Please Don't, Stop! - I Mean, Please Don't Stop!

by harry lime

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Humiliation, Spanking, White Male, Oriental Female, Anal Sex, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Petting, Squirting, Voyeurism, Water Sports, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Tango for two in the dark corners of the human experience.

“That’s it, right there. Do my clit with your wonderful tongue!”

I adjusted my angle of licking to tickle the protruding folds of her delicious trigger and looked up to see her astounding full melons swollen with passion and her nipples sticking out like little buttons waiting for the right fingers to show them the way to satisfaction.

Actually, this was a bit more than I had bargained for thinking that the girl was just pulling my leg and couldn’t possibly see anything desirable in a wreck of a human being so far down the highway of life that age in triple digits was a distinct possibility.

Suddenly, I had a fear that this fabulous gourmet treat fallen into my lap would ask me my age and I didn’t know with any degree of certainty, if I should tell the truth or lie like a dirty dog hoping to keep her handy for future use in games of dangerous pleasures.

She was all orders now.

Telling me exactly where to lick and how hard to push my tongue into her cave of secret delights. In all honesty, it was quite attuned to my own private thoughts that I wondered if she was clairvoyant and able to read my kinky mind.

She told me her name and I frantically attempted to store it in my permanent retention file for future use. It was a strange name and I had repeated it several times and each time she smiled and told me.

“That’s it!”

The petite young thing pushed her wonderful backside into my submissive face and I gave her my best performance with tongue and lips I was able to muster with my head moving constantly in every direction to increase her sensation of being humped by a macho man with no inclination to show mercy to her tormented flesh. The smooth surface of her perfect skin was like a magnet for my inquisitive mouth and I nibbled and sucked with the abandon of a small child in a candy factory. I knew when I was leaving the fruity ripeness of her feminine folds and moving into the funky foothills of her twin globes of rear door perfection. She stirred with the reaction of a sentinel not wanting to give up the secrets of her sacred treasure too quickly to the barbarian hordes of masculine desire. It was an easy task to sense her underlying need to be explored in a way that underscored her base instincts to get down and dirty in the arms of a complete stranger. We both knew it absolved us from any recital of insincere promises releasing our coupling from the tiring emotions of binding love and devotion. I pressed into her soft posterior flesh with full altruistic need to give her kinky inner core the respite it needed in a vaginal focused world. She shuddered on the point of my tongue and melted in my grasp like ice cream facing the inevitability of summer heat wearing down the circled wagons of her consummate final line of defense against anal invaders of her secret garden. I could see her fingers busy with her sensitive nipples and realized she was merely prolonging the moment leading up to her explosion of female release. I quickly moved back to her greedy clit knowing with the benefit of years of experience that was where she needed it the most and she responded by hugging my head with both hands and whispering words in her native language that most textbooks were unable to translate.

She moaned with joy and some frustration.

I wished my tongue was longer and that she would allow my fingers probing her rear channel to continue a scouting raid into her mysterious back door. I sensed she was not in the least opposed to such kinky moves from the way she reached back and pulled one cheek aside to give me a little more purchase inside her tiny opening.

This girl had a sublimely beautiful face with cheekbones that a photographer would give a left nut to shoot over and over again like it was an obsession worse than any addiction.

It was obvious that she had plenty of practice in giving men a taste of her fantastic treats. She was not stingy in sharing her delights and the wonderful wetness between her legs attested to the fact she was in a state of complete arousal. It was a reality that is impossible to create a pretense about to fool silly men into giving her a “big tip” for creative carnal relations.

The perfection of her body was matched full measure by the beauty of her face. Sure, she had her cosmetics on with expert artistry but I could tell that she was one of those rare creatures that looked equally as delectable without any make-up at all.

Suddenly she pushed me up and away and I thought she might have a cramp.

When she put the pillow under her head and opened her knees wide for my insertion, I knew that she wanted me to spear her with missionary zeal. Fortunately, I was in a state between semi-erection and full attention but I knew it was now or never. The generational differences never seemed wider at that moment of truth. She was reciting something in her language that sounded almost musical in the way she hummed it in my joyous ear. I wanted to shout out,

“Houston, we have a problem!”

My forward progress was slowed because her opening was a bit too tight and even with the overflow of natural lubrication all over the area of operations; I was unable to make a landing on the beach of love. Fortunately, she was more determined than shy and she grabbed most of my almost hard business and shoved me up inside her ready folds like a meat packer stuffing a bird.

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