Poem. Toothpick. Katie Lewington.

We sit in the half light, sinking into the settee.  You have drunk the contents of your glass and I am finishing mine, watching the shadows cross your solemn face.
I take up your cock in my mouth,  hollowing my cheeks and exerting my tongue.  I flip onto my side and you nudge open my legs, pressing your hand in between them.
You become so close inside of me I can hardly concentrate on sucking you –
Your silky smooth flesh brushing against my teeth.  The fin of skin, sensitive underneath the head of your cock,  rubbed between the gap in my front teeth. You use your fingers to push me closer to you.
I flex my muscles.  Then you begin to speak ‘tell me about when you sucked somebody before me’
This I can ignore and suck harder, hoping you are unable to speak soon and that you simply enjoy this. 
‘Make me feel good’ you say breathlessly. I could give up, I’m out of breath loving you.
I try to get into it. Sucking fiercely, battling against your gspot tussling. ‘make me feel good’ you repeat.
Ah fuck it, you aren’t ever satisfied.
I break off, close my thighs around your hand.

K.L 2016  ©

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