The Third Date [ONESHOT]

The Third Date

"You know, we don't have to if you don't want to," he said, his hand on my waist under my shirt. "But I would love to eat you out."

"Hmm..." Receiving oral was my favorite, and I knew he could deliver his word. I hesitated, playing out the scenario in my head of how big a bitch I would be if I let him and didn't like him enough to go on a fourth date.

"You don't even have to give me head. Just me going down on you."

That did it. He had kept his word before, and I trusted him enough to follow through now – especially because I was slightly turned on. A smile crept onto my face and I bit the edge of my lip.

"Okay."

Shining me a victorious smile, he moved back to my mouth, and gave me two fleeting kisses. Quickly, he turned his lips to a path down my neck and between my breasts, unhooking my bra in the process.

I inhaled sharply at the touch of his tongue circling my nipple, sucking on it slightly. At the same time, he slid a hand beneath the waistband of my capris and applied pressure to the dip in my pelvis, a surefire way of making me melt.

"You know, it's a shame," I said after a captivated breath. "These are my favorite pants."

"Well let's get 'em off then!" he said in a deep voice, undoing the button and the zipper, but struggling to pull them down from my butt and thighs. "I hate denim."

In a smooth motion, I removed my pants and he tossed them aside. Moving his hands and face back up my body, my top joined the ranks of the floor.

"Okay, no more talkie," he commanded. I complied, turning all my attention to feeling.

He went back to work on my right nipple, his tongue hardening it while his hand occupied my left. He squeezed my breast before trailing down to my underwear; lacy and dark, I had picked it with him in mind.

He slid his thumbs between it and the curves of my hip and drew them off. Laying fully exposed under him, he took in every inch my body as he exhaled down my torso, toward my vulva.

I spread my thighs apart to welcome him, although my body already showed signs of pleasure. Without hesitation, he licked up my juices and began teasing my clitoris. I succumbed to him as he alternated between using the tip and flat part of his tongue to delight me.

Tracing my outer layers, he then plunged inside my walls, moving in ways previously foreign to me. I began to shake – it had only been minutes, but it felt like hours. He sensed this and pulled back out, pausing to revel in his successes. As I regained control, he taunted me by stroking his tongue over my clitoris again, changing speeds and directions. Eventually he introduced his fingers and the extra pressure on my entrance only made me shudder and come more.

He enjoyed watching me writhe with pleasure for the next few minutes: my shallow breaths, his shirt clutched in my palm, my head turning back in fourth. He held my hips down and flicked his tongue over my sex again; over and over until the arch of my back reached its peak, and my breath finally slowed.

He drew back out and met my eyes. He leaned in to meet my mouth, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, hungrily tugging on his lips and deepening the kiss.

Satisfied with himself, he gave me a blanket from a nearby chair.

"You sure you don't want to stay the night?"

~