Girly Girl

"What are you looking at?" she inquired sweetly.

"Perfection," I told her breathlessly.

"Mmmm, it's not quite perfection yet," she said. "Perfection requires your tongue!"

"Oh, you want me to lick this perfect pussy and not just stare at it?"

She giggled, exactly the sort of tone I had hoped to hear. "Yes, baby, lick me, make me cum for you, make your girl cum," she urged in that smoky bedroom tones of hers.

"My pleasure, baby," I said and moved forward a bit, and dropped my mouth onto her body. As always, the first slam to my brain was that of the heat. How hot her pussy was on my tongue. Then, the texture, the plump flesh that gave way so smoothly under the movements of my nose. As I inhaled her scent filled my nose and that decadent intoxication took hold, and only then did her exquisite taste slam home. Her moans, throaty and soft, drove me forward. She had long known that I loved making her orgasm, especially with my tongue.

Finding her button was easy though my position was a bit odd. She draped her leg over me, over my back, and reached to pull my legs up more into a fetal position. Doing so allowed her to reach her fingers to my throbbing cock. Though in my position it was harder for her to pleasure me, but just that light touch was enough.

I moaned into her pussy.

She moaned as the pleasure of my tongue slammed through her body.

Her hips worked slightly, up and down, little jerks as I found particularly juicy, sensitive spots and focused on them for a moment. Then another moment.

"Oh, babe, lick my pussy!" she groaned happily. I loved how Jasmine was so proper during the day, but when well and truly aroused, all manner of coarse talk uttered from her mouth. "Make me cum on your face, lick my creamy pussy!" she cried, shuddering from the pleasure of my tongue's movements.

And over and over, my tongue slid over that smooth, hot flesh. The taste filling my mouth, the heat growing. Her left hand falling to my head and her nails scraped over my scalp as she sought purchase and her right fell from my cock, moving to my ass to grip and hold and pull me deeper and tighter to her.

"Yes, faster, yes!" she groaned. "Oh fuck you're gonna make your girl cum so fucking hard!" she cried, her body beginning to jerk a little under the constant slippery movement of my tongue.

"Fuck oh fuck, Trav!" she squealed. Her leg banged against my back and she sucked in her breath harshly and held it.

Recognizing the signs of her onrushing orgasm, my tongue sucked her clit hard into my mouth, pulling it hard to my ever-moving tongue and my reward was a bath of wetness and a desperate cry then haggard gulps of breath as her body sucked in oxygen as her muscles burned through it all. I lapped at her, knowing that my lapping motions would elongate her orgasm, and she loved to know that I was taking her creams into my mouth.

It must have been an extra-strong orgasm because she suddenly cried out in a distressed tone, and shoved me. I went tumbling onto the floor from the couch and sat up. She had her legs pulled up tight to her body, wrapping her hands around her knees and looked wild-eyed at me as she panted. "T-too sensitive!" she whispered.

I grinned and took a seat next to her. She looked over at me as I drew my arm around her shoulders. She laid against me and shuddered; when she looked up at me again, her eyes were glassy like she was about to cry.

"Are you all right?" I asked her.

She nodded quickly, her lower lip drawn between her teeth. "P-powerful orgasm," she mumbled after a few more breaths. She finally leaned against me as her shaking subsided.

"Oh god wow," she breathed softly after a few more moments of peaceful rest in my arms. Her head turned to look at me. "That was so powerful," she told me.

I smiled. "I'm glad to hear that!" I assured her.

She wrinkled her nose slightly. "I know you like making me cum, telling you that you made me cum," she said.

"Yep," I agreed easily.

"Seems that maybe it's my turn to make you feel good," she said. She slowly uncurled her body and legs and shoved me further down on the couch. "I'm still feeling slutty," she whispered. "Wanton. Needy. Uninhibited."

"Ooooh," I whispered back as she nestled herself between my legs.

"Remember," she said as she gasped my erection in her fingers and held it vertically, "I want moans!" she reminded me.

"Yes...OOOOOOOHHHH!" I cried out, twitching as her tongue dragged from the base of my cock up to the spot behind the glans that is so sensitive.

"That's it, baby," she crooned between sliding her tongue around that spot and licking it with the tip of her tongue. She kept a firm but not hard grip at the base of my cock. "I bet you wish you hadn't told me about this little spot!" she teased.

