I guess you had enough of my blow jobs because you yanked me onto your lap when you were throbbing hard and fiddled with the skirt of my dress, sitting my wet cunt right down on you. Impaling me with it in one motion so I yelled out, my eyes rolling up, and my hand on the ceiling of your truck. I was so slick and ready, I came with my nipple in your mouth. I road you until your cum flooded me and spilled out of me. I'm sorry for the scratch marks I left on your arms as I clung to you, my pussy squeezing around you, milking you of ever last drop of cum. I need it, I think, your cum in all of my holes.

Now it's late and I'm eating fig newtons and drinking my tea. We're watching a movie about such and such, the colors flashing across your face with grimaces when the music shifts too loud and you have to find the remote that somehow always dives below the millions of throw blankets I demand we keep on the couch in winter. Both of us on either side of the couch and I'm wondering if you're tired of my blowjobs or if, just maybe, you could stand one more...