His nipple rings were something I craved a taste of, wanting to touch them. While we’ve fucked several times so far on tour, he hadn’t given me a single moment of where I could let loose.
I craved that, the maddening itch inside me begging to explore him.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he murmured, and times like these I felt like a whore, someone who drenched him by the mere thought of his hands and cock.
He called me that on several occasions, making me squirm with anticipation. I loved that he called me names, that he used objects to defile me.
“You know, I’m going to play the show this weekend with the pick your cum is all over,” he mocked. “Do you think the others would think you’re such a dirty girl if I told them it’s covered in you?”
I shuddered, thinking of them knowing how wet I got for him. How he barely flicked over me a few times and I nearly fell apart.
“They’d probably want a taste of you if I told them how much you enjoy pain.”
He degraded me in a way that fractured my view of myself. I loved feeling him inside me, pressing against my inner walls with practiced hands. His mouth licked my nipples with purpose, barely brushing my skin with the lightest of touches.
He knew he tore me apart with his slow but purposeful flicks, but he didn’t stop. Part of me didn’t want him to. Experiencing the throb between my thighs as he took his time was worth the prolonged ache.
Wetness continued to pool as he spread me open, he licked down my body devouring me with everything he had to offer.
He laved at my clit a few times, the knife his conduit as he watched me writhe. Every time I got close to coming, he stopped. He would lick toward my hole, teasing me without giving in while using the back of his knife to get me off.
“You want my knife, little demon?” I nodded almost frantically, watching as he darted his tongue across my clit. There was something so primal about a man between your legs, eating your pussy while you watched.
He made sure his eyes didn’t stray from mine, keeping our gazes locked while he directly hit every sensitive nerve.
“I’ll give you my cock if you come on my knife,” he offered, winking when I gasped at the pressure on my clit. He entered me with his stiletto handle, the sloppy sound of it inside my wet heat embarrassed me.
“So wet for my blade. It’s like you need me to plug you up, keep this wetness between your thighs.”
“Please,” I whimpered, wanting him so badly. The edging he constantly did was torture, but not knowing what it was like with him inside me when I could freely touch him was something I wanted.
“Come for me, little demon.”
And I did.
I squeezed the knife as he thrust it inside me slowly, he spit on my clit, then used it to rub the rest of my orgasm out of me.
The tingling warmed at my toes, racing up my thighs, and finally erupted at my clit, making me choke on air. The heat enflamed me as he kept rubbing, pushing me over the edge. My clit almost tickled as he kept his pace and sucked me harder.
I cried out, wanting him to stop but not able to form the words. When the feeling of liquid leaking from me hit, I knew I’d squirted again.
Exhaustion settled in my body, overwhelming me until I felt out of breath. I’d never squirted before Madden, and it seemed no man even tried making me come as hard as Madden had either.
“Such a good little whore. Wetting the bed for me, I’ll have to clean your mess off these sheets later.”
He licked at the wetness, and the sensitive parts of me wanted a break but the horny person inside of me that hadn’t come that hard, ever, she didn’t want him to stop.
By the time he finished, he rose up my body, kissing my thighs, hips, and nipples. I whimpered when he traced his tongue over the raised flesh of me. He took his time with everything, like when he tattooed, making sure no line suffered from rushing.
He traced me like a rough draft drawing, continuing until he had perfection.
Madden
It was my turn.
I wanted her to touch me.
Wanted her to take control.
In all my sexual experiences, I didn’t allow people to touch me. It always seemed too intimate, and with the brushes of Andy’s fingertips, I knew why.
With every skim of her skin, I felt connected to her. She brandished herself on me, tattooing my already inked skin with her own specific brand. Somehow, she wrote lyrics to a song only we knew, digging deeper than I ever allowed because I needed her to need me.
“I’m scared,” she finally admitted, her eyes searching mine for answers unknown. “I want to explore all of you, but I know you have boundaries.”
Halting her, I gripped her wrist, bringing the inner part to my mouth. Nipping, then licking it, I grabbed her attention. “I need you to fuck me with your touch, Andy.”
She let out a harsh breath, her eyes dilating and her hips wiggling above me. I’d laid back on the bed, allowing her full access to my body.
Uncertainty answered back to me. Her eyes were big, begging, but also intimidated. “Take all the time you need,” I directed, seeing her light up with the direction.
My woman needed more than simple words and commands. She needed the control taken, supplied only by me.
Her hands traced up my chest, flicking over my hardened nipples, all while her eyes warily watched me. She did this since the beginning of our time together. Faltering when her skin came too close. She respected my body for months, only supplying what I wished for.
She rarely complained, but I could tell keeping this part of me from her made her insecure. “I’ve never let anyone touch me like this,” I admitted, showing the softer side of me that seemed weak at times. “I’ve never wanted anyone this close.”
She blinked back tears, her face morphing into one of understanding. “I just want to do this right,” she admitted, gnawing on her bottom lip.
Reaching forward, I wiped the apple of her cheek, catching tears before they crested. “You being here, with me, choosing us, that’s the only right that matters.” I leaned forward, licking her sadness away. “Do you need me to guide you?”
She nodded softly, her face going through more emotions than I was capable of. “Please.”
I kissed her nose and then her mouth, parting her lips with my tongue. She tasted me, licking across my piercing with a shiver. “I’ll never get used to that,” she said as we parted.
Her eyes went down my body, stopping on my tattoos. They lit up like she’d forgotten I had them. She lowered, making sure to kiss them as if memorizing them with her mouth.
I groaned when she wrapped her lips around my nipple a moment later. I’d gotten off loads of times and not once did I ever think to get into nipple play. But as she sucked and bit me, tugging on my barbells, my body felt too wound tight.
“Fuck, you’ve always been good with your mouth.” The praise had her wiggling on my lap. “Fuck, you’ve got to stop doing that. Just that little movement will have me coming like a fucking high schooler.”
She giggled, biting my neck as she ground against me some more.
“Your stamina is insane, you’ve made me orgasm tons tonight and still haven’t fucked me.”
“Edging is my favorite part,” I mused, allowing her to grind herself over me. She moaned, hitting her clit on my piercings.