To all the readers thus far, most especially to those who take the time to offer feedback, either personally or on the public forum, I extend my deepest and most sincere thanks.
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His body is an odd contradiction of sensations and he's not sure how to unite himself. On one part he is deliciously relaxed and sated. His body being cared for by the most extraordinary woman, currently somewhere in the vicinity of his feet. She has offered him release from the pressures of the day through a change of attire and the massage of his feet. She has fed his mind by taking away the distractions of sight limiting him to experience the sounds and smells of his environment. And most recently relieved the portion of his body requiring food of it's demanding hunger.
Now he is left with his desire for her. His eyes strain to see beyond the blindfold. To rest upon the gentle beauty of her face. The lushness of her body. His hands and lips itch to bury themselves in long soft curls and smooth, soft flesh without the possibility of deterrent. He wants to taste her fully. Not just the heaven of her mouth and the bliss that is found suckling at her breast, but the unique flavor that is her and comes to him from the height of her pleasure.
It is these final thoughts of his mouth buried in her pussy lapping at her release that are interrupted by a sudden and unknown sensation on his cock. It feels as if she is pressed between his legs as he can feel her breasts pressing against his inner thighs and balls. His knees are just in the curve of her waist and his legs slide along her hips. His toes seem to play with hers without any guidance from him. All this is noticed in barely a second as his attention is strongly brought back to the one portion of his body that demands she pay attention to it NOW!
Her left hand has brought him forward and is supporting this supplication to the sky at the base. Her thumb is lightly rubbing circles. Up a little along the base, down over his balls. Up and down. As good as this feels his attention is on the other end of his cock. There is something warm and slightly wet resting on his tip. It most definitely is NOT her mouth.
A small trickle of the wetness starts to slide down him. Ever so lightly he feels it... the tip of her tongue. It catches that small bit of liquid and traces it's path back up. His cock quivers in anticipation of what is to come. Up, up, up, so excruciatingly slow so that he could cry out from frustration. Her tongue goes back down and becomes wider. Long strokes up remove any remaining traces of that escaped liquid and all traces of her earlier release. Several more strokes and he knows he is perfectly clean.
Suddenly, the pointed tip of her tongue returns replacing the flat licking to trace the large vein along the bottom of his cock. All the way to the top her little tongue dances a path along him. "Oh God," he moans as she traces the outline of his head, around the object still resting on top. She loves to do that. Use the tip of her tongue firmly to trace his "storm trooper helmet," as she calls it. Normally she would delve into him seeking out his precum droplet, but not this time. This time there is a shrimp in the way. He assumes it is a shrimp.