The Photographer

(21) Vanilla is my favourite flavour. Pt2

She decided to be brave and tried playing with his balls, stroking them, grazing them with her nails and massaging them. And it had an instant effect.

Suddenly both of his hands were holding her head, the roll of his hips became more of a thrust, though still not forceful, and his moans were getting louder, interspersed with words spoken in German that she didn't understand.

He was beginning to nudge the back of her throat more and the salty, slightly bitter taste of pre-cum had suddenly become apparent.

She allowed herself a look upwards and was treated to the sight of his heavenly body, his chest moving as he breathed heavily, his stubble covered chin, his muscular neck and his Adam's apple moving in his throat as he swallowed down a groan.

Her insides complained; pulsing, aching and squeezing around nothing; she wanted him so badly in that moment that she wasn't even aware of the way her hips were writhing, mimicking the way she'd grind on him if she was riding him.

Seb looked down at her, meeting her gaze, feeling their connection deep down inside him. Her eyes looked a little watery from where he'd been nudging the back of her throat with the tip of his dick but they were also alight with desire and love. He couldn't fail to notice the way her hips were writhing and rolling; her need for him was evident and building by the second and if there was one thing he couldn't and wouldn't do it was putting his own needs before hers.

He bent enough to caress her cheek and ease his aching length from her pretty mouth. It wouldn't have taken long until he'd cum but he couldn't ignore the desire that illuminated her dark eyes.

She frowned, her confidence still fragile, her brain immediately thinking that she'd done something wrong, that he wasn't enjoying it as much as she'd thought.

"It's ok darling," he offered her his hands to help her to her feet, his voice deeper than usual and husky as he spoke, "we're not done yet."

"But you haven't... you know..." she accepted his offered hands and slowly rose up to her feet.

Letting go of her hands, he pulled her close, "I don't want to cum in your mouth, not this time and I can see how needy you are for me. I can't ignore that look in your eyes."

She felt her cheeks heat up and she turned her head to one side to quietly admit, "I didn't realise I was being that obvious."

"Iris," he lightly grasped her chin in his fingers, making her look back at him. What she'd said was a small example of her fragile confidence. "That's not meant to be a criticism, it just shows how I can read those beautiful, dark eyes of yours and there were other signs too. We're in tune with each other and that's a good thing. Now, where do you want me?"

"Want you?" she murmured, feeling momentarily lost, he was already right in front of her.

"Let me put it another way," he smiled seductively and placed a light kiss on her lips, "where would my precious flower like me to fuck her?" Then he glanced around before reeling off a couple of ideas, "right here, on the counter? The table? Up against the wall?"

For a second she could barely breathe, it felt like her whole body was reacting to every word; insides clenching, goosebumps erupting, heat emanating, nipples hardening. A glance downwards at his impressive erection quickly made her decide and she put her hand flat on the countertop, looking into his eyes as she said, "right here."

"Good choice," he grinned and made light work of lifting her to sit on the counter.

The white, quartz surface felt cool against her bare behind and it reminded her about the ice cream that she'd been previously licking off his body. She pointed to open pot, where it was already beginning to melt. "Seb, the ice cream."