This is a part within a series focusing on a couple and their erotic adventures. The couple are both 20+ in this story.
I didn’t often paint my nails; they never lasted and would chip almost immediately. My toenails, however, were always painted. I would paint them every color under the sun, even if it no one except you saw them. They made me happy. Thus, on the few occasions that I did paint my fingernails, especially if I matched them to my toenails, I walked around as if I was in the midst of a mine field. Or as if I were a mummified zombie trying to find my stolen, and cursed, treasure shaped like brains. Given that nail polish and nail polish remover both have a distinct smell, you knew when to stay away. Sometimes, however, the shenanigans you brought me into were worth redoing my nails.
I had just painted my nails, both sets of ten, and had just placed the top on the bottle. More than solid colors even: one finger on each appendage was a sparkly silver while the others were all a dark grey. I was waiting on my top and final coat to dry, what feels like the longest layer of all, when you sauntered in with a tell-tale gleam in your eyes.
“No,” I stated firmly, already knowing what was coming. “Noooo, I just painted my nails. Can’t you smell the nail polish. They are perfect! Not a single smudge or missed place. Get away from me with those eyes and grabby hands.”
I saw the pout forming, slightly dulling your eyes, before it vanished. “What if I tell you that you don’t have to use your feet or your hands and that I will preserve your nails completely?”
It wasn’t unusual for you to find me and already be in the mood for sex. Nor did it take me very long to get on your level. Often times just telling me what got you worked up, well, worked on me too. Especially if you were teasing me, like now, by palming your length through your sweats (or boxers, or jeans, or even the one time with the suit pants), biting your lip, making bedroom eyes, and subtly flexing your arms (we both know I am a sucker for biceps and forearms). Hardly ever did it take all four tactics to rouse me, but this time I was giving you a run for your money.
“You told me that a time or two ago about my hair. It took me twenty minutes to put it back together. We ended up not even going too,” at this point I folded my arms across my chest, over my tits, to show a point and hide your staring. If I had known, I would have worn a bra, and more than an oversized hoodie of yours. Hell, probably would have worn a parka if I could have. Painting my nails is a process that should never be interrupted. “So no, turn around and go jack one out in the living room or somewhere away from me and my nails.”
All of the tactics somehow failing, which had never happened before, I could see your mind whirring with possibilities. Seeing how all four tactics are rarely all used without me giving in, you were having a hard time coming up with a fifth. Seriously, three of the tactics are used generally around when I start my period each month. All four have been used once and that was in the beginning of our relationship when you wanted me to finger your ass as I blew you (you didn’t even need to use them either, I just didn’t want to sound so eager to put my fingers up your butt). I knew I was in trouble when a calm certainty came about, completely sure of yourself, and my inability to deny you anything sexual.
A quick peak at my nails and the clock next to where I was sitting on our bed proved that my nails were far from dry. Given that I use a super strong top coat in hopes of my nail polish lasting longer, it usually means that it takes three centuries to dry or it needs some special lamp. Of course, I opted for the option of time.
“Since I’m already in our room, you don’t mind if I sit next to you, right baby girl? I won’t make any attempt to get too close to you or your nails. I will stay on my side of our bed.” With that, you took your time to get to your side, ensuring that I had a perfect view of your dick swaying under your sweats with grandbetting yeni giriş every step. The lack of a shirt only further aided the view, the dark trail of hair connecting both of my happy places. You weren’t ropes of muscle, but you also weren’t skin and bones either. You were my ideal man. Something which you had every intention of exploiting to your best degree. You furthered my point when you met my eyes and let your sweats drop to the floor before climbing into bed, albeit carefully, to rest your back against the headboard. “See. Not anywhere near your nails. And since he,” with a pointed nod towards your dick, “isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. I assume you don’t mind if I rub one out here.”
At the sight of my flushed cheeks and parted lips, you knew that I had no intention of answering you, not even if I was forced to. Especially as your right hand went from behind your head, which allowed me a full view of your body, to your dick. You slowly, and loosely, started stroking your dick, the muscles bunching in your arm with each stroke. I was still able to hold out on helping you, but not by much. I saw you facial expression change from calm certainty with a side of arousal to completely confident with a main dish of arousal. You knew you had me. It was just a matter of time.
