The Upper Hand

Lauren Emily
10 mins read
Published 7 months ago

She’s taken to shoving her tits in my face.

I don’t mind. At the risk of sounding insensitive, her tits were the first thing I noticed about her, way back when. She’s proud of them, and she should be: they’re lush and creamy, showing themselves even in the baggiest of shirts and dresses, unable to be contained – until she does contain them in bondage gear. Before I even knew I wanted to fuck her, I couldn’t stop thinking about her breasts.

Made our early interactions very awkward.

I still dream about these tits: how soft they feel in my face, skin gliding over my tongue, twin nipples I pinch and kiss just the way she likes. If there’s an easier way to get myself off and quick, I have yet to find it. But right here and now I don’t have to dream because my mouth and hands are full of her.

“More,” she says, not a plea but a command, and I comply like the good lover I am. 

I can barely breathe and I’m fine with it – as if sensing my struggle she lifts her torso just enough so I can suck in some oxygen before lowering her nipple on my tongue once again. She grinds her wet pussy against my leg as I stroke her pale powdery flesh, sweet talcum scent filling my nostrils as I scrape my teeth against one nipple, then another as she moves over me and cries out her first orgasm, sex filling the air of her pink-walled bedroom. 

I haven’t even taken her panties off and I don’t have to look down to know they’re soaked with her essence, her want of me, the power of my lips and tongue. Her orgasms come before mine, always. I want to hear her scream like that, louder and louder and over and over, before I even consider taking care of my own needs. 

I’m not a sub, exactly, but in her case, this woman with the otherworldly breasts, I will do whatever she asks. Or tells. Ever since she approached me that first night and I stuttered that I’d like to be with her, you know, in that way, and she smiled and pulled me into the nearest bedroom, I’ve been down. What else can I say?

She leans down for a deep kiss and I suck her tongue in my mouth and tangle my fingers in the soft hair at the nape of her neck as she straddles my torso. Even a kiss is enough to weaken me. The way she moves her lips over mine, nibbling gently before going in for the kill, makes me grateful I’m flat on my back because otherwise, my legs would collapse under me. If I could swallow this woman whole, I would. But for now…

I pull back. “I want your tits in my face again.”

She smirks – normally I’m not the one making the demands. “If I must,” she purrs, sneaking in a kiss right at the most sensitive spot on my neck. I nearly explode right then and there, but not yet. 

Not yet.

Thirty seconds was definitely enough time to miss her tits, but here they are again, practically smothering me. I use my hands more this time, growing desperate for her to know how much I love her body, every curve perfectly placed. Twining my legs around hers and using my feet to massage her calves, I feel my senses heighten until I’m attuned to every breath, every giggle, every soft cry that I know means she wants me to do more on that very spot. 

“I think they’ve gotten bigger,” she whispers, and I snort into her cleavage, swallowing my ya think? while simultaneously thanking the gods that I’m the recipient of this abundance.

I lightly stroke her tits, running my fingertips over the whisper-soft skin in a way I know will invite her to beg for more. I squeeze, gently at first and then with more force as I introduce my tongue into the action. Grazing my lips over the underside of her breasts, I palm and push them together so I can lick both at once, beginning to rub her flesh as she writhes above me, pressing her tits into my hands. 

Her nipples, so stiff I actually shift my face so she doesn’t take an eye out, tantalize me: two tiny, gorgeous peaks at the centers. I want nothing more than to eat her alive, but I settle for tonguing every inch I can reach, using my fingers to twist her nipples as she shrieks “Fuck!” and then giggles maniacally at the sudden outburst. Now she’s greedy – I need to come right now, now, nooooooow – as she tugs my hair and a wave of adrenaline rushes through me. 

Sucking her nipples deep into my mouth, one by one, I reach one hand down and rub her clit through her now-drenched panties. She groans, begins to hump my palm and practically suffocates me with her tits, determined to get herself there. I want to eat her out, dive into that wetness, but she’s too far gone at the moment. Besides, I want her to work for this climax. Moving my mouth to her neck, I bite her earlobe and rub her tits while letting her work herself on my hand, the crotch of her panties so gloriously wet. 

“Ohhhhhhh,” she wails and I can tell she’s almost there, so I push aside the crotch of her panties and shove two fingers in, knowing from experience she will welcome the invasion. It does the trick and she frantically fucks my phalanges, the sounds of her climax bouncing off the pink walls.

Now I’ll eat her out.

I remember the first time I did this to her at that random party, her precariously balancing on a pile of coats as soon as we determined that yes, the door did lock. I listened harder to her than I ever had to anyone, suppressing my own desire in the name of hers as I figured out, with fingers and tongue and plenty of encouragement (she even high-fived me at one point, the dork) just what made her scream into an unknown person’s navy blue puffer coat. Such a proud moment.

