Free Letting Go (Letting Go Series #1) by S.T. Prussing Page A

Damn, this is something I wish I could watch!
    The feeling of his hard, slippery cock sliding between my breasts is awesome. I push them even more tightly together, to give him more friction and to make him hit my sensitive nipples. His breathing begins coming in sharper and sharper gasps. My own breathing is mirroring his, even though I’m pretty much just lying here. This whole thing is driving me wild.
    Trying to picture what’s happening in my mind, an idea comes to me. I bend my neck forward and stick out my tongue. Every time he thrusts upward, his cock head hits my wet tongue. I’m not worried about taking the initiative without asking permission—he told me to get him slippery. If he says anything, I’ll just say I’m continuing to do as he ordered.
    He doesn’t say anything , though. He just keeps fucking my breasts.
    Finally, he gives an extra powerful thrust and lets out a loud groan. I feel his warm, slippery seed splash against my chin and neck. He thrusts more slowly now, four or five more times. With each thrust, I feel another stream of cum land on my skin. If the amount of it is any measure of his enjoyment, then he’s one happy guy.
    He moves back, sitting on my hips once again. This time, he’s letting a little more of his weight press down onto me, but still not enough to be uncomfortable.
    “You look incredibly sexy right now,” he says. 
    Huh? Sexy? That’s the last thing I expected to hear with his junk dripping all over me.
    “The blindfold, your chin and neck bathed in my cum, and that little satisfied smile on your face,” he continues.
    I hadn’t realized I was smiling, but I’m not surprised. I came here to please him, and obviously I ’ve succeeded.
    I feel his weight shift again. He kisses me tenderly on the forehead and then eases himself off me. The mattress rises underneath me and I realize he’s not only climbed off me, he’s climbed off the bed as well.
    I lay there, wondering what I’m supposed to do now. He hasn’t given me any instructions, so I don’t move.
    I hear water running in the bathroom. He must be cleaning himself off. What a bout me? I’m sure I’ve got a lot more cum on me than he does. I touch my chest with my fingers. The cum is beginning to turn sticky.
    The water shuts off. I expect to hear or at least sense him coming back to me, but instead I hear a drawer slide open and then closed across the room. Finally, he sits down on the bed beside me, down near my knees.
    “Take off your panties,” he commands.
    I guess he’s not here to help me clean off. I reach down and pull off my thong, bringing my legs up toward my chest so I can pull it over my ankles. I drop the thong onto the bed.
    “Open your legs,” he says.
    I dutifully spread my legs. Seconds pass with no sound from Sir. For the first time in a while, I’m feeling vulnerable and exposed. Why won’t he say something? Or do something? Waiting like this, with my most private parts spread open before him, is torture.
    How long this goes on, I’m not sure. It feels like many minutes, but it’s probably only a minute or two at most. I know he’s doing this on purpose, building the suspense, and it’s definitely working. There’s nothing going on—I’m lying here perfectly still—yet my heart rate is climbing.
    Finally, he moves, positioning himself between my legs with his knees pressed against the inside of my knees. I couldn’t close my legs now even if I wanted to.
    A low hum breaks the silence. It takes me a moment to identify the sound. I think he’s just turned on a vibrator. At least, I hope it’s a vibrator, because it could also be an electric shaver. My first guess is confirmed when he touches it to the inside of my thigh.
    Sir is in no hurry. He takes his time, running the vibrator slowly up and down the inside of my right thigh and then my left. A pleasant tingling sensation begins to radiate through my groin. The feeling intensifies when he begins touching the vibrator