The List 19: Its Tongue is for Licking Boots, Cunt, and Ass: Part 2

Click here to start with Part 1

Previously: She let it go on for awhile, until it was time to push deeper. “On your knees. That tongue has other uses.”

His tongue reluctantly rose up from the leather of her boots, followed by his head then his shoulders. The wooden rods held his tongue out from his face, a pulled, distorted muscle dragged out of his mouth and held there.

She shifted her weight and the fingers of one hand wrapped around his hair, pulling his face into her cunt. He scooted forward on his knees, and frowned, shifting to get used to the angle. With his tongue held in place he had to move his head, running his tongue up and down her slit by using his neck to work his entire head up and down.

She flipped one leg over his shoulder, pulling him in tight against her body and pinning him there, balancing on her other leg. He scooted in closer, shoving his spine upright and bringing his chin hard up against her body. His neck continued to make little jerking motions, rubbing his dry tongue between her labia.

She was already wet, and he used his tongue to push the moisture up to her clit. Digging his tongue into her vagina, dragging his tongue up her slit, wetting her labia and running his tongue over it.

Her eyes slipped closed, and she enjoyed the unusual sensations. It wasn’t the typical pattern, it was a short session of tongue fucking followed by a long lick up to her clit, then his tongue rubbing over her until it slipped back down for more tongue fucking.

Little electric jolts washed through her body as his tongue ran across her clit, and she jerked his hair as he started to move his tongue downward. She held him there, keeping his tongue on her clit, while he tried to pull his head down, enjoying the sensation of her fingers pulling his hair up from his skull.

They struggled back and forth, enjoying the push and pull, their bodies working against each other. The sensation of muscles being worked in different ways against their will, his hands clamped tightly against her legs and holding her up but his head trying to slip back down to tongue fuck her, her leg pulling his face tight against her body but her hand clamped in his hair holding his tongue up against her clit.

He jerked his head back and forth, frantically working her clit with the tip of his bound tongue, begging with his body to be allowed to slide his tongue down and inside her. She clenched her fist tighter, wanting him to work for it, until his frantic licking sent a small orgasm through her. She let her arm drop, let his tongue slide back down her until it slid insider of her body.

He rammed his tongue inside her as far as he could, feeling her pubic hair rubbing against his face, tasting and penetrating her body. The orgasm slowed then stopped and she was dragging his head upwards again until his tongue found her clit. She held on, forcing him to stay in that spot, to work his tongue over that sensitive piece of flesh until the orgasms exploded behind her eyes and she slumped over.

She held him close against her while he held her up, both of their eyes clamped tightly shut, sweat running down their bodies and mixing together. She finally pushed him away and planted her foot back on the floor, then sat down hard on the bed.

She fanned herself with a hand while he slumped back to his hands and knees, both of them breathing hard. Finally she pushed herself further up onto the bed and rolled over on her stomach, stretching her arms out and letting her entire body go limp.

A happy sigh came from her lips, and she pulled a pillow down under her head. “Well, come on. One more use for that tongue before I give it back to you.”

Her words energized him, and he scampered up onto the bed, lying his torso down and gently placing his lips on one ass cheek. He alternated back and forth, pushing against the chopsticks holding his tongue out of his mouth, burying his lips in the flesh.

Her hips wiggled excitedly, and her lips pulled into a smile. She flipped open her phone and turned on the camera, propping it against the headboard until he came into view. As he moved from side to side she caught glimpses of his face, and could see his eyes were closed.

Her butt-cheeks clenched and her back stiffened then relaxed as the tip of his tongue touched her asshole, and she exhaled slowly. With his face distorted by the wooden dowels pulling out his tongue, he still looked at peace as he started to run his tongue around in small, tight circles.

She watched him in the small screen on her phone, and drifted off into a soft haze, thinking about what she’d be doing with that mouth next.

Preview: Mouths are for being grmrmphhged.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

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The List 4: Knees are for Kneeling

Click here to start at the beginning

From Part 3:

He stopped and carefully lowered his body to the floor, laying on his side, his knees and hands still raw and burning from where the rice had gouged its way into his flesh. He looked across the room at her and smiled, until…

“Besides, next up is kneeling, and you’re going to need the breather.”

She flopped over on the bed, tired and warm and satiated. Momentarily. She played back over the events in her head as her breath slowed, and thought about what was going to happen next. Her skin started to tingle, and she rolled over to look at him and smiled. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

His head raised slightly and he grinned back at her. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to wear you out.”

She hopped off the bed, her dress fluttering down around her legs, picked up the trash can by the bed and walked over to him. “Smart-ass. I appreciate the concern, but I think I’ll manage. Give me your hand.” She took his hand and started working the tape loose. The sharp hiss of adhesive coming off skin matched his sudden inhalation. She pulled it off slowly, letting him feel every hair that was ripped off along with the tape, enjoying the looks playing over his face.

She slipped the glove off, dumping the rice into the wastebasket and setting it aside. Her fingers slid across the dimpled flesh on his palms, plucking out bits of rice and dropping them in the wastebasket. His fingers twitched and she imagined the pain from fresh blood bringing oxygen to the damaged cells, and felt the damp warmth of his skin. She ran her fingers along his palm, then let go of his hand. “Other hand, please.”