“Ohhh, fuck baby. This feels so good,” you moaned out breathlessly. By this point, your pre-cum had leaked out and your stroking did a good job in spreading it around to only aid you. Your hold got tighter, making the sound of your strokes get louder and wetter. You were so confident that you had me, you stopped paying me any attention to focus on your dick. Your head was still against your other arm but now your eyes were closed, lips parted to let out every sound, every harsh exhale as your stroked yourself to completion. Or maybe I wasn’t even needed for this jerk off session. We both had a pretty good memory for our spank banks. This wouldn’t be the first time that either one of us would cum without the other, usually due to schedule conflicts. At that thought, I folded. I hated masturbating by myself, would rather wait until you could join or even just direct, just so that I could feel close to you. Nails could be re-done. Besides, I don’t need my hands to make you cum.
You didn’t falter in your strokes, nor did you startle when you felt me suddenly move to straddle you. All without hands, too. My pussy was mere inches from where you were stroking your cock, I could almost feel the whooshing of air against my pussy. I had been so busy trying to not give in that I completely ignored my own arousal sings; my nipples were pebbled, noticeable through your hoodie while my pussy was leaking my arousal onto your cock as I hovered, only aiding in your stroking. I fully admit that it doesn’t take much to turn me on, not that I can’t behave, but your tease and how far you pushed me made it ten times worse than usual.
It wasn’t until I started to sink down on your cock that your eyes opened, and your lips briefly went into a smirk before I smothered them with my own. Nipping on your bottom lip, almost in punishment for my lack of a will power when it comes to you. As I bottomed out, quite easily due to how wet and turned on I was, I went from nipping your lips to meeting your tongue with me own. Adjusting to your size, the stretch of your think cock always making it a necessity, I started to grind against your cock followed by lifting my hips and slamming back down. By this time, I knew my toe nails were fucked, if they weren’t messed up from when I straddled you, they were now as I moved my feet every lift of my hips to offer balance. My hands were still half in the air after all, rather comically.
“Good girl,” you murmured to me, having broken off of our kiss. “I was wondering when it would take for you to fold. It’s a shame about your toenails. It’ll be a shame if something happened to your fingernails too.” At the same time, your hands from behind your head, where they went after my pussy swallowed your dick, grandbetting giriş to my hips. Your hips started to meet my own in a frenzy, your grip on my hips almost too painful as you helped me keep my speed. As I had opened my eyes to meet yours after you broke the kiss, I was able to see the pure animalistic need that appeared as you thoroughly fucked me from the bottom. It seems as though you held off from coming to find me longer than I thought, but in the moment, all I could think was how good your dick felt.
I gave in. Having almost lost balance and fallen off your dick, which we definitely can’t have, I moved my hands from being a mummy to rest on your shoulders, just slightly grasping a hold. This moved my breasts from lightly resting on your chest to help with balance, to out I the open. Something you definitely took notice of at they bounced with every thrust. This only further your need, mine too, as I now got even better leverage to move my hips. Occasionally, I would go against your hold on my hips to grind against your groin. Before allowing you to go back to leading me in the rhythm. Each time your dick bottomed out, your balls slapped against me, adding a slight sting that did nothing but further the knot being created in my stomach.
“Nooo, what are you doing,” I half whimpered, half moaned, as you stopped altogether. “I was enjoying that.” Turning to look at your face, I had been ogling your muscles that were tensing and relaxing from fucking me seconds before, your confidence was back and even more apparent than before. You got me right where you wanted me anyway, begging for your dick, so you had no reason not to be.
“Oh, I know,” cue the half smirk. “But you are going to like this even better.” Not a second after that, you somehow took us from cowgirl to missionary without detaching our connection or further messing up my nails that rested on your shoulders. “Now hold on.”
And I did. If I thought you were animalistic before, I had no words for how fast and hard you were thrusting into my pussy. The squelch sounds from my pussy only got louder and I could feel a mixture of my wetness and your pre-cum dripping down to make a puddle on the bed. I could only imagine how wet your balls were from slapping into me, which made the feeling of them slapping into me that much greater. My hands on your shoulders went from a loose, I-need-to-balance, hold to a I’m-being-fucked-for-my-life, hold on so I don’t lose my soul. My legs wrapped around your waist, feed resting on top of your ass, feeling how you tightened with each thrust. The ball that slowly dissipated with my disappoint of you stopping came back with a vengeance. You were supporting your weight on your arms, allowing a gap between us, feasting your eyes on my tits that had their own jiggling in mind, occasionally looking down at my stomach that was jiggling just the same. You had the perfect body in my eyes, and somehow, you always said that I had the perfect body in your eyes, regardless of my jiggly parts. Rather than feeling self-conscious, I let the feeling of possession and love take over me, in between the tightening of my lower stomach.
