Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Madeline

Holy crap.

Nobody has ever gone down on me before.

Nobody!

I think that's because the guys I've been with (and there aren't many) are always so intimidated and hesitant. I don't mean intimidated by me. I mean intimidated by the money and… Well, I'm rich as hell and even well-off guys get intimidated.

The point is, with guys, I'm always the aggressor. I end up giving blowjobs so they know I really want it. I'm twenty-two years old and have had sex about a dozen times with one boy back in college. It took two months for him to actually believe I wanted to have sex with him. That was after he hesitated for the first six times and just…

All right.

No mind wandering.

The point is that I'm always the aggressor to get past the guy's intimidation so the idea of someone going down on me just isn't an idea that ever occurs to me.

For fuck's sake, this is the best thing ever! The sensations that run through my body go beyond anything in my experience. What's really crazy about it to me is that it seems like a kind of subservient thing to do, you know, but there's no way on earth anyone could ever call Lucas subservient.

And there's no way anyone could experience what's happening now and think of it as Lucas serving me! He's not performing a service, for fuck's sake, he's consuming me. He's completely controlling me by overwhelming my senses with pleasure I didn't even know existed. That's not just hyperbole. As his tongue slides over my pussy, I feel sensations I didn't know a girl could feel.

Like, his tongue darts between my inner and outer labia and wriggles about there. I never knew that specific spot could sent pleasure through my body. It's like I'm learning incredible lessons about my anatomy. I just… It's amazing.

And when I cum, I feel broken. I feel like the orgasm is too strong and my spine will snap from the contractions.

And for the first time in my life, I feel absolutely unrestrained pleasure.

And then he's up and on top of me!

I shriek as his cock slides into me.

I think it's fair to say this is the first time in my life I ever shriek because of pleasure. My voice sounds very strange to me. Of course, since I'm experiencing sensations that go far beyond anything in my experience, I guess it's not that strange of thing for my voice to sounds strange.

My skin feels strange.

My vision seems strange.

I can smell Lucas's cologne, and that woodsy and spicy scent seems powerful and… Well, my sense of smell seems strangely acute.

And when he kisses me as I feel his weight atop me, I can taste myself. I can taste my pussy on his tongue! There may be nothing stranger than that.

But it's all wonderful. Maybe strange is wrong. Maybe what I ought to be saying is that it's all surreal. It all goes beyond reality, and I'm stunned and thrilled with how beyond reality I've gone. I hold him and shudder as my orgasm rages.

And then I learn a brand-new idea of beyond.

All of my reactions are to the surrealistic effect that results from his first powerful thrust. Now, though, Lucas thrusts again.

And again.

And each thrust drives that sense of unreality over me so it's like I'm drowning in confusing but beautiful pleasure. It's like I'm completely overcome and utterly unable to wrap my mind around anything.

But I can do a little bit of wrapping.

You better believe I wrap my arms around him. I wrap my legs around him as well, crossing my ankles right over his incredible butt. I hold onto him and move my hips as he thrusts. To be honest, I'm not very good at the moment.

I move haphazardly and haltingly because I can't even come close to getting into a rhythm. I'll lift myself up with my legs to meet his thrust and then gasp and shake as an explosion of pleasure impacts me. Or, as I try to move up, I end up freezing from a powerful contraction.

So, I mean, I'm not just laying there and being some kind of lifeless sex doll or something but there's no skill in what I do. The orgasm is too powerful for me to move the way I want to move to enhance Lucas's pleasure. As for my pleasure, there's not a damned thing I can do to make it any better than it already is. I don't think my body even has the capacity to experience anything better than this.

"Lucas," I breathe out, "Lucas, I…" Well, what the hell do I expect to be able to say? I can't think. I can't move. I can't really do a damned thing at all other than to try to survive the pleasure rushing through me.

Try to survive.

What a crazy, dramatic way to put it.

Well, it's crazy and dramatic but it's still a pretty damned good way to describe what's going on. If there are infinite universes, I'm not sure I can say that there's some universe out there where some girl is being challenged with more of a life-changing orgasm than I'm having right now. I'm the universe where the girl is experiencing it most.

Wow.

That's me.

It isn't good enough for me to be the center of attention. The world can't revolve around me. Not even the universe can revolve around me. Nope. All universes. I encompass everything. What the hell is wrong with me? I think Lucas is right. I really am a spoiled cunt.

No. I'm the one who said that. I used the word cunt .

Well, right now my cunt is exploding with sensation and completely overwhelming me with pleasure!

I have to say, I would never use that word to describe my pussy under ordinary circumstances. Thinking about my pussy as a cunt right now adds a deliciously dirty kind of flavor to things, and I actually manage to move a lot more now.

Well, saying I manage makes it seem like I have any say. I don't have any say. I mean, my body manages to do the movement and isn't particularly interested in what my brain might have to say about it.

And my body decides to move in a blur like some kind of frantic demon when Lucas cums. It moves lie absolute crazy. I cling to him and I don't have any control at all as my orgasm rages impossibly and I freak the hell out like some sort of…

Well, like a fairy princess who got fucked by a giant.

Damn, I get all the happy, beautiful feelings of laughter as that thought hits me, and all my energy finally disappears. I cling to him and say, "We're still going to fight a lot," through heavy, faltering breaths.

"Probably," he replies.

"But if it feels like this every time, I'll deal with you being an asshole."

He chuckles and says, "And I'll deal, too. You can be as much of a spoiled brat as you like."

Well, I'm not a spoiled brat for the rest of the night. I'm not while we shower together or when we order pizza and watch an old black and while movie. I'm not a spoiled brat when we make love again not as explosively but just as perfectly before I fall asleep in his arms. I'm not a spoiled brat when we make love again in the morning after breakfast and before he heads to the fire station.

I'm not a brat with him for all of that.

I'm spoiled though.

You better believe that.