"mmmmMMMMm oh oh hhhhhh Jasssss!" I moaned.

"Oh that's hot, baby, do that again," she crooned, then did a full-tongue lick on that spot. My eyes were open and watched her, those bewitching eyes glinting with mischief and pleasure as her red lips were opened and her tongue out, flattened against my flesh. The movements left me with my jaw hanging open and panting.

"Writhe on the couch, that's it baby, writhe, like I do," she said as she brought her tongue back into her mouth for a swallow, then did it again.

Well, it's hard NOT to writhe under that sort of touch. My hips rose and fell and my entire body felt like it was rippling under that pleasure. When she reached under with her other hand to cup my balls, I moaned wildly again, that jerking of my body growing more desperate.

"Oh I can't wait to see you cum," she moaned, that coolness that she had moments earlier fading quickly. "Your cock is so hot against my tongue!" she moaned.

Nothing like your girl losing a little of her control to drive you along.

"Fuck, come for me, baby, I need to see you cum!" she cried, her tongue moving fast against that spot, cupping my balls lightly and adding a short, quick stroking to the base my cock.

"JAASSSSS"! I wailed, and my back arched up off of the couch and she felt my balls tighten and my body stiffen in preparation for releasing my cum, and then it was spewing out. Its high arc in the air and forceful ejection left a splatter on my upper chest. Each subsequent spurt was fell further down my body until it was nothing more than a slow ooze. She released me as I started to squirm as the intensity of sensation overtook me as well.

She crawled onto me, dropping her body down onto mine, smearing my cum all over both of our bodies. It was slippery and warm and a little kinky and I smiled.

We kissed and kissed and remained there for a long time that night.

The weekend following that night, we left on Saturday night for a four-hour drive to a town where we'd secured a basic hotel. We had a pleasant supper and then went to bed where we shared a deeply pleasurable but otherwise routine romp in the hotel room bed, and then rose the next morning to hit a major antique fair. It was their spring fair, and it brought in shoppers and vendors from all of the surrounding states. It was crowded, and we dressed smartly for the event with sensible walking shoes. Even so, as always, Jasmine looked way better than me, although she had taken pains in helping me select my clothing.

You just don't see men walking through antique fairs wearing an untucked blue button down with a loose sweater layered over top. But that's what I wore, along with a good pair of jeans and those sensible, but stylish, shoes. I looked better than most men and while it took me a moment or two to get comfortable with my attire, I was actually feeling pretty good about how I looked. Jasmine helped - she fawned over me every chance that she got.

Now we had a shopping list of things that she wanted, some for her shop, some for her studio and a few things for the apartment. The day was enjoyable but tiring. We moved slowly together, talking about this and that. I knew her style and what she liked, and it was fairly easy to assess whether or not a particular booth was worth a stop. Jasmine was like that - she was quick to dismiss a vendor if it had nothing in particular that she needed - but if that vendor did have some options, she browsed slowly and carefully. Over the course of the day, I had to make two trips to the vehicle to stow purchases, and we finally left around five-thirty. She had exhausted her budget and the back of my car was pretty much out of space. But she was happy and bubbly and we chatted lightly all the way home.

The long day ended with me toting the goods into her studio, and then finally the last trip as we brought a few items into the apartment.

"Wow, that was quite the day," she said as she sighed tiredly. She looked fondly at her few items that she bought, then looked up at me with that familiar glint in her eye. "I guess that it's a good thing that we have a wonderful bedroom haven to go to rest and recover, don't you think?"

Of course I had to smile. "Yes, it is."

"We should go there. You know, to make sure that everything's still as feminine and swaddling as it needs to be!" she said in a light, teasing tone.

I blinked but my hesitation did not last long. "Oh you know me," I assured her, "being clad in the soft silky and feminine always makes me happy!"

She held out her hand and I put mine into hers and together we entered that bedroom. We slipped into bed, naked and ready, and as she rocked on top of me, the covers falling off of her body to gather behind her rocking hips, she leaned down to kiss me hard as she came and came while rocking on my erection. I came a short while later and we laid in our mess again, although she did scramble to clean me up quickly so that we did not leave too many stains on the expensive sheets...

