Mature content marked by ***
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I tongue his tip one more time. A loud moan in sync with his hot cum sets me on the brink of an orgasm as the cum fills my mouth. His eyes roll my back, his back arches. I watch his body cum through my thick lashes. Brixton bucks his hips on more time, and I feel myself spill all over my panties. Shit, I just came all over his couch. At least there's a blanket under me.
Brixton looks down at me, a smile coating his face, mischief twinkling in his eyes. He slides his body down the couch and leans his head up. His hands burn my sides as I move towards his face. The most intense kiss is placed on my lips as Brixton holds me there. Not expecting what he wants from me next, I move away from him. Was that it? Is that all he wanted?
"We aren't done yet, kitten. Come'er."
I walk on my knees moving my whole body closer to him.
"Sit on my face."
"What?"
"A man has done that for you right?"
"No."
"Oh, good. I'm about to teach you something new."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Straddle my face, each knee on one side of my head."
I do as he says, and Brixton discards of my panties, throwing them onto the hardwood floor. I find my shimmering, sensitive wet vagina hanging over his mouth. My mouth drops open when I finally understand what he's thinking. I've always wanted to see how it feels, but what if I hurt Brixton? What if I crush him? I'm not a heavy girl, but I'm not as skinny as Jenny.
"Stop overthinking. I'll tap your thigh four times in a row if I need to say something or breathe. But I can promise you that's not going to happen."
"I'm nervous."
"That's okay. I've got you. Do you want to give this a try?"
"Yes."
"Then, sit on my face, kitten."
His words make more juices leak out of me, and I watch a smirk spread over his face. His tongue darts out as he licks his bottom lip. Brixton doesn't wait for me, he thrusts my hips down onto his face. His tongue circles my wet folds before he goes searching for my clit.
I moan out in pleasure, never having felt something so good before. Every one of my nerves is begging for more. Light, breathless curses leave my mouth as Brixton tongue enters me, his nose grazing my clit. My control has been left in the wind, and my hips involuntarily roll against his mouth.
I grip the edge of the couch, my head thrown back. Brixton hums softly, his vibration sending shock waves up my spine. My one hand grips the hair on the top of his head, pushing him deeper into me. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I whimper as Brixton continues his dangerous, sexy assault against my sweetness.
Everything blurs, my whole body set on fire as I cum. My wetness flows into Brixton's mouth, me still rolling on his face. I ride out my orgasm before being so tired that I almost collapse there. Brixton taps my thigh four times, and I slide away, now straddling his chest.
"You taste so good."
***
Brixton hands draw slow circles on my skin under the sweatshirt. I lean down, pressing a kiss to his lips, tasting myself on them but not at all caring.
"Are you feeling okay, kitten?"
"A little tired but other than that I'm alright."
"Do you want to take a nap before baking the cookies or start them now?"
"I think we should make the cookies now."
"Alright. You'll have to get off though, kitten."
I glare playfully at Brixton and head into the bathroom to pee. He hands me my toothbrush (yes, my toothbrush) with toothpaste on it, and I start to brush my teeth. The salty cum taste goes away gradually as I brush my teeth with the mint toothpaste. Once Brixton's done brushing his own teeth, he travels back to the couch. I hear the washing machine start, so I know Brixton's washing his cum filled blanket. I love a clean man. How could one person be so incredible? How can one man be so...I don't even know the right word. It's not perfect but utopian almost.
He walks back into the bathroom, my underwear in his hand. I hold out my own hand, but he doesn't hand them to me. Without even trying to be subtle, he sniffs them lightly. I chew on my bottom lip, watching him smirk from my natural scent. I reach for them, and Brixton wags his finger at me. I look at him confused and go to grab them again. He dangles them from his pointer finger above his head, which I certainly can't reach. A smile spreads across his face as I try to jump for them. Brixton only holds them farther away from my arm length.
"No underwear for you."
"What are you talking about?"
"I think you heard me. You aren't going to wear underwear."
"Are you kidding me?"
"It's a rule now, and only I can make exceptions."
"No. You can't make that a rule."
"My house, my rules."
"My panties, my rules."
"They are my panties now."
"You didn't buy them."
"I can buy some for you. Cross another thing off your bucket list."
"You want to be there as I try on expensive lingerie?"
"You just rode my face, kitten. Of course I want to be there."
He chuckles at me and takes my hand in his.
"Come on. I've got to teach you another thing today."
"You are quite the professor today. Waffles, lazy days, me riding your face, and now cookies. What else have you got?"
"There are so many other things I want to teach you, but I don't think you're ready."
"No?"
"No."
"I might surprise you, brown eyes."
"You do. Every fucking day of my life."
Brixton tugs me into the kitchen, turning on his bluetooth speaker to play some music. I hear Kane Brown's album play through the speakers and instantly burst out in song. Brixton chuckles at me as I take a spatula in my hand, sliding across the hardwood floor.
"Come on, kitten. We've got to get the batter going."
"Two more minutes to dance."
He holds up his hands in surrender and preheats the oven so it heats up to 375ºF. I watch him move around the kitchen with dramatic ease. I love men in the kitchen. There's something about a man who knows how to cook and is specifically cooking for you that makes me so...turned on. I lean my arm against the counter, biting my lip, staring shamelessly at the half naked, cooking man in the kitchen.
Brixton pulls out the baking ingredients as he pretends to not notice me drooling at and over him. I think he likes it. I hope he likes it because if this cooking/baking thing continues I'll be doing it a lot more. I move around the counter, swaying my hips to Good as You by Kane Brown. Brixton wraps an arm around my waist, crooning the song slowly to me.
How have I not melted on the floor yet?
He takes my hand, spinning me out of his arms and then back in. I giggle softly as Brixton dances me around the kitchen, humming tenderly to the music. I lay my head on his chest, his hand holding mine carefully, his arm around my waist. I listen to his heartbeat that makes all my nervousness fade.
It makes my attacks fade. My overwhelmingly anxious and depression inducing thoughts quit as I hold him close to me. Brixton puts his head into my neck, holding me as close to him as he possibly can. When the ending note of the song plays, he pulls away and presses the most loving kiss against my lips.
"What would I do without you? Who was I before I met you?"
"I have no idea, but I'm happy for who you are now."
"I am too. Before you, everything else seemed like a blur, and I don't know what else to do with myself now that you are here."
"Well, why don't we bake some cookies?"
"Sounds good, kitten. Come on. Let me show you. I have the secret recipe."
Brixton pulls me in front of the counter where all the ingredients, utensils, and other appliances needed are set up.
"Are you going to show me the secret recipe?"
He taps on his chin as if he's in deep thought while he corners me in between the counter and his muscular body.
"Can I trust you to keep it a secret?"
"I'll probably still have no idea what I'm doing...even if I read it."
"You won't tell anyone?"
"No way! I'm an excellent secret keeper."
"Good to know."
"You can tell me anything, and I'll keep it a secret. Unless you killed someone."
"I haven't killed anyone, so I think you're in the clear."
"That's good. I don't want to be dating a killer."
I clap my hands together, totally ready to start baking and trying not to burn his apartment down.
"The recipe?"