I still listen of course, but a year later I know her better, know how to coax out not one but multiple releases, giving her everything I possibly can before catching my breath and then submerging again. If I do it right, my face is wet with her by the end, a scent I’ll take with me and give right back to her when we kiss, triumphant in getting her there. Sometimes she helps out, and watching her manicured fingers work up and down and in and out is so distracting, she’ll have to gently but firmly smack the back of my head as I willingly take the punishment.

The wood floor bangs my kneecaps as I assume the position. Kissing down her stomach, I take the thin strap of one side of her panties and use my teeth to work them down her leg, licking her thigh as the fabric and I make our way to the floor. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” she whispers, and I grin, biting my bottom lip, and settle between her legs.

She props herself up on her elbows, blue eyes wide as she observes me place a palm on each thigh, spreading them before looking back up at her for approval. She smiles and I lean in, breathing in the spice of her pussy, letting her think I’m really going to give it to her, before giving the hardened bud of her clit one tiny, teasing lick.

“No,” she groans, throwing her head back as I do it again. Then, again.

“You want to fuck my face, don’t you?” I ask. This time I take her clit between my lips, sucking it just slightly. Flopping on her back, tits jiggling, she grabs my head, trying to get closer, but I resist.

I stroke the inside of her thigh. “Patience. We’ll get there.”

“But wheeeeen?” she whines, and I have to laugh at how adorably tortured she sounds. 

Scooting up the bed, I kiss her hard and deep and she wraps her legs around me, frantic for another orgasm. Sucking each of her nipples once again, I lower to my knees. I wanted to tease her more, but I can’t say no to this one. And she knows it.

Running my tongue up the inside of her thigh, I gently push her legs apart and she sighs, content that she’s about to get what she wants. I take her clit in my mouth, for real this time, savoring the taste of the hardened bud and suckling. 

“Ohhhhhh yes,” she moans, running her bare foot up my back as I replace my tongue with my fingers, using featherlight strokes as I lave her pussy with my tongue. 

“You’re so wet,” I murmur and she groans in affirmation, lifting her hips to meet my face so I’m surrounded. My mouth takes on a mind of its own as I work her over, rubbing her clit and licking her up and down. As I taste, her hips move in a gentle figure eight, not yet thrusting. I know she’s holding herself back on purpose before she comes, full and hard. 

I reward her willpower by sliding my hands under the twin globes of her ass, grasping so I’ll leave bruises. She’ll remember me when she gets dressed tomorrow morning. I sigh into her core, massage her thighs with my hands and go face-first, no longer savoring but taking everything I can, giving everything I’ve got.

It’s time for her to come.

I plunge my fingers into her, relishing the hard ground under my knees, knowing that like her, I’ll be marked with our encounter. Now she’s fucking me, lovely hips bucking as I work my tongue faster, licking and sucking. “More,” she begs and I look up, questioning, not wanting to do anything to impede her orgasm.

“Your…” she trails off, then waves her fingers at me. “I want more.”

Message received. I add a third finger, and her walls clench around me. “Mooooore,” she moans and I add a fourth, my other hand on her thigh for leverage. When my mouth needs a break, I use my free hand on her clit, working it in my fingers over and over as she cries above me while moving my fingers inside her, the “come here” motion she likes best. 

She murmurs something above me and I look up again.

“Fist,” she clarifies.

“Really?” We’ve never done that before.

She nods, eyes fiery with lust. “Go slow?”

“Of course.”

She’s so wet we don’t need lube, and so close I’m afraid she’d kill me if we stopped. Keeping my palm up and gently withdrawing my four fingers, I add my thumb and make my way inside her just past my knuckles. 

“This okay?” I murmur and she nods, biting her lip in the way she does when she’s close. I’ve never done this before, but I gently clench and unclench my fingers, watching her face to ensure I’m pleasing.

“Oh god, keep going.” She’s desperate to be filled and stretched: I can tell by every pleading syllable. Her pussy feels just as amazing on the inside, clinging to me, and I take her clit in my mouth for the last time, moving my fist back and forth just the tiniest bit while clenching and unclenching in rhythm. 

“Aaaaaaaaaah,” she screams, fondling her own tits, then grabbing me by my hair, coming over and over and over and for the very first time I find her G-spot and she squirts right in my face and my knees hurt and I smell of her and I can tell you right now I’ll never be this happy again.

LE
Written by
Lauren Emily

Lauren Emily lives (and loves) in Chicago, and is the author of the novel SATELLITE.