A groan and a muttered "fuck me!" coming out of the bathroom the next morning announced the usual monthly pause on all sexual activity. But it was also a Monday and we both had pretty filled schedules that week so it wasn't like we were going to come home feeling all warm and fuzzy as it was. We left at our usual times, her face tighter than usual in some discomfort.

A fairly standard week for us would see me leaving work between five to five thirty and heading to her shop. She would usually be wrapping up by the time that I got there, and because her apartment was only a ten minute walk from her shop, we usually walked home together. There was a small grocer on the way where we picked out that night's food, then went home and cooked it. Very domestic and simple.

She had a washer-dryer combo unit in her place, so most nights we also did at least one load of wash. I refused to do hers, not because I refused in general, but because her clothing was usually delicate enough that I had no idea what to do with it. She did have some basic clothing that I was permitted to wash, though. Then, depending on the night, we'd sit and watch television or maybe if we were feeling up to it, head out for another brief walk to a little bar that we both liked.

But that week for her was spent mostly on the couch, mostly under a soft throw, and mostly spent in discomfort. We talked and watched television and cuddled. Now it was never actually openly stated between the two of us, but on her down weeks, I put a pause of my own pleasure. It's not that I masturbated often, because quite frankly I had no need to. But cocks occasionally have a mind of their own, and if I found myself with an erection during one of those weeks, I did my best to ignore it. It was not a conscious thought nor was it something like that I was saving myself for her. I knew that she masturbated sometimes and she knew that I also did it sometimes, and it wasn't about fairness, either.

If I had to take a wild guess, and this is all that it was, it was simply that our living together brought our biological rhythms into some degree of parallelism. I'd long known that women living together would soon join their cycles, and so it seemed that I had adopted Jasmine's cycle for my own natural ebb and flow of sexual desires.

I knew that her cycle was nearing its end on Friday when I awoke with a raging hard-on that defied my desire to ignore it.

"Jeez, look at you," she said that morning as she flung the covers away to find my cock rigid. She looked at me. "Morning wood?"

"Yeah," I said, and grinned playfully before reaching down and giving it a little stroke for her.

"Feel good?" she asked, bemused.

"Not as good as you, but good enough," she said.

Her nose wrinkled again. "Tonight, okay?" she asked plaintively. She eyed my erection for a moment before returning eye contact to me. "Definitely tonight," she revised.

"Works for me," I said and hauled myself out of bed in the predawn darkness. I stretched, rising up on my tiptoes, my back to her.

"It's too bad that summer and shorts weather is coming," she commented idly.

I shook out my legs and arms from that stretch, and with relief saw my erection subside quickly. "Why's that?" I asked her.

"Because," she said while suddenly adopting her usual bedroom tone but with some sly notes added in, "I'd love to see you with silky shaved legs, that's why!"

I looked down at the hairs on my legs, and then looked at her with curiosity. "Why would you want that?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "A passing fancy?"

I looked down again. "I don't know," I said doubtfully. My legs remained fairly muscular and defined; there was a gym in my building that I hit daily for work. "I doubt that they'd look good without hair."

"I don't know," she said as she came over to me for a morning hug and rather chaste kiss. "But we might need to find out!" she told me with her usual playful nose boop. Her fingers moved to my chest, where I had a small patch of curly hair in the center of my chest. "This," she said as she tugged one and made me wince slightly in discomfort, "definitely needs to go."

"What?" I asked as my eyes darted from one spot to the next. "Why?"

"Because," she said, waving her arms openly around the room, "do you want me to go without shaving my armpits?" she asked. "This is a feminine bedroom, my dear. Maybe you need to conform!"

"Hah," I chuckled. "I sense a devious plot."

She grinned. "Sense away." She poked my chest. "Shave. Please?" she asked then, softly. She knew damn well that I had no defense against her puppy dog eyes. The eyes that I got. The eyes that melted any resolve that I might have.

"Fine," I said. "Fine. It's not like anyone will ever see my chest!"

"That's my baby," she giggled and patted my chest over my nipples, where a few strands of hair curled out. "These, too," she added, grabbing one and pulling suddenly.

"OW!" I said as she plucked the chest hair out from a sensitive spot.

"Wimp," she teased.

