“Fifteen Minutes”
A friend asked me to describe an ideal scene if I only had 15 minutes from the time I opened the door until a playmate had to leave.
I'm at the door.
The feeling of butterflies in my stomach reaches a new intensity when I see her message. My palms sweat and the tension I feel throughout my body has my legs trembling like I just did 100 squats. It doesn't matter that we've done this many times before—each time is like the first when she arrives.
I hurry out to the living room, where I stand before the front door. I take a deep breath and try my best to calm my nerves.
In.
And out.
My hand grasps the door's handle, and I push it down while pulling the door toward me.
There she is, standing in the doorway. A playful smile flashes across her face when she sees me, and then she steps past and into the house. She knows what I want. Without a word, she makes her way to my bedroom. I shut the front door and follow closely, shutting the bedroom door behind us. She puts her things down near the bed, then turns toward me and begins to strip off her clothes.
I'm entranced, but I somehow manage the presence of mind to pull off my own shirt and to undue my pants. I bite my lip as, now totally nude, she kneels before me. Without instruction, she reaches up to finish opening my pants. She pulls down, and my cock—already stiffening with a rush of lustful blood—springs out of my pants. She puts her hands on my waist and takes me into her mouth.
A quiet groan escapes my lips as her warm tongue plays over the sensitive tip of my dick. With long, slow motions she works my cock in and out of her mouth.
In.
And out.
“Fuck,” I whisper breathlessly. Already, I can feel the buildup of warmth and pressure at the base of my shaft that signals an impending orgasm.
Too soon.
I don't want to cum yet. If I do, I'll be useless for fucking for the next half hour or so.
“Fuck,” I breathe, this time a bit louder. As she pulls my cock out of her mouth once more, I reach down and cup the back of her neck with my right hand. With gentle pressure, I start pulling her up to her feet.
“That's enough,” I say quietly, through almost clenched teeth. “Lay back on the bed. I'm hungry for you.” And I mean it. I've been looking forward to running my tongue over and into her sex all morning.
She lays back just as I've told her to, and she spreads her legs in welcome. I kneel at the side of the bed and take a moment to admire her slick, swollen labia. I brush the tips of my right-hand fingers against her pussy, and I feel a surge of excitement as my hand picks up the slightest tremble of her body. She wants me.
I lean forward and kiss the inside of her left thigh. She moans and spreads her legs even wider. I kiss the inside of her right thigh, then I lick her lips, a quick dart of the tongue to start. She moans again, and that's all the encouragement I need. I put my mouth on her lips and I probe her clitoris with my tongue.
The next couple of minutes are a blur of licking, kissing, probing, and massaging. At some point, I slide a finger inside her while I caress her clit with my tongue.
“I'm going to cum, Master.”
Her voice is small and breathless, as though she stands in awe before the brutal power of a tsunami before the wave breaks against the shore. She moans and squirms under the increasing pressure of her climax, and then she cums with a wordless shout of pleasure. Her pussy contracts around my finger, pulling it in farther, and her legs squeeze around my head.
I ignore the slight discomfort and continue to press my tongue against her clit in rhythmic waves until, after a short time that seems to stretch into infinity, I feel her body uncoiling from her orgasm. I ease up on the intensity of my tongue and lips, now lightly brushing against the sensitive folds of her womanhood rather than greedily eating her out as I was during her orgasm. With a few last, longing kisses to the inside of her thighs, I pull my head back and slide my finger out of her.
Her labia are even more swollen now. Gorgeous. I'm tempted to just keep going. I consider making her cum again, but I know we don't have a lot of time and my lust wins out. I can't fight against the animal in me that wants nothing more than to be buried deep inside her, filling her with my cum.
I stand.
“On your hands and knees,” I instruct quietly. “Let me see you.”
She knows what I mean, what I want. Obediently, she flips onto her stomach and draws her knees in beneath her. She raises her ass into the air, bending gracefully at the waist to lay her head on the bed, her arms stretched out above her. I stare appreciatively at her wet, pink sex, set in the beautiful frame of her ass. With my left hand, I slide my fingers down, over, and inside her pussy; with my right, I finish pulling off my pants.
