Charlotte Ch. 2

I would not call myself fetish boy. Not that I am into plain vanilla sex, but rather that I don't go out of my way to worship feet, or nylons, or elbows, or whatever other kinks motivate the truly inspired. But with Charlotte I learned to appreciate more of what is out of white middle class ordinary.

Have I said she had the longest tongue?

"My turn" as she put it began with her sticking her tongue right up my ass. She licked eagerly around the edges of my puckered jewel then poked and twisted her tongue as her hand stroked my very hard penis. She licked up my butt crack and then back down and just lightly touch the underside of my ball sack. Her tongue moved back to my asshole and licked deep.

I have had a finger up my ass. I have had a vibrator poked up my poop chute. But her tongue was a new invasion as it pushed inside. For the briefest of moments I had a sense of what a woman must feel when a tongue laps from her clit and tolls between her lips.

After three or four pokes from her tongue she stopped. Let out a little laugh. And started kissing my leg. She had every intention of making me wait or at least linger a bit. She kissed her way slowly very slowly down my left leg, pausing, to suck the hollow behind my knee. She reached my foot. She sat up. She lifted my foot. Started with the little toe and sucked it delicately into her mouth. I shivered. All the hairs on my leg stood up to applaud. It was almost like being tickled, but not quite. I felt the edge of her teeth barely scrape the toe and her tongue swirled and teased. She scraped her top teeth over the toenail.

She took the toes one at a time gently sucking them as if each were a small penis to be milked of its load. Her right hand ever so lightly stroked my ankle and calf her fingers teasing twirling the hairs. Occasionally she would grab a little hair and pull just enough to give me a start, then back to the caress. Her hand would stray down and lightly brush my balls, then under the sack, then back up the leg. She licked between the toes. Sucked the big toe then that long one next to it. Then she kissed her way back up the leg.

I tend to be quiet during sex. Most middle class kids who had lots of sex in college dorms tend to be quiet. Sex was something just a little too naughty to be that public. Every guy on the hall might be humping someone, but the noises were all masked by a little stereo music. You communicate with your partner with looks and touch. You pull a hand where you want it to go. You show approval with a smile or you move with a little more energy, a bit more eagerly, with more urgency as you near climax.

Charlotte made me want to moan. I fought back the urge. She would have to earn a sense of my satisfaction.

Her mouth reached my aching ball sack and sucked in the left nut, then the right with just enough pressure that I thought it would hurt. The girl was all about suggestion and limits. She licked the base of my dick and up the shaft. Then stopped. Her mouth started in on my right leg. She kissed the inside of the thigh. Gentle kisses. Tickling kisses. Kisses with just her lips. Then a wet kiss. Then that long tongue would flick. Her hands took my foot and she squeezed the arch like you might during a good foot massage. She kissed down to my ankle. Then my heel. She kissed the bottom of my foot then moved to the toes. The long tongue licked the length of each toe and tickled the space between them. She took the big toe in her mouth and pumped it in and out. It made the slurping sound of a good wet blow job. She kissed the tops of my toes. Feather kisses. She clenched her teeth on the little hairs on the top of my big toe and pulled. Ouch. I jumped. She grinned.

Her left hand stroked the shaft of my penis. She fondled my balls. She stroked a bit faster. She squeezed the shaft. Then she stroked faster. She gently dropped my foot and moved between my legs. Her mouth wrapped itself around my penis. Her head bobbed up and down and she swallowed my entire member.

And then she stopped. Flopped herself on her back next to me in bed and announced "I'm spent." Punctuated with a laugh and an impish smile.

"You're what?"

"Thought I'd get you to make some noise somehow." She smiled some more. "You are so quiet. Like a corpse."

"But you just left me aching hard." I tried for an ironic tone in my voice in order to suppress a lurking whine.

"You could touch yourself," she said. "I like to watch a guy play with himself. Show me how you do it. Which hand do you use?"

She got that wide eyed inquisitive look. I looked at her. I was the professor here, as I recalled. This child had an agenda.

"Show me," she insisted. "I want to learn how you like to be touched."

I started slowly to stroke myself. Long strokes from the head to the base.

She kissed my ear. Nibbled the lobe. Kissed my neck. I kept stroking slowly.

"Touch your balls." She urged. "Touch 'em."

I fondled my balls. She kept kissing my neck. I stroked a little faster.

"Not so fast," she said. "My turn."

She started to stroke me. She kissed her way down my chest and took my penis in her mouth. She licked around the head like a child with an ice cream cone. She wet a finger and poked my ass. She sucked up and down on my shaft. Hesitated. Tongued the hole at the tip. She licked, then sucked. I was on the edge. She sucked faster. I started to cum. Squirt. She kept sucking and milked every drop she could before she stopped. She sat up and smiled.

"That was fun." She announced as she plopped herself on her back beside me. "Can I have a drink of water?"

"Sure you can." I just laid there.

"May I have a drink of water?" She tried again.

"Of course you may, why do you have to ask?" I still just laid there.

"Are you going to get me water?" She had a mock petulant tone in her voice.

"And why would I do that when I could just lay here, and watch your tight little behind wiggle itself out the door and to the kitchen. Oh and could you bring me a glass?" I thought for a second, "And make sure there is water in the glass."

I did want to watch her very tight ass. She sort of harrumphed, flashed a pout, and walked to the kitchen. I could get very used to this. I knew she would get the water. And with a little bit of rehydration we could move on to other things.

"Freeze frame!" I said as she reached the bedroom door.

"What?"

"I just wanted to savor a look for a moment."

She turned. Struck a pose. Cleaned up a bit, she is a vision. Very French. Pale white skin. Black hair. Framed in the light from the hall she looked quite delicate.

"Ok...where's my water?" I asked.

She returned to her little errand. I smiled.