"Whatever," I laughed. Yet in the shower, I carefully drew my razor around my small nipples, and ensured that they were hairless as the rest of my chest and lower body when I emerged.

"Oh!" she said in surprise, gleeful surprise. "You shaved your pubes, too?"

"Why not?" I said. "I've been manscaping ever since you've met me," I added.

"Ooh sexy sexy," she said. "We have a big date for tonight, baby!" she promised me.

Evidently my shaving job was not quite up to par given how much I squirmed from itching that day at work. But it wasn't like I could share the reason for that mild, constant discomfort. "Jeez, I did a lousy job shaving my balls today," was not exactly a statement I could make in my office. But it amused me to think about it.

Later that night, she knelt over my body, her butt facing me so that she could toy with my cock and balls. "This was not the best shaving job," she told me. She reached over and grabbed her phone and then flopped down on the bed, face down, her feet pointed at the ceiling, and consulted the oracle of shopping - Amazon. "A ha!" she said, and showed me a hair removal cream.

"Oh!" I said, surprised. "Well, I suppose that we ought to give it a try, then," I said.

She giggled. After a long look back at my mostly bare pubic area, she made eye contact again. "That is sexy," she confirmed to me. "I like it."

"I figured you would." Jasmine had standing quarterly appointments at a laser hair removal place. They were expensive, so much so the first time I saw the cost I gagged. But it was a cost that she was determined to afford, and saved up the necessary money each month in order to maintain the look and feel on her body that she wanted.

"You don't want to do the lasers?" she asked me.

"Not unless other methods don't work first."

"Wax," she teased.

"Ouch," I replied.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Ouch."

Later, after she had enjoyed some orgasms and was slowly building me up to her first, she gave my cock a long, tongue-heavy licking. She lifted her mouth off of me, panting a little and then while maintaining a hold on my cock, moved to plant a long wet and tongue-heavy kiss on my lips. She smiled as she broke the kiss.

"Can I do something naughty tonight?" she asked me.

Before I could reply, she squeezed my cock. "Yeah!" I moaned just how she liked it.

"I want you to cum in my mouth," she told me. She then tapped her index finger against my lips. "And then I'm going to kiss you." This was announced in a tone best described as 'tart'.

I grinned. "Go for it!" I said, not really caring. I mean, it's hard to care about your girlfriend pulling a snowball when you've experienced the sensation of a man's orgasm in your mouth already.

I filled her mouth moments later, and then her kiss was wet and sloppy and messy and utterly delightful. She moaned and kept squeezing my wet cock urging more cum to ooze out until I squirmed under the sensation. She broke the kiss and saw my own cum smeared on my face and licked it up as I swallowed it. It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, and being fed by my girlfriend was rather enjoyable and sexy, I thought.

I was surprised when I stirred awake the following morning, alone in the bed. I sat up and looked around, and reached for my phone. She had sent me a text and had at some point in the middle of the night suddenly remembered that she had a big order to fulfill and since we did not have any major plans, she was going to spend the day in the shop working on that order.

I flopped back in bed. The morning wood and come and gone, so I tossed the covers aside and showered. It was a cold morning, a harbinger of the coming winter, so I dressed appropriately as I laced up my shoes for a walk. Once outside, the brisk air hit hard, and it was cold drawing a breath into my lungs. But I started walking and the steady movements soon warmed my body.

I had my earbuds in and dialed Jas. After exchanging greetings, I told her that I was out for a walk and that I was heading to her. I had nothing better to do that day, and I didn't like the idea of her being in her shop all alone, all day. I figured that I'd come and keep her company. And I would bring breakfast, I added. She sounded relieved at that, noting that she was famished.

I walked in with a half-dozen bagels, two types of cream cheese, some butter and two cups of steaming hot coffee. She was delighted and took a break to enjoy our nosh.

"So what are you going to do today?" she asked me. Her nose wrinkled. "I'm sorry but I'm going to be here all day," she said.

"Well, I can stick around and keep you company?" I suggested. "I don't have any plans."

"The guys aren't doing anything?" she asked me. I had a group of friends, six of us in total, that did a lot of things together. She liked all but one of them - and she didn't hate him but rather just barely tolerated him. She didn't trust him, but her reasons for that conclusion she had never shared. She was always careful to ask me that question, wanting to make sure that I got my guy-time.