Language of Love Ch. 01

"Sperm, please!" she demanded. Marc placed the shirt between them, careful, as before, not to spill any along the way. She placed her lips directly on the patch of cum, and noisily siphoned up the sticky mass. Her blue eyes were locked on his the entire time, and as she perceived how excited her lewd act made him, goosebumps suffused her body, radiating from her belly in waves of pleasure.

"Again?" she said.

"I think my cock'll fall off if I don't give it a rest," Marc admitted.

Elora washed out her mouth with water. "Mind if I go?" she asked.

"Be my guest!" Marc said, then wrapped his hands, now conveniently free, around the back of her head, and began making out with her with every ounce of his passion. He did not break off, even as Elora came thrice more.

At the apogee of her final climax, Elora pulled her head back and exclaimed, "Fuck! I want you inside me, Marc!" Marc groaned in pleasure. "I want your cock in my pussy, in my ass, down my fuckin' throat!" she continued. Marc grabbed the unfortunate shirt and stuffed it down his bag and around his cock. He stroked himself furiously, inflamed by her dirty talk, and soon came for a third time.

"Shit!" he said, uncreatively. He moaned involuntarily, from pain as much as pleasure. His aching member was not ready to ejaculate again, but his cousin had sent him over the edge with her dirty talk.

After eating his cum again, she rolled up the shirt and stuffed back it into the side pocket where she'd gotten it from.