Her absolute honesty and the raw emotion in her voice almost made me tear up. Of course, while my eyes didn’t get any wetter, elsewhere was a different story. “Mary, would you please help me orgasm? I want you to touch me. Please touch me.”
“Tell me how.”
“I want you to touch me however you’d like. But, to start… will you touch me all the ways you saw me touch myself? And will you tell me if you want to do more? It’s too hard to think when you’re touching me.”
By way of response, Mary rotated so my back was against her chest, giving her access to my whole body. Just like she saw, she slid her arm around my chest and gently pressed it up under my breasts. “Like this?”
“Yes!” I shuddered in her arms, my nerves alight with expectation. “Please will you make me cum, Mary? I need it so bad.”
She placed her free hand on my belly and slid it slowly downward. I spread my legs for her, probably wider that was necessary, trying to show her how much I wanted her touch. When she slid it across my pelvis, I whimpered and couldn’t help twisting my hips to try to make her speed up. When she didn’t, I was sure she’d stop just at the edge and tease me.
I still nearly cried when she did just that.
Her question did surprise me though, “In or out first?”
“W-what?”
“Do you want me to rub your clit or finger you?”
“In. Please- oh god, please Mary I want you inside me so bad!”
She didn’t take further encouragement, although she did raise her hand to her mouth to wet her fingers before reaching down and burying two digits in my desperate pussy. “Oh, fuck!” I swore loudly, my vision going white as I reflexively clamped down on her. “Don’t stop!”
“You’re so demanding all of a sudden.” She teased me, but did as I asked, pumping her fingers with a wet sloshing sound. “But I like it when you know what you want. You’re almost as sexy when you’re confident as you are when you’re a needy mess.”
I enjoyed the tingle her praise sent through me, but something about the end of the statement struck a chord in me. Writhing in her embrace, I twisted until I could kiss her under the chin and whimper softly, “I like it when you’re nice, but… I want you to be mean, too.”
She halted the steady movement of her fingers. “Mean how?”
“Not like that! Please, no more edging!”
She giggled, “Tell me what you mean and I’ll keep going.”
“I want you to call me names. Mean names.” Still as eloquent as ever.
She began to slowly fuck me with her fingers again, earning herself an intense moan of approval. “So you want me to tell you you’re a slut?” She paused to make sure she was okay, and I responded by squeezing her fingers again. “Oooohhhhh, I get it. You want me to tell you that you’re being a good little whore. A perfect fucktoy for me to play with.”
“Yes!” I whimpered and my back arched. “I’m so close, Mary.”
“Already? You made it look so hard before. I guess you were just playing it up so I would given in and do it for you.” She really seemed to enjoy I shudder every time she said something like that. “I haven’t even gotten to do all the things you asked for. I guess I’ll just have to wait for next time.”
“M-maybe…”I knew I was too far gone when it got hard to talk. “But- I, ah! I can’t f-finish unless you rub my clit.”
“Well, that’s good to know.” She pressed her fingers all the way into me and held them there. But before I could complain about the lack of movement, she curled them against the top of my pussy. I just about jumped out of my skin at the sensation, not expecting it to be so intense. “Ooooooh, you like that, huh? You like it when I tickle your g-spot?”
My only response was a mess of moaning, which only became worse when she finally released her grip around my chest so she could lift one of my breasts in her hand. She gripped it loosely, then gave it a squeeze to gauge my reaction. When it wasn’t enough for her, she squeezed harder, then switched to grip and tug on the nipple.
Clearly, that got the reaction she was looking for, because she kept it up. Then she added a rough twist that made me lift my hands to my mouth to muffle the volume of the half-scream that push it’s way out of my throat. That gave her pause, prompting her to release her grip and ask, “Was that too much for you?”
“It hurt.” I panted, throwing my head back onto her shoulder. “Do it again. Harder.”
I can only assume that she wore a delighted evil grin as she obliged me, forcing me to grab my dress so I could scream into the bundle of fabric. That left my legs twitching, and Mary didn’t need to be told what that meant.
Now only softly caressing my breasts, Mary shifted forwards until she was happy with her view. She kissed my neck, prompting me to turn my head until we could lock lips, her tongue invading my mouth as she relinquished my chest and slipped her hand down to my clit.
I whimpered into her mouth, gripping her legs in a futile attempt to keep my hands steady. She switched back to finger-fucking me, pounding her fingers into me rapidly as she finally began to circle my clit with her other hand.
It didn’t take long. Only a few seconds and I was done, my back arching as every muscle in my body seem to flex at once. What might have been a nigh ear-shattering scream of pleasure was cut off in a strangled gurgle as my throat constricted.
It is absolutely not hyperbole to say that it was the most powerful orgasm I had ever had.
Mary clearly enjoyed it as well, humming into my lips as I lost the mental presence to kiss her, then murmuring in my ear as I came down, telling me sweet little things like, “You’re such a good girl” and “You’re so sexy when you cum”.
I think I had been laying in her arms just trying to catch my breath for almost a minute when she asked me, “Hey, Yuri? Can I take a picture of us?”
I wasn’t sure if she was asking for her art or if she just wanted a keepsake, but regardless of her reason I shook my head. The thought of it was just too much right in that moment, and she didn’t press me for reasons.
***
It was probably five or so minutes later that the high finally died down and we both realized that laying on a hard wood floor was only comfortable for so long. We slowly untangled ourselves and I slipped my dress on. It was both extremely nice to be covered again and somewhat disappointing that it signaled the end of such a memorable night.
Well, not the end exactly. We still had some problems to solve, like how I definitely looked like I’d just been fucked. That was solved by Mary, who had a spare sweatshirt she used as an apron when she was painting. It was a mess, but I took great pleasure in having a huge, soft hoodie that smelled like her.
She caught me sniffing the collar, and I am reasonably sure she will never let me live it down. Totally worth it.
She stole a beanie from someone else’s cubby, and after some arguing she convinced me to wear it home and give it back the following day. It was my turn to make fun of her for calling it a toque like a grandma from Minnesota. To which she responded by saying something extremely inappropriate, making my knees go weak, and causing us to spend another five minutes making out and catching our breath.