When your dick buried into me at the hilt each thrust, I moaned out, “I’m. About. To. Cum. Don’t. Stop.” What did you do? You stopped completely, not moving an inch. Pressing your hips against mine to stop me from bringing about my own orgasm. You brought your arms from pressing against the bed on either side of me to under my head, ignoring my whining and begging to please move all the while. After what felt like years of struggling for some kind of friction, I gave up with a huff. “I was so fucking close babe. Why?”
This brought your attention up from where you were staring at my tits, to my face, giving you a slight smolder. “Well, seeing as how you didn’t want to have sex in the beginning, I didn’t think you would mind not having an orgasm either. After all, aren’t your nails more important?”
I couldn’t tell if you were trying to appear innocent or just plain old furthering grandbetting güvenilirmi an agenda that I have no doubt you planned at this point.
“Yes. I know. You know. But not want now they aren’t and I want to orgasm on your cock. Then I want you to call me your dirty little slut as you fill my pussy up with your cum. Then we are going to cuddle and I will give you all of the attention you can handle until you are ready to go again. Then we can have nice lazy sex to make up for both of our rudeness.” In my head, my words had backbone, they were words from a strong independent woman who didn’t need a man to cum. In reality, however, they were barely more than a plea for mercy hoping you took pity on me.
“Hmmm. I don’t know. I don’t think bad girls,” you emphasized the last two words with two harsh thrusts, “should get what they want. So how about this. I’m going to fuck you until I cum and if you cum too, great. If not, well, I guess you have to mess your nails up further, huh? With how tight your pussy is right now, I wouldn’t doubt that you were still on the edge, I know I am. Now gimme a kiss and hold on.”
I had been well and truly defeated. You definitely won this round of wills. So I offered my lips up for you to dominate and gripped your shoulders for dear life. The thrusts that I thought were animalistic were nothing compared to how your cock felt diving into my pussy. In hindsight, you were thrusting fast, yes, but not your full length. This time, though, I’m pretty sure I’ll need a band-aid for my cervix after the pounding your cock puts it through. I was getting your full length over and over and I could do nothing but hold on. There was no lifting my hips to match your pace, none of that. I was there to receive whatever pleasure you deemed fit to allow me and bring you to cum. Judging by the drool enticing kiss you somehow managed to keep up with, you weren’t not trying to prevent my orgasm. Just the opposite really. I knew I was done for when one of your hands moved from cradling my head to putting pressure on my throat. If I ever had any reason to doubt that you knew my body, every time we had sex and you somehow knew just the right thing to make cum restarted my thinking.
“Mmm, that’s baby. Cum on my cock, clench your little pussy on my cock as it pounds into you. Are you gonna squirt? I think you might. My little slut is gonna squirt just from having her greedy cunt filled. So sensitive.”
“Ohhh fuck. Oh fuck,” I moaned, if not screamed. “Yes, yes, yes. Please, please. Please.” Whatever rhythm you had before was gone. My hips were uncontrollably fucking myself on your cock and, as I could feel your balls tighten and dick start to twitch, I knew you were done for too. As the nice person I am, I decided to help you, “Ohh, yes. I want your cum inside me. Cum in your slut’s pussy. Yesssss,” I hissed out as I felt your cum shoot out with each sharp thrust into my pussy. Judging by how wet we both were, there was little doubt of me squirting and even surprise as the amount of cum that you pumped into my pussy, only for it to leak out with the softer thrusts following our big climaxes.
What cultivated over who knows how long by yourself, a good half an hour of teasing alone, and an immeasurable amount of time of fucking, both our orgasms felt that they took eons to fully pass over us. Leaving us in the aftermath of sweat, cum, and pussy juices. Even though both of our bodies needed a shower, neither of us wanted to move from where we found ourselves; your dick softening inside of me while your arms wrapped around my waist with your head on my chest, your full weight offering me the comfort only you can bring. Our legs were tangled, although mine barely reached your knee with our height differences and positions. Not even paying mind to my sure to be messed finger nails, I was lightly running my nails over your scalp and back, or what I could reach of your back, before continuing the path.
Although both of us enjoyed our positions immensely, the drying juices were starting to get uncomfortable. You popped your head up to look at me, “Wanna take a bath with me? I will show you how a man does his woman’s finger-nails.”
At my slow grin and heavy eye-lids, you had your answer. And a promise for a second round. Maybe even a third, depending on how well you can paint.