My cock throbs with need as I position myself between her legs. I pull my fingers out of her and grip her left buttocks with my left hand. My right hand guides my penis to the hot entry to her vagina. Slowly, so slowly, I ease my way inside her. Only when I'm deep inside, my pelvis pressed against her ass, do I remember to breathe.
“Fuck,” I whisper to myself again.
Taking her hips in my hands, I start to thrust in and out of her. All the way out, until I can see the mushroom tip of my cock, then all the way back in, until her ass presses against me in the most delightful way. In and out, so slowly.
In.
And out.
I feel the familiar pressure of an orgasm building again, but I'm still not ready. I bury myself inside her, but now I don't pull out. All thrusting has paused while I struggle to control the tide welling up within me. I reach up to her neck with my left hand, my palm pressed against her throat, and I pull her head up and back. Her body follows the silent command and she uses her arms to prop herself up, her back arched downward, toward the bed. My right arm snakes around her waist, and my fingers seek out the hard knob of her clitoris. With my cock enveloped in her warmth, I start to rub and massage her clit and her labia. Slowly, at first, then with increasing speed and pressure as her breath comes in shorter and shorter gasps, her muscles growing harder against my legs as her body prepares for another explosion of exctasy.
“Oh, Master,” she moans, her body trembling against mine. “I'm going to cum, Master. I'm going to—”
Another wordless shout interrupts her, and her pussy clamps down on the shaft of my penis. I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my teeth, fighting the orgasm that wants to tear through my body. My right hand isn't moving now—I can't spare the mental energy for that task—so I'm just pulling her up and toward me as she cums.
Finally, after a struggle that threatens to sap me of all my strength, tension once again flows out of her, and I can hear her taking deep, measured breaths. Slowly, in case I've misjudged my sensitivity, I pull out of her. When my tip is exposed once again and I've proven to myself I'm not going to cum right then and there, I ease back inside her.
In.
And out.
Now I start to pick up the pace. I know that, this time, there won't be any holding back. I can't. I don't want to. My grip on her waist tightens, and now I'm pulling her into me and pushing her away with every thrust. Every slap of her ass against my legs and pelvis is accompanied by a shaky squeak from her mouth. Our breath comes in ragged gasps. We're both covered in sweat. And with a wordless shout of my own, I drive my cock as deep as I can and I let go.
For the briefest of moments, I'm blinded by the searing, white light of sensory overload. Cum explodes from my dick, then continues to erupt in short, fast bursts. I can feel the hot fluid crowding around my cock inside her. Then, unexpectedly, she tenses again and her pussy tightens around me. She's cumming with me.
“Fuck!”
Not original, or insightful, or witty in any way, but the word is the most appropriate exclamation possible.
“Fuck,” I repeat, this time with a long exhalation.
I bend down and kiss her spine, then her shoulders and neck. She turns her face toward me, and we share a long, passionate kiss. Her tongue finds its way inside my mouth, then mine works into hers.
After some time—it could be seconds or minutes, my brain isn't capable of telling the difference at that point—we pull apart. I step back slowly, pulling my cock out of her as I go. A droplet of cum follows, hangs for a moment, and then falls to the bed. The majority, though, is still buried well within her.
“I'm sorry that you have to go,” I say to her as she flips onto her back and stands.
“Not as sorry as I am,” she responds, stepping forward and throwing her arms around me. She rests her head on my chest, and I wrap my arms around the small of her back. We stand like that for a short while, and then she pulls back.
She really does have to go.
“I want you to keep my gift with you while you work,” I tell her. “I'll ask you to send me a photo sometime later.”
She smiles and nods her understanding as she pulls on her clothes. I follow her lead and quickly dress myself. We hug once more, and then I walk her to the front door. There, we share one more long kiss, and then she's gone.