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“Oh, God—”

“You look so hot from here,” he says. “I can see your pussy and your tits and your face. Come down.”

“Joe—”

His hands dig into my thighs and push me down. “More. You’re not going to hurt me.”

I moan as I lower myself onto his tongue, and I swear he puts my whole mound in his mouth and sucks. It’s so fucking much, like electricity shooting from my clit up my spine, then he licks with long, hard strokes, and nibbles on the inner labia, sucks on the clit, and manages to sneak two fingers into my pussy from behind, and I swear it takes me less than a minute to get close to coming—

—when he pulls the fingers out of my very soaked pussy and slowly starts circling my ass.

“Joe, what—”

“Just relax, okay?” he says and intensifies his licking and sucking, as he slowly increases the pressure on my ass. “Don’t worry, we’re just playing a little,” he says. “We’ll use that cute little plug of yours, that’s all.”

I relax, because that does seem doable.

He licks and sucks my pussy and pop! He is up my backside to his first knuckle. It doesn’t hurt or feel bad at all. It’s weird more than anything, the kind of weird that’s a bit disorienting and not necessarily sexy as it reminds me of going to the bathroom. But he slowly twists and pushes his finger and I relax around it until the pressure does seem to register near the front of my pussy in a more recognizably erotic way.

I close my eyes and give into it. He keeps the pressure from the inside with one long finger and keeps licking and sucking, my hips rocking slightly back and forth, the friction of his beard on my thighs just adding to the sensation, and the whole thing is so hot in an unfiltered, primitive way, I just let myself block out everything but how I’m feeling, let my body amplify every sensation, and before I know it I am at the edge again, it takes me completely by surprise, and I lean forward into Joe’s face, onto my hands that press against the wall, and he pushes against my insides and sucks hard on my clit and I feel my womb clench so tight it’s the size of grape, and then it bursts, explodes, the full-body release of pressure, of pleasure, it tears through me, obliterates all in its path.

It leaves me breathless. So breathless.

And racing, all over. My mind. My heart.

It takes a long time to come down. Or maybe not. I cannot tell.

Eventually, I lift myself off Joe’s face, and I swear I’ve never seen a person look this pleased in my life. His beard is completely drenched and that fantastic smile that knocked me off my feet when I first met him is shining full force, blinding bright and filled with pride and affection, and I feel a very different type of full-body clench at the sight, one that originates deep in my chest.

Joe grabs me by the waist and throws me on my stomach in the middle of the bed. “Don’t move,” he says.

He gets up swiftly, as I prop myself just a little off the bed, panting, trying to catch my breath while also tracking what he does.

He picks up his belt off the floor and puts it on the nightstand.

“We’re gonna do that now?” I ask.

“No time like the present,” he says. “Also, I kept dreaming about it all night.” Then he turns to me, concerned. “Unless you don’t want to. If you don’t want to, just say the word.”

“You know, why the hell not?” I say. “Seems like you have a plan, and it’s been working out really well for me so far.”

“Oh, I’m gonna make it so good for you,” he mutters. That disarming grin is back again. “Just stay there.” He runs to the bathroom. I hear the faucet and smile at the thought of him washing his hands.

He’s back quickly. He repositions me so my head is where it would normally be while we’re sleeping, close to the wall. He grabs a second pillow, the one where he slept, and stuffs it beneath my hips, raising my ass into the air. Then he grabs my wrists and ties them with his belt behind my back. The hold is not tight and I could probably wiggle out of it without too much difficulty, but I relax and let him do this.

“You look so damn hot, you have no idea,” he says thickly, one hand stroking my sides and my back.

It’s a very vulnerable position. “I wish I could see your face,” I say. He leans over me and kisses my cheek, my jaw, the corner of my mouth, my temple, all on the side of my face that he can reach.

“I’m right here,” he says. “Right here.”

He gets up again and I hear him rummage through my nightstand drawer.

I hear some ripping and tearing and grunting. I take it he’s managed to open the butt-plug container.

Then I hear a squirt and something coated in cold lube nudging at my ass.

“Joe, what—”