Your cock, my mouth

This is a story about your cock, I think. About the way I sometimes enjoy thinking about it. Sometimes when I’m sitting on a low stool and know my mouth would be at just the right height. But more than that, everything before. How I place my hands on your trousers, can feel your cock pushing towards me, like it enjoys being touched, wants more.

I can understand that, that’s sometimes how I feel, pushing towards it, wanting more. Pulling your trousers off, removing your underwear, touching it. Wrapping my hand around your cock, not hard, not yet, but enveloping it, so you can feel the warmth of my hand around you. I’ll stroke it a little, then, with a few fingers. Tease you, run a finger over the head, pull down your foreskin. The softness there is one of the most tender things I know, along with the inside of your lips.

I will bend my head forward, stick my tongue out, touch the head of your cock. Feel the weight of it on my tongue, the soft skin, the warmth. All of it. You’re so beautiful like this, waiting, enjoying. I’ll put my mouth around the head, use my tongue to stroke a little, one of my hands around the base, or touching your balls.

My mouth is full of spit, and I think this is what they mean when they say mouthwateringly good, the way I’ll wet my lips to glide easier on your shaft. Changing between motion and vacuum. A mouth on your balls, if you want, a hand there, for sure. I’ll relax after a while, mostly because I want to loosen my grip. I enjoy feeling the way your cock moves by itself, how it’s aching, jerking for more. I love that moment, the power. Your sigh when I lean back down and open my mouth, take you in.

I like feeling you in my cunt, but some days, it’s almost enough just to feel you in my mouth.