The more I saw him, the better the sex would get. I began to slowly offer him suggestions how he might be better able to make me cum. He began to slowly incorporate the ideas into our evenings together.
Every time I'd make a carefully framed and phrased suggestion and he not only accepted it but put it into action the more I shared. These days I have little of importance to say about his skills in bed because he's so capable of making me cum so easily.
I don't hesitate anymore to tell him how much I appreciate him, his body, his touch. I don't tell him how much I appreciate his mind, though I do. It's the one thing I keep to myself. I don't want him to know, though I'm sure he can tell. Without the words, without telling him how much he means to me he'll never really be sure. And I'll never have to face his rejection of me in that way.
Instead, I get to enjoy the taste and feel of his mouth on mine, this forever gentle hands sliding tenderly over my skin, treating me like someone delicate. His tongue on my clitoris, licking and sucking so I cum over and over. I get to feel the usually slow push of his long, thick, hard cock into my aching pussy.
His cock is so perfect, too. Uncut so when he thrusts into me there's the extra glide and without the friction-- a unique sensation I can't fake with a dildo. The thickness of it fills me just a little more than I'd have ever chosen for myself but suits me perfectly. The length pushing passed my cervix into the deepest part of my pussy. A feeling unlike anything I've felt before. It doesn't hurt at all, just massive pressure and pleasure.
Friday I left early to meet him so I could spend the extra hours in his bed. And I did, wrapped his arms, my mouth wrapped delightfully around his cock, his hands between my legs. Getting to spend so many hours-- 6? Delighting in the feel of his body against my own.
Jestin makes me feel everything I've ever dreamed of. Snuggling into his arms, having his breath on my neck is everything.
