EroticReverie

Saint

The seconds she speaks those two little words, "taste me". My chest rumbles, my lips vibrating with a groan, as my eyes drop from her face and the shocked surprise of her eyes. A small grin on my lips as my little ballerina gives in. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say. Maybe that's why my Little Ballerina's soft, pink pussy, is drenched in need. Her fondness...fucking dripping, before I even taste her. 

I would take my time with her. Unlike they way that I had, the night she was drunk and I'd snuck into her bedroom, and removed her panties and licked her gorgeous cunt while her inhebrited body writhed and her sweet little mouth whimpered and moaned for more. She might not remember that night, but she would remember this one. I'd make sure she'd never forget. 

I exhale over her pussy, my hands gently spreading her at the tops of her thighs, my hands placed firmly around her inner thighs, fingers digging gently into the tops of them , thumbs stroking the underside of her thighs as I just look at her. My eyes going from the swollen clit and dripping cunt before me, up to her stomach, to the way each breath she takes makes it cave in, hollowing her out with her desperate breaths, her flat stomach sinking in ward, forming to her ribcage, outlining it as her chest heaves and her gorgeous tits and those hard, delicious nipples , pointing into the air. My mouth salivates, almost wanting to slide back up and taste them again. To feel her sweet nipples against my tongue, to be closer to the sound of that voice whimpering and her sweet little gasps as I'd sucked her flesh into my mouth, as I'd licked them, and kissed them, took them between my teeth. Oh, she'd liked that. My little ballerina had loved that pinch of pain, the tug of my teeth on her sensitive skin. 

But no, there would be time for more of her gorgeous breasts , later. Right now, she'd told me to taste her. And taste her, is what I intend to do. I won't make her regret telling me to taste her, won't make her regret giving into that little part of her that knows this is meant to be. That's she's mine, that her body wants this, that she wants this. 

I'd lick away her shame of wanting a "psycho" between her legs, making her cum. I'd suck on her clit till every bit of her stubborn little mind was wiped of all those reservations and societal morals that were keeping her from loving me back. I'd make her mine tonight. I'd make my Little Ballerina need me, love me. 

"Come here Little Ballerina" I groan as I watch her muscles clench between her legs, her pussy pulsing. She needs this more than she can ever admit. Needs me. I slip myself closer and kiss her pussy. Right over her clit, right where the pretty slit of her pussy begins and she gasps, body trembling. My god, she's exquisite. 

I want to lick and kiss all over her gorgeous pussy, tease her and make her out of her mind with desperation for my tongue on her sensitive little clit that I'd made throb by grinding her on my lap, and pressing myself against her as I'd hovered over her before removing her clothes. But I can't wait, and neither can she. My little ballerina needs me more than ever. 

I let my tongue fall right below her clit and lay my tongue against her, licking slowly, gently up over her pretty clit. The trembling of her legs makes me groan, her reaction to the single movement of my tongue over her sensitive flesh, makes me so fucking happy, so fucking hard, and so fucking in love. I do it again, groaning as she gasps and her head goes back and I smirk to myself, my eyes lifting, her arms at her side, elbows bent, her tiny hands clenched into fists near her shoulders as she whimpers with my next slow lick of my tongue. I enjoyed her response, enjoyed those hands unsure of where to put themselves as she let the man she deemed a "psycho" taste her perfect fucking pussy. 

I lick her slowly, so fucking slowly, watching her face as her mouth parts with each gasp, her teeth sinking into her lower lip with her whimpers and satisfied moans. I watch each different sign of pleasure cross her face, listen to each sound of pleasure as they rotate. Little sucks of air through her teeth, or full little gasps, the soft little moans, the little whimpers that are somewhere between pleasure and frustration. I  know she doesn't want it to feel good. Know she wishes she didn't love the way my tongue feels on her. But she does. My little ballerina, loves every, single, fucking, second of what I'm doing to her. As she should. 

My hands slip under her thighs, up along her sides and over her breasts as I keep tonguing her clit lovingly. Stroking her throbbing little clit with my tongue , softly and slowly. She shivers, limbs shaking as she looks down at me, finally. Those pretty eyes on me, she whimpers loudly as I smile up at her. Pressing a soft kiss to her clit, my hands holding her beautiful breasts. I loved how they fit in my palms. All of her fit so well in my hands. Anyplace I put my hand, they molded to her just so, so fucking perfectly. My hands on her body was art. She is art. My perfect living portrait of the most precious thing I'd ever see in my life. 

"You're so fucking beautiful Little Ballerina" I tell her , my hands sliding over her breasts and to the sides of them, i let my thumbs and pointer fingers, scoop them from the beneath and the sides as I push them gently together, and then slip my thumbs up from under the curve of her breast, and over those sweet fucking nipples. Stroking them with my thumbs, as I stroke her clit with my tongue, groaning as she watches my hands, her balled fists still at her shoulders, panting as she trails her eyes back to where my face is between her legs. 

"Am I making you feel good Little Ballerina?" I ask her and she whimpers.

"answer me Anastasia" I say after a few moments. She whimpers, her brows pinching. Her angry little scowl making me groan. 

"you know you are" she answers stubbornly. "why are you asking?" she whimpers and I grin and lick her clit, letting thumb and pointer fingers, pinch those nipples of hers, making her squeak slightly and let out a pleasured cry as her head goes back again and her hands....her fucking balled up little fists uncurl and slap over my hands. I groan louder and kiss her clit. Letting my tongue lick between each kiss, making out with her impossibly horny little pussy as she squeezes her fingers around the sides of my hands and gasps. I groan as she squeezes my hands harder as they lay over her breasts, massaging and squeezing them as I lick her faster, faster. Her little fucking pussy pushes against my mouth and I growl against her clit. My tongue losing it's focus and going wild against her clit. Licking this way, that way, down to her cunt, and over it, lapping up her arousal , licking her where my cock belongs , slipping it inside. Letting her horny little cunt ride my tongue as she bucks and curses. Oh, my little ballerina was simply losing it now. She wasn't in control at all, she'd given herself over to me. My little ballerina was making love to my mouth with her sweet as fuck little pussy. Her hips lifting, crashing her soft pussy against my mouth, her wetness soaking my mouth, my chin, my tongue sliding from her cunt and back to her clit. My lips kissing before they suck. Her scream shatters the room as she feels the pressure and pull of my lips , sucking at her clit. 

That's right Little Ballerina, cum for me. Cum for me. 

Miles didn't do this, did he? Ben could never make you feel this way. No man can do for you what I can Little Ballerina, my thoughts growling inside of my head as I claim her orgasm. Growling as Anastasia comes undone. 

If I thought she was beautiful when she came for me that night in her bed when she'd been drinking. This, this was so fucking breathtaking. To watch her like this. To feel her soak my mouth, as she cries out. And she doesnt just cry out with a moan, or a pleasured cry. 

No. My little ballerina, calls my fucking name.