Eye of the Beholder Ch. 08

Sharon was a vision, lying sprawled akimbo on the bed, one arm behind her head on the pillow, the other draped across her body with the fingertips combing gently through the curls above her labia. Her hair, looking like she was fresh from a fuck, fanned out over her breasts with the nipples poking through. She was watching me with eyes dreamy and semi-focused as I poured us fresh glasses of champagne, the last in the bottle. I handed one to her, though I hated to take her fingers away from their toying.

The scent of the lilacs was still in the air, but fainter as the evening had cooled. I had noticed earlier with a certain note of regret that they were nearing the end of their run. I'd miss them. I crossed and closed the window a little, then came up at the foot of the bed where one of her legs was extended, straight and oh-so-shapely. Lifting it, I kissed her instep softly, sucked in a toe for a second, gave her a soft, wet nibble in the hollow of her ankle, then slowly climbed onto the bed, lavishing attention on her leg as I did, no easy task with a glass of champagne in my hand.

My slurp on the inside of her knee drew a soft giggle, but when she pulled away from it she spread her thighs a bit more, which was just fine with me. The skin of her inner thigh was so soft, so inviting, so delicately scented with her own perfume. Lightly suckling my way up was another subtle extension of the delirium of this night. I had imagined it so many times that the reality could have been less than the imagination, but instead I became more lightheaded the closer I came to those smoothly shaved, slightly parted lips. I kissed them gently, just barely brushed her inner labia with my tongue, lifting away as she rose to meet me.

I lifted up on an elbow, took the glass and poured a tiny bit into her navel, my finger laid over the edge to direct the stream. The champagne had been out for a while, so it was not very cold, but her skin sprang up into small goosebumps anyway. I leaned in and sucked it out, playing my tongue around inside for just a second, then began a line of soft kisses, sucks and nibbles down the flat of her stomach. There's just something about the way those subtle curves beckon downward, that has always made my head spin.

And then, here I was again, nuzzling my way through that soft auburn forest toward those silky smooth lips, the musky scent of our lovemaking flooding my senses. I gave her a soft kiss and suckle on her clit—she arched slightly to meet it—then lifted up and directed the tiniest stream I could manage right above it, watching it trickle down over her before I bent to lick it up with a long lick. A huge sigh escaped her lips, and I looked up to see if she was watching the monitors, but to my surprise she was lying back with her eyes closed just enjoying it. Good.

I poured another small stream right onto her clit, again lowering my head to lick it away, slipping my tongue as deep between her lips as I could manage as I savored the taste, the bouquet, the feel of her wet and warm around my tongue. Again, imagination paled in comparison with the reality. Licking up in a long stroke, catching her clit from underneath, I drew it in, sucked it in deep, gave a soft swirl around it with my tongue, and another, and a pause and another. Her sharp intake of breath told me all I needed to know, her hips rising to push herself against my mouth. I flickered my tongue back and forth, sliding slowly up and down so the flicks ascended and descended her clit, then sucked it in hard and swirled several times while she writhed gently beneath me.

She was breathing harder now, not quite panting, but getting there quickly. I pressed harder with my tongue, flicking until she rocked up into it with a soft moan, sucking and swirling, nearly swooning from the taste of her and the ecstacy of hearing her moans now that my mouth was where it had longed to be for so long. She was getting closer now, so I lifted away just long enough to drain the champagne and toss the glass onto the chair, then took up where I had left off, my tongue now cool from the champagne. This drew a little gasp from her, but I warmed to the task quickly, swirling, flicking, sucking, occasionally barely nibbling as I ran a finger up and down the opening to her vagina, and down to tease her perineum.

She was moaning and grinding harder and harder, close to cumming. Dipping two fingers into her—deep moan—and drawing them out wet and slippery, I pressed my tongue down on her clit, rolling it, drawing one finger back to run in circles around her anus, slipping just the tip inside, then running the other in circles around the entrance to her vagina as she moaned and writhed and arched. She was panting hard, her moans rising toward her orgasm. Finally, as it spilled over her and out of her, I slowly slid my fingers deep inside both holes, pressing the one inside her vagina up to caress her G-spot while she screamed and thrashed with the strength of her climax. I could feel her clit pulsing in my mouth, the contractions hard on the finger up her ass.

She collapsed completely, which I didn't mind at all, the sign of a very pleasant task well done. I was rock hard again, but I really didn't need another orgasm. This had been for her, total attention with no distractions from the media controls. Her clit was still throbbing in my mouth, the slightest movement from my tongue bringing a soft moan, along with a gentle attempt to draw away, but I was aware of her sensitivity, and tailed off to let her lie there in the afterglow.

As I slid slowly up to lie next to her, she laid her arm outstretched on the bed so I could cuddle up to her, resting my head on one of those incomparable breasts. Within minutes we were both asleep.

Somewhere in the middle of the night I awoke from a dream of Sharon going down on me to find Sharon going down on me. She had obviously succeeded so far: that was not a dream erection in her mouth, though it still felt like a dream to me. Ah well, if so, so be it. I lay back against the pillow and enjoyed it, watching her as she slowly drove me crazy. She lifted her eyes to mine when she noticed I was awake, watching me to see my reactions to everything she did. She was as delicious lover to me as she was to herself, which was quite a compliment. She teased and swirled, licked and nibbled, engulfed me in long strokes until she felt me swelling in anticipation, then settled back out of the rhythm until she could safely play some more.

She kept me on the brink for longer than I would have imagined possible, then just as I was sure she was about to back off again, she swallowed me deep and cupped my balls in her hand with a gentle squeeze. I didn't even have a chance to warn her, but it was obvious she knew anyway. My orgasm was explosive, shattering, one of those that detonates at the center of your body and then spreads slowly in warm, electric ripples out to your fingers and toes. She sucked up every drop, finally looking up at me and smiling as if to say "Fair's fair, after all."

When I woke up in the morning, she was gone, a testament to how completely drained I was: I'm usually a pretty light sleeper. There was a note on the pillow that said:

GOD that was good!

Sharon

To Be Continued...