Mr Biter was round. We lay next to each other, naked. Skin on skin. Flesh pressing into flesh. Warm, slightly sticky as our fingers roamed.
We touched. Stroking torsos, exploring thighs. My fingertips circling the head of his cock whilst he moved his hand against my clit with various pressures. And all the while, we kissed. Deep, slow devouring kisses that reached into my soul and when one of us distracted the other, our lips held fast, and we just breathed each other in. We were utterly connected in a way I struggle to describe. And then we made love. It’s a clichéd phrase, but this wasn’t just two bodies fucking; this was a different level of connection altogether. I rode him. Stroke after stroke after impaling stroke of ecstasy.
I don’t do vanilla. It doesn’t turn me on. It doesn’t tick my boxes. Yet, somehow, this time… it did.