We were in a room full of books. From floor to ceiling, all four corners of a room—full of books. Was it your house or mine? I had no idea. Maybe it’s our house.
Some evenings will find us there, nestled on a big sofa, me lying between your legs, my head on your chest as we both read the same book. You wait for me to finish before turning the page, and we talk about the story as we go along, laughing, arguing, occasionally kissing.
Eventually, you will realize that I have fallen asleep, and you let me lie there as you continue to read, content to listen to me breathe, loving the weight of my body on yours. And then when you have finished, you reach behind you to switch off the lamp, and you will spoon me and kiss the top of my head as you finally turn to sleep, too.
Other nights, your head is on my lap as we both read different books.
You will be deep in concentration, and suddenly, you feel tears on your cheek. You look up to find me reading and crying as I finish the last few pages, and you will brush away my tears and kiss me until the hurt fades, and we will make slow love by the fire.
You will spread a blanket and love me tenderly. You will look at me as I lie on my back, my long hair fanning out in all directions, spread out all over the floor, and you will kiss me, and other parts of me, telling me with your lips our own story.
Other nights, we would read to each other, recite love poems, erotic poems, each of us on the different ends of the couch, my feet on your lap. You massage them and warm them as I complain of the cold, until we find ourselves dropping the books on the floor, and my breath hitches as I look at you kissing my feet, licking my ankles, sucking my toes, kissing the back of my knees.
And we will make mad love, hard fucking, rolling off the couch and falling to the floor. Then you are picking me up and driving inside me hard, slamming my back on the shelves, dislodging books. Then you have me on all fours, and we will fuck and fuck and fuck.
Afterwards, you will kiss the rug burns on my knees, and I will kiss your shoulder where I bit you, your back where I scratched you.
Other nights, we would be by that big armchair by the window, and we would be drinking wine and listening to music, not reading anything, just kissing.
You would put me on your lap and you would undress me and look at me in the moonlight, and you would make me ride you.
You are fully clothed, and I am naked, and I would make love to you and ride your cock while you kiss me, lick my neck, suck my nipples.
Both of my hands are tugging at your hair while you insert your fingers in my ass as I fuck you, loving this feeling, being filled in both holes, and we will cum and cum and cum.
Other nights, I will have you on the same chair. I will undress you, blindfold you, and you will let me.
Your skin prickles, your cock stands at attention, excited, nervous, turned on, frustrated. You will hear me kneel in front of you, and hold your breath in anticipation, and release it in one big exhale as you feel my mouth engulf you.
If all these books could talk, they will describe how I slowly sucked your cock, licked your balls. I suck the tip, dip my tongue on the slit of your cock, and you grit your teeth at the pleasure.
I reach for your nipples and play with them, whispering for you not to move, and you laugh, you’re playing with fire, little girl.
Then you moan and groan and grunt and pant. Fuck, baby, you gasp.
I lick your nipples, I bite them. I dip my tongue in your ear, your navel. I lick your balls, taking each of them in my mouth, sucking on them. Your cock is so wet with precum and my saliva.
You are so hard, not only because of what I am doing to you, but also because you smell how wet I am, how aroused I am.
I lift your legs and kiss your calves, your feet, your toes. I open you wide and place your legs on the arm rests. Your body tenses—you know what I am about to do. You feel me kiss your inner thighs, lick the underside of your balls, and then. There.
I lick your ass, putting my tongue in your hole, and you moan and gasp and say my name, and I do it again, and again, and again. Your cock leaks precum, and I stroke it in time with my tongue. And then I suck you again and take your cock all the way to my throat, and you groan so loud, a long, guttural growl, and then you can’t control yourself, you put both of your hands on my head and start to fuck my mouth.
I remove your blindfold so you can see me, and oh, the look on your face as you stare down at me kneeling in front of you, with your cock in my mouth. The look in your eyes as you watch my hand pump your cock, while the other plays with myself.
You move your hips faster, and fuck my mouth in earnest, and suddenly you feel me insert one of my fingers in your ass, and then you’re shouting my name, coming so hard, so fast.
I take all of your cum, but you came so hard some of it drips from the corner of my mouth, on to my chin, and I lick it all up and you groan as you feel your cock twitch again.
You gather me in your arms and lick all of my fingers, and you kiss me, tasting yourself, tasting me.
We will fall asleep that way for a few minutes, me curled up in your lap, until you wake up and carry me to bed upstairs.
Oh, Daddy. I crave you. You are more beautiful to me than ever before.