The tape ripped off again, more hair and skin latched onto adhesive and deposited in the waste basket. The rustling sound of uncooked rice falling out and hitting the plastic trash bag. She picked out the few grains that remained in his palm, and felt herself getting hungrier. She paused for a second, considering. “Okay, down on your stomach. Let’s go those kneepads off. As much as I enjoy them, I’m going to need you on your knees for awhile, and uncooked rice is a little bit much.”

He shifted over so he was laying on his stomach, and felt the velcro bands coming undone. She lifted one leg out of the plastic cup, and brusquely ran her palm along his knee, knocking off the hard grains. They fell into the kneepad, and when she was done they were dumped in the trash, the kneepad carelessly tossed aside.

Her hunger was growing, and she didn’t feel like waiting anymore. She picked his other leg up herself, ripped the fastener in two, and scoured his knee with her hand. The rice went in the trash can, the kneepad bounced across the floor. She stood up, letting his leg fall to the floor with a clunk. “On your knees now, that’s what they’re for, after all.”

He pushed himself up and shuffled around to face her, then rose up on his knees. The air felt cool, and the carpet was a pleasant sensation after the gouging sensation of the rice. Her fist wound itself into his hair and clenched, and he followed awkwardly as she dragged him along and positioned him facing the bed, several feet away. “Stay.”

She growled the word, while she pulled her dress up over her head and off, then folded it and set it aside. She pulled a book off the shelf, something thick and bulky, and set it carefully on top of his head. “Don’t let that fall off. If I have to stop and put it back on, I’m going to be pissed.”

He forced his back a little straighter, and tried to feel the weight of the book on his head, anticipate which way it might shift and fall. She hopped back on the bed, and grabbed a pillow. She shoved the pillow under her head so she could look at his eyes, and sighed. The vibrator hummed on and she started gently working it up and down her slit.

He started to lean forward and felt the book begin to shift. He swallowed hard and slowly moved back, keeping it in place on his head. She licked her lips and pushed the vibrator against her clit a little harder. “Ah, you remembered. If you can get over here without the book falling off before I come, I’ll let you finish me off with your tongue. If not, too bad.”

She teased her clit with the vibrator, running it in tight circles over the flesh, pushing against the nerve endings. He swallowed hard, and began inching forward, his knees still aching. She teased herself as he tested how fast he could go, short, careful movements that placed his knees a little closer to her each time. She watched his progress and moaned, teasing him, driving him on, one eye on his face the other on the book perched on his head.

He shuffled forward, moving faster, desperate to get there before she came. He slid one knee forward, then the other, sliding them across the carpet, ignoring the irritation of the already tender and bruised skin, one knee, then the other–thud. The book hit the floor and her eyes narrowed. She stood up while he trembled, then grabbed him by the hair and dragged him backwards to his starting point.

The book slapped down on top of his head and he winced, then flinched as she slapped his face. One cheek, then the other, back and forth until the book tumbled off again. “I told you to keep the book on your head.” She slapped him, hard. “What?” Slap! “Part?” Slap! “Of?” Slap! “That?” Slap! “Did you not?” Slap slap slap! “Understand?” A final slap left his ears ringing, and he pleaded with his eyes. “Sorry ma’am, I was trying.”

She slapped him one more time, then turned and walked back towards the bed. “Get it right.” She picked the vibrator back up, dragged herself onto the bed, and rubbed her palm on her cunt. The heat from his face melted into her body, and she ground her palm down into her labia, stimulating the sensitive flesh. He started shuffling forward again, and she shifted her hips and spread her legs a little further.

The vibrator pushed against her again, and he started his awkward, painful, shuffling march across the floor, his back locked straight, the book pushing down on his head. His eyes locked on the lewd display in front of him, he carefully moved one knee then the other, ignoring everything but the sight of her and the feel of the book on top of his head.

She ratcheted up the pressure and the pleasure, and he ground his teeth and forced himself to move at the careful pace that kept the book on top of his head. One knee moved in front of the other, inching across the carpet as she pushed herself closer to orgasm. She was panting and breathing hard, short gasps that made her chest heave, as he finally got to the bed, and kissed her thigh.

She shoved the vibrator in his mouth, letting him taste her, and threw the book aside with the other. “Oh god, I thought you’d never get here. Get your mouth on my cunt or I swear to God I’ll kill you.” His lips eagerly locked onto her pussy, the short, stiff hairs brushing against his lips as his tongue worked its way over her clit, pushing against it, rolling back and forth across it, tracing circles around it over and over.”

Her back arched and the blood pounded in her head as she wrapped her thighs around his head, smashing his face tight against her, holding him there. She could feel his tongue and his breath against her cunt, and her hips rolled, jerking his face along until she erupted, coming on his tongue, her thighs trembling and her legs jerking.

“Ugggggggggggggg.” An animal sound came from somewhere deep inside her, and slowly, reluctantly, opened her legs and slid away from his tongue, suddenly sensitive but wanting to hold into the sensation as long as possible. “Come here.” She motioned him up onto the bed, and he slid onto it until he was lying beside her. She pulled him hard against her and kissed him. “Good boy.” She stroked his hair, and finally opened her eyes. “Good boy. I can’t wait to hobble you.”

Preview: Part 5, Ankles are for being hobbled! Aren’t they?

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.