A Taste of What’s to Come Part 2
Introduction:
A lot can change in a few weeks…
We said no words. I took off my pants and exposed the throbbing erection I had been sporting all the way en route to her house. Her eyes widened and she smiled. She walked a few steps to her left and laid on her back against the soft carpet steps that lead upstairs. That same little smirk appeared on her face.
Again, no words. She just looked at me, and opened her mouth wide, making a seductively sexy popping noise as she smacked her lips open. I took the same few steps to the stairs and plunged the entirety of my hard cock deep into her throat. As she laid on the carpet stairs, hands on both of my hips, I thrusted in and out, in and out of her salivating esophagus, my balls slapping against her chin. The only noise in the whole house was the sloppy wet sound of my cock dipping into the deepness of her throat. She muffled a moan and it turned me on even more, so I did a few fast thrusts, fucking her face hard. I pulled out and she gasped for air.
“Hi,” she finally said, after catching her breath.
“Hey beautiful. You finish the Trig?” I asked. I started to walk to the dining room table so we could start our actual tutoring session. But Ananya cutely whimpered like a puppy, so I quickly ran back to where she was on the stairs and greeted her smiling mouth with a few more quick thrusts into the back of her throat. She got up and gave me a kiss.
Forty-five minutes later, the Trig work was done, and Ananya and I had an extra hour before I had to leave.
“You hungry?” I asked her.
Ananya’s hazel eyes were in a dream state these days when she looked at me. A haze of hazel. And as the haze cleared, the hazel spoke in the soft way she always did.
“I could really go for a popsicle,” she said to me.
Before she even finished saying the word popsicle my cock had engorged and was in a pushing battle with my jeans zipper. And we weren’t talking about frozen fruit on a fucking stick!
“Hmm, I wonder what the flavor is today,” I said.
Ananya jumped up and grabbed me by the arm. “Ohhh, let’s please please find out right the fuck now, ok?” She started to drag me up the stairs.
And so there we were, completely naked on her bed. Ananya laid on her side and I spooned up behind her. There was something about this girl. Fuck, I mean I know she and I had become total fuck buddies in this super taboo, super secretive, something out of a frickin’ impossible-porn-movie situation. But as I scooted my pulsating penis up against her bubbly Indian ass, I had a million butterflies. Radioactive butterflies. Maniacal. Spawned in some dark alley lab of a psychopathic lepidopterist. It was hard to believe what she brought out of me.
I lifted Ananya’s right ass cheek and exposed that nice brown butthole that I had only started eating a few weeks before. She was dripping wet, and so with an easy swipe of her pussy juices with my cock, I comfortably slid into her incredibly warm ass. One single dip. I pulled out and had my cock covered in a coat of her wonderful ass juices.
She moaned on that thrust, and turned her head to see what had come out. “Oh god, so good. What flavor is it today?” she asked.
I got off the bed and walked around to her side, my untouched cock still covered in those juices.
She leaned close to my member. “Mmmmm, sea salt caramel,” she said with a giggle.
“Ready for your popsicle Ananya?” I asked.
She looked up at me with innocent schoolgirl eyes and cutely nodded. Another pop of her lips and her mouth was wide open. I eased that ass juice covered cock of mine into her mouth. But I didn’t thrust. She wouldn’t want me to. And Ananya was happy to receive it that way, as she proceeded to suck every drop off her juices off of my cock. She licked her lips and swirled her tongue around her gums. She swallowed and made a sigh of relief.
“Oh god,” she whimpered. “It’s so fucking tasty. Why is it so good?”
“Do you want–“
“YES! More more more, please baby, please,” she groaned.
I skipped around the bed and back to where I was. One more dip. Just one. Back around again, and back into her mouth.
“God I love popsicles,” she said. She started to lick her lips again and noticed the way that I was looking at her.
She laughed. “Oh, where are my manners?” She laughed some more. “Want to share?” she asked.
I smiled and leaned next to her onto the bed. We started to make out, swirling the juices from her ass and my cock around and around. It was a nearly indescribable taste. After wanting it so bad, after fantasizing about it day after day after day, and after having become so familiar with it, I loved the taste of her tangy Indian ass so much. So intimate, musky, complex and intoxicating. And I was the only one who knew her this way. No one else could say that. Maybe a friend could figure out what gift to give her on her birthday. But it felt empowering knowing that I’ve repeatedly experienced the unmistakable taste of her sexy ass juices, and that she’d be willing to share that with me.
I lost my patience. I reached over and stuck a finger in her ass. I pulled it out quickly and sucked my finger dry. Then I did it again. And again. And I gave some to Ananya too. Soon the room was filled with the sound of an assembly line rhythm of finger plunging and finger sucking. An occasional moan. And a waft of ass permeating her bedroom.
There we were, exhausted and entirely satisfied, soaking in the warm spring day. The sunlight seeped through the partially closed blinds, and we laid there enjoying each other’s silence. It was all so peaceful, until a sound all too familiar to Ananya caught her ear and widened her eyes.
“Shit. My mom’s car,” she said.